Make a Difference (M-A-D) by transient writer

Humans are created in this world uniquely and perfectly in the eyes of the creator, although, people seldom complain about their personal imperfections. People judge aesthetic beauty using their eyes, and not by their heart. They tried to be good in the eyes of others, yet imperfections appeared when nobody sees them. People idolized persons that seemed perfect in their eyes; likewise, they even copied the way of living of their idols. Idolization is not awful, only if, nobody is being harmed or destructed. Sometimes, the thinking of impossibility hinders us in order to stand on own replica. However, if we only craving for possibility of all our wants, it will happen. Nothing is impossible for those persons who believed on themselves that they can. Obstacles are given in our life, nonetheless, these obstacles are our stepping stones in order to make us difference. Everyone is part of the whole, thus, what is different are the characters of each individual.

MAD - stands for "Make a Difference". These words must manifest on your own. However, it doesn’t mean that you’re going to be a superhero in order to be different with the others. Rather, you’re just leaving your personal footprints as an instrument of change. An idea that you initiated might contribute a constant pattern for others.

Looking forward on your given path, and believing that it was right compared to the majority. A saying from Uta Hagen, “We must overcome the notion that we must be regular... it robs you of the chance to be extraordinary and leads you to the mediocre”. A vision of becoming starts on being a different with others. Dare to be MAD- Make a difference!

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"I am a God-fearing individual, a friendly person, and easy to get along with. A person who has heart to serve others. An adventurer, and a dreamer who believes that everything is possible. I am a goal oriented individual who wants an immediate response in every task that I engage in. However, I am also a person who is easily to disappoint when things that I made was out of my plan." -- transient writer

My Writing Escapade by Mademoizelle

I’m running out of words… to scrawl in this empty sheet of paper. I’m running out of neurons… on my head just to think, imagine and think again to write like a genuine writer. I’m running out of time… since there seems no room for concentration. Still, silence is around. A few seconds, minutes and hours passed by and I had written words, phrases, titles, sentences without certain direction. Then suddenly on my head, it’s like I am digging a very deep soil, perhaps on a quicksand I felt I was about to sink on it. Good Lord! What an oblivion mind I have tonight! Do I really have the guts for this kind of endeavor?

Asking myself what writing is all about I guess is as fussy and imperious as what life is all about. Figurative, idiomatic, poetic, melodic, scientific and biblical- we live for many reasons, missions, choices and pathways. It’s like being a writer of your own story. And for me, writing is like a Death March! I have to walk a thousand miles, a lonely road, cross a river, climb hills and mountains just to enter the kingdom where pen and mind are mightier than the sword.

Perhaps, I have to flashback now when I first fell in love and befriended a pen. Playful and innocent is the kind of child I used to be. The time has come to change and I was about to enter a new playground where pen and paper is my only toys. It was during my fifth and sixth grade in school. On my English and Filipino subject, a formal theme was a prerequisite every grading period. Still fresh on my memory, the topic and title of it (My Autobiography, My Most Unforgettable Experience and My Dreams for the Future). I won’t deny that I owe my elder sister greatly for sharing her skills of writing with me. For that, I thank my gratitude to my one and only sister, my first writing guru. I also thank my two advisers in grade school that appreciated my works and encourage me for writing though I only did this because of grades and requirements. It never occurred to me as a habit especially during vacation. Other than that, on my first experience to write a journal was during high schools as English requirement. It was good and my teacher also appreciated my works. AS of now, I wonder if I really have the gift to write effectively-as in a future career to be a writer. Many times, I felt that I’m frustrated and trying hard writer especially if I know someone my age or classmates who have this skill.

For this reason, if I could write a thousand words with different colors such as red for love, orange for fun, yellow for hopes, green for nature, blue for peace, indigo for courage and strength, and violet for passion and grace, truly my life will be as majestic and chaste as the rainbow of God’s embrace.


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Mademoizelle is simply unpredictable, introvert, music and nature lover. She is a Christ’s child, born with imperfection and discontentment. Indeed, she is a sinner who seeks for God’s forgiveness and wisdom, who aspire for more spiritual happiness and pray for my salvation with my loved ones.

Study Tip 1: Magnanimous Loser

What a title… What do you think do I really know about self-improvement?

Never mind though.

Before I proceed, I want to make a disclaimer first — that when it comes to giving self-improvement advice, I’m neither a professional nor an expert. In short, follow this tip at your own risk. There is something I am certain though, that I’m a trying hard who is persistently adding usefulness to my blog entries because of their continuous sheer lack of it.

But wait! Have I not named my blog Kwaderno, the Filipino term for notebook? Well, that’s because I want to take down as much lessons and notes as I can while taking this journey I’m temporarily calling K-O TRAVEL.

So, this is more of a for-me-tip than for-you-tip.

Improve Your Vocabulary

Through the course of my initial voyage, I met two excellent writers. The first one was my Editor-In-Chief in a publication and the other one was a former colleague in a not so humane company. They had something in common, an attitude that I think was directly proportional to their verbal skills and rhetoric. They were calling their USP, laptop, and mugs with names — as if these were pets with birth certificates. Weird, don’t you think so? Perhaps yes, unusually bizarre. Admirable, nonetheless.

I told myself, “That is just so cool. Why should I not do the same for my things, too?”

I began with my pen. “From now on, I’m calling you magnanimous loser,” I once said while raising my new Pilot pen, recently bought from a supermarket near my boarding house.

Magnanimous was a term I encountered while reading an article. I couldn’t easily remember and use it inspite of my great efforts to repeatedly commit it to my long-term memory. Hence, to awaken my hippocampus and temporal lobes, I had attached magnanimous to my ball pen. In the absence, however, of another noun for magnanimous to correctly describe, I remained uncomfortable, if not totally incapable of, using it in my writings. I therefore added to it the word loser, the term magnanimous objectively illustrated in the same article it was written. That was how magnanimous loser pen came to existence.

I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness: little smile, forceful shout — which were already awesomely intense for a sick writer like me.

“Whoo! Whee! I could now be great, be an emperor like Julius Caesar, be a founding father like Abraham Lincoln, or be a national hero like Jose Rizal. I named a pen of my own, a weapon sharper and mightier than a double-edged sword.”

Not long after, magnanimous loser ran out of ink. That was even before I could conquer the whole of Europe, establish a super power country in the West, or receive a heroic recognition from my peers. I didn’t get so sad though, but still, I delivered a eulogy.

During the burial, I was the only one present. No one could hear my melodramatic speech, because everything was just in my head: “Ei, magnanimous, you might have lasted only for a month, but you left me important lessons in life. First, that losers can still be noble. Second, that I could be one word richer than before by attaching new vocabulary to my personal belongings. I shall never forget these values. Goodbye.”

Then, I threw it into the trash can.

The following day, I bought a pair of shoes. “Hello guys! You, left footwear, I’m calling you ‘ennui’, and you, right footwear, I’m calling you ‘boredom’. You’re twins – synonymous — always remember that. Don’t fight, be together at all times. Bring me to nice places where words are happiness and vocabularies are temporary refuge from sadness.”

Would you like to take a guess of where they’ve brought me so far?#