Jiufen, Taiwan ~ I truly enjoyed the ambiance of this little mountain town. Now I completely understand why people always say that Jiufen gives off Studio Ghibli vibes—because it genuinely does! Wandering through its narrow, winding alleys felt like stepping into a whimsical, animated world. The red lanterns swaying in the breeze, the old tea houses perched on the hillside, and the mist rolling in from the mountains all create a dreamy, almost otherworldly atmosphere. Continue reading
One of the highlights of our visit to Taiwan was spending time at the Taipei Public Library in Beitou District. It was another surreal moment for me, as I used to only see it in photos—and now I can say that I’ve seen it in person and can attest to its beautiful architecture. Nestled in the heart of Beitou Park, this stunning eco-friendly library is often praised as one of the greenest buildings in Taiwan—and stepping inside, it’s easy to see why it’s so beloved by locals and travelers alike.
We arrived in Taipei just an hour before lunchtime, so we decided to dedicate the rest of the day to roaming around Ximending. We visited Don Don Donki, Jinart, Pop Mart, and other stores. We also had dinner at one of the local noodle and dumpling places called Xiao Xiao Hong Dumplings & Soup Dumplings (小小虹水餃小湯包). 🥟
Meteor Garden (Taiwanese) had me in an intense chokehold when it aired in the Philippines back in 2003—I was absolutely obsessed. I remember begging my family to buy me all sorts of merch, from posters and keychains to photo cards and T-shirts—every member of my family can attest to this. It was such a huge part of my childhood, shaping my early teenage daydreams and giving me my first taste of Asianovela fever before I even knew what that was! So, finally getting to see National Chung Cheng University (Ying De in the series) in person—one of the most iconic filming locations—felt so surreal that I almost wanted to cry. Continue reading
You might have noticed a shift in my writing style lately—and it’s very much intentional. I’ve been trying to write with more depth and genuine passion, letting my words carry more of what I truly feel and see. Looking back at some of my older posts, especially about our travels, I realized how much they lacked the heart and honesty I wanted them to have. Many of them felt rushed, a bit messy, and honestly, I rarely took the time to proofread. I used to just hit “publish” without a second thought, eager to share but not really caring how my words came across.
I’ve come to understand that writing, like any other craft, needs time, patience, and care. I don’t want my creative writing skills to become rusty or forgotten, especially when writing has always been such an important part of who I am. So I’m making it a point to slow down—to practice more, to revisit what I’ve learned from my past courses and certifications, and to simply enjoy the process again.
These days, I find myself paying more attention to the small details: the way a place made me feel, the fleeting moments that deserve to be remembered, the words that can bring a memory back to life. It’s not about writing something perfect—it’s about capturing something real, something that feels true to me.
In many ways, this change feels like coming home to myself. It’s a promise to keep nurturing this side of me, to write not just for the sake of sharing but also for the joy of creating. I hope you feel that shift when you read my posts now—more thoughtful, a bit more raw, and hopefully a lot more me.
Grief doesn’t always arrive with grand gestures.
Sometimes, it slips in gently—through a memory, a quiet moment, or the realization that someone you’ve known all your life is no longer here.
Last week, we lost one of my lolo’s brothers. He wasn’t a constant presence in my everyday life, but he still held a meaningful place in my heart. I looked up to him in a quiet way. His presence was a steady thread in the fabric of my childhood.
I remember seeing him often when I was younger—at family gatherings, during casual visits—the kinds of moments you don’t always realize are shaping you. In the past few years, especially during his illness, I made it a point to visit when I could. Not out of obligation, but because I wanted to. I wanted to show up, even in small ways, while I still could.
His passing hit harder than I expected—not because we were especially close, but because he was part of a generation I grew up around. A generation that helped raise us, even if just by being present. And with his passing, I felt that familiar ache again—one I first felt in 2021 when we lost his brother, another one of my lolo’s siblings. That loss was heavy too, and I remember thinking back then: They’re really growing old. Time is really moving.
It’s a strange thing, watching the older generation slowly fade. It’s not just their absence that hurts—it’s what they represented. Their stories. Their warmth. Their humor. Their strength. Pieces of our family history that slowly become memory.
During the funeral, I felt my lolo’s heartache. He was trying to be strong for everyone, holding himself together the best he could—but I know he is hurting. Seeing that grief in someone I love deeply made the loss feel even heavier.
I know I’m not at the center of this grief, and I hold deep respect and love for the immediate family who are feeling this loss more acutely. But still, I grieve too—in my own quiet way. I carry memories of them both—of their laughter, their kindness, and how they were simply there, anchoring parts of my life I didn’t realize I’d miss so much.
Grief doesn’t require permission or proximity. It comes because we’ve loved, even gently, even from the sidelines. And that love deserves space.
I like being known as “the girl who reads”.
I like that when people see a book, they think of me. That when someone stumbles across a cozy bookstore or a bookish meme, they send it my way. That when they need a recommendation, they ask me.
I love when people notice my heavily tabbed books and ask, “What do all the colors mean?” I love when someone gives me a book because they know it’s the best gift I could ever receive. I love when a friend picks up something I raved about and messages me in all caps because they finally understand why I was so obsessed.
Being known as the girl who reads means being known for curiosity, for wandering into different worlds, for getting a little too attached to fictional characters. It means being the person who always has a book on hand, who will absolutely ignore reality for a good story, who disappears into books and comes back just a little changed every time.
Some people are known for their sense of humor, their aesthetic, their passions. I’m known for my love of stories. And if that makes me seem boring to some people, that’s fine. My whole personality might revolve around books and reading, but honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Last week, I launched this feature so I can yap about all things RoTE. I’m already into the second book of the Farseer Trilogy, so I figured I’d make a recap for the first book too. This week, I’m sharing my first entry to make up for Assassin’s Apprentice. It’s been a couple of months since I read Assassin’s Apprentice, and while I don’t remember every single detail of every chapter, I remember how it made me feel—and I think that’s enough to keep going.
What stuck with me the most:
No detailed recap here—just a memory log. But it’s wild how even vague memories of Hobb’s writing still hit hard. I remember the atmosphere more than anything: lonely, harsh, but weirdly cozy? Like I was living in the halls of Buckkeep with Fitz, just trying to keep my head down and not die.
I was worried I wouldn’t be able to pick things up again, but Royal Assassin kind of welcomed me back like I never left. The tone, the pain, the quiet magic—it’s all still there. And I’m already emotionally invested. Again.
Lenn of Spades ♠ 