My childhood play would usually be with a pen and paper drawing or writing non sense things; rather than playing toys or with other children. I’d plan my dream house, a comic strip, biography, or anything that involves pen and paper. It was my addiction, paper fascination. My Mama Becca would usually bring me to National Bookstore and buy me new notebooks and pens rather than a toy. At that early, I never realized what I really wanted in life. I thought it was just a hobby of mine, and it was instilled that the only way to be wealthy is if you become a doctor, lawyer or go abroad. Writing is so complex for me. Years after, being exposed to many things; only lately that I realized what I really wanted, to be a writer. The complexities of it is what makes it beautiful, you could express and compose in many different ways playing around your little ideas that could somehow, some way benefit others.