Shelf by Andrew Paghubasan

ARIANE MIJOS PAGHUBASAN

andrewpaghubasan8 — 2025-03-27 05:33:32 UTC

Good day everyone, I am Ariane Mijos Paghubasan. I'm a creature of quiet contemplation, often lost in the pages of a fantasy novel. Around strangers, I was a whisper of a presence, my shyness a tangible shield. But if I'm with my friends, I blossom. My laughter echoed, a vibrant counterpoint to my usual quiet demeanor. I am 17 years old. Currently, I am a senior high school student at Lourdes National High taking up the Humanities and Social Science (HUMSS) strand. I admire how the sunsets painted the sky with fiery oranges and deep purples, a breathtaking spectacle that filled me with a quiet joy. And when the sun finally dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a canvas of deepening blues, the moon would rise, casting its ethereal light upon the world, a gentle, watchful presence that mirrored the peace I found within myself. These celestial events were more than just pretty sights; they were a rhythm to my life, a reminder of the beauty and mystery that existed beyond everyday.

Journal

andrewpaghubasan8 — 2025-03-27 05:34:08 UTC

Our classroom isn't just a room; it is an ocean—a restless, churning sea of whispers, laughter, and the occasional crashing wave of a shouted answer. Sunlight streams through the window like a shaft of light piercing the deep, illuminating the swirling currents of activity. On this day the sea is calm. A gentle hush of conversation flows over the desks as my classmates settle in, their books like smooth white pebbles on the ocean floor. Our teacher, a sea captain with kind eyes, stands at the helm, their voice a steady, calming current guiding us through the day's lesson. But the calm is descriptive beneath the surface; a powerful undercurrent of anticipation simmers. A question from us, a sudden burst of laughter because of that question; these are the small waves that began to build, gathering momentum. Our teachers, ever vigilant, expertly navigate the choppy waters. They steer the conversation, guiding the rising tide of our opinions and ideas. Sometimes the waves become overwhelming, a storm of conflicting thoughts crashing into each other. But they remain steadfast, their voice a beacon in the tempest. As the lesson progresses, the calm again. The initial storm subsides, leaving behind a gentle swell of understanding. We are like seabirds resting on the tranquil surface, quietly absorbing the knowledge they gave our minds like sponges soaking up the information.

Poem

andrewpaghubasan8 — 2025-03-27 05:34:49 UTC

Familiar faces, smiles so wide,

A friendly hum, a joyful tide.

The air alive, with stories shared,

A classroom bond, beyond compare.

My heart takes flight on wings of glee,

This happy place belongs to me.

With laughter's song, my spirit sings,

In this bright space, joy it brings.