20
03
OWTLIVE!
a soul that's bubbly, warm, and creative
PERSONAL
INFORMATION!
First Name: Liora Ysma (光雅)
Surname: FulongcoDate of Birth: February 26, 2003
Birthplace: San Juan, Batangas, Philippines
Current Residence: Bonifacio Global City (BGC), Taguig, Philippines
Nationality: Filipino-Chinese
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Pronouns: She / HerSibling: Logan Ciriaco Fulongco
Cousin: Wojiro Floyd (Mother Side)
Education: Multimedia Arts Student
School: De La Salle–College of Saint Benilde (CSB)Face Claim: Park Ji-won (@onlyzione)
About (Mundane): Of Legal Age
DIARY ENTRY 026,
They say I first came home wrapped in sunshine and lilies.I was born on February 26, 2003, but my story really started long before that, when Mama moved to the Philippines from Dalian, China, carrying me in her belly. Kuya Aco says we weren't just moving houses. We were starting something new—soft and beautiful, like petals blooming in our little family flower shop.We settled in San Juan, Batangas, where Papa opened The First Bloom (花初), a shop that always smelled like mornings and fresh starts. I never really got to meet Mama. Kuya Aco says she smiled the whole time she carried me, and Papa says she held me once—just once. I like to think that was enough for her to pass all her love into me.Cousin Woji lives right next door to us in San Juan. He's Mama's side of the family. Kuya says he has an old soul—quiet, thoughtful, and gentle, like someone who notices the little things most people miss. I like that about him. He always brings stories instead of toys when he comes over, and sometimes we just sit in the garden watching petals fall, talking about nothing important. Somehow, it makes me feel closer to Mama.Even without her, I never felt alone. Papa and Kuya loved me like two suns trying to make up for a missing moon. They always said I was Mama's blessing—her parting gift. That's why he keeps her favorite sunflowers on the kitchen windowsill. Kuya says she loved yellow because it reminded her of hope.Mine is green, though. I think yellow is her light, and green is me. Green feels like staying, like growing, like something that carries on even after the sun sets. Sometimes I imagine Mama's yellow spilling into my green—the hope she had passed on to me, giving me roots and strength.Growing up in that flower-filled town was warm and golden. I was loud and bubbly, always twirling around the garden, petals in my hair, talking to customers like I owned the shop. I drew on the walls with chalk and called it art. Papa never minded.And of course, Kuya Woji was always nearby. He'd peek over the fence to see what I was up to or sneak in a story about his adventures. Even now, when I'm older, just knowing he's next door makes San Juan feel like home.Now I'm studying Multimedia Arts at Benilde, living in a tiny but cozy apartment in Taguig. It's far from home, but I carry San Juan with me everywhere. I call Papa every night, Kuya Aco sends random selfies of the shop cats and Suni, and sometimes Kuya Woji drops by with a new story.And sometimes, when the sun hits just right or I walk past a flower stall, I feel her. Like a soft breeze. Like she never really left. Her yellow lives inside my green.