Love as a beautiful distraction.

A friend once told me that love is a beautiful distraction. Yes. Yes it is.

In the moment that love is being true, it is definite, confident and certain.

My mother was an odd woman through the two pregnancies that she had (bearing my brother then me, only a year apart). Our relatives told us the odd set up my parents had everytime she conceived.

It was odd because, whenever she’s pregnant, she gives my father money, monthly that is, so he could spend it on some other woman, just to have sex, because she knows the need of a husband, and because she’d rather not have sex while she’s conceiving. My father, according to them, never spent the money on anyone but for her too, buying her things, food, dresses. HE NEVER EVEN THOUGHT OF SPENDING A NIGHT WITH ANY WOMAN BUT MY MOTHER.

I have not had a chance to ask her why. And what she would have thought if he did. But then I think I know the answer. She knew he wouldn’t spend it on another woman, just for the sex, because he wouldn’t want to hurt her in any way. My father loved my mother very much. I knew and I saw, how he tended to her when she was alive until she passed away, how he used to miss her every night thereafter. Even though he had a girlfriend for a year before he passed away too, the love he had for my mother was always there, it was never fading.

My mother trusted my father, because my father was really faithful and that’s the beauty of a love that is true. She was certain of his loyalty, she was confident of his man. And my father, in return was definite of his actions, he was never vague of his ways.

Love in its rawness is vague because it is selfish it is stupidly selfless.

It is selfish, it is a chosen risk, we choose to love for our happiness, we take the pain, the sacrifices, the adjustments that we think we deserve. We love when it is convenient. We love when we need to.

But, as selfish as it is, love is also selfless because it does not keep score of sorry’s, or i love you’s, or of words and actions. It is selfless when you choose to love despite nothingness, it is selfless when you hold on a string clinging on nothing but air hoping the other end will be held by them in time. Sometimes, they never take the other end. Unrequited though, but we continue loving. We love even though unconvenient, we love even if it is not needed.

Love is never complacent, it is all about acceptance.

It should mend as it forgives. It will heal hoping not to torn the same wound over and over again.

But healing isn’t just about not stabbing the wound by the one who inflicted it. In healing, the wounded should take part. The wounded should not pick the scab although it is itchy or dry, or tempting. The wounded would have to forgive the one who inflicted it, forgive or accept what has passed and also forgive themselves. 

A wound never heals when you pick the scab over and over.

Accept flaws and past follies. You too are the same, maybe not of the sins but you…

You are not perfect. If they were there to accept you despite everything then thank them and love them the same. If somehow you can’t accept them, then maybe you are at fault. You think you are more virtuous and somehow you don’t need to accept their shortcoming.

You get so blinded and deaf by the hate you fail to see and hear what the other is saying. You no longer believe them because you can’t. You can’t forgive.

Forgiving does not mean forgetting altogether. Forgiving is renewing faith on other people. If you can’t forgive, then I don’t think you can love either.

Because love is accepting what’s there and not there, what is now and what is then.

The past need not even be reopened as long as it does not interfere with the present. We all have a past, memories, people, identities we would want to bury. And beware. If you can’t accept what you would find under all the dirt, then stop digging the past. If people would want you to know about their past, they would. And when they do tell you about it, it is your discretion and your obligation to see past those ‘past’ and see who is in front you.

Some people get stuck looking at the person of the past, they forget to see who’s in front of them. They get too sucked by the person they dug from the past they forget who they loved at the moment.

Love is powerful. But as it is powerful, love alone cannot sustain a relationship.

 relationship with love alone, is like a mere thought.

It is not concrete without taking action. It is a give and take processKnowing your worth can help you give love easily. Never basing your self worth through others’ words thoughts and eyes. Your worth is beyond the person that they see. And you of all people should know that.

Love yourself so you know how you want to be loved, so you know how people want to be loved. And if they don’t have any idea how to love you, sometimes you have to show them how. People who love each other, mirrors one another. Love yourself as you would love another person. If they truly love you,they will love you as much even sometimes more than how you love them. They will never INTENTIONALLY make you feel less.

Sometimes, just because they did something that has offended or had upset us doesn’t mean that they wanted to make us feel mad or furious. Sometimes we have to hear and understand where they are coming from, the cause of the misunderstanding, the situation from their point of view. How you see a situation isn’t all there is to it. Communicate, most importantly, listen. Listen to them, the real reason, not to your hurting.

If a relationship doesn’t feel right then it’s not. You would know when it feels right. Maybe we have failed other relationships or maybe we never had any at first because we are being saved for the right person. If it is really for you it will all work out in the end.


I myself am not sure yet if he is the right one but for now I hope that he really is.

Love is a beautiful distraction but all the same it is a direction. A choice.

To love is hard, but it is a beautiful choice.

And as all things in this world are, love is also temporary, but you are the kind the kind of temporary that I hope will last  my lifetime.

Disclaimer: Wala kaming away okay. HAHA. These are the things i’ve learned from my relationship, from my friends, and from my folks. Okay, kalma.


February 8, 2016

8:00 AM

Maybe the reason why I can’t cry the past few days is that I myself do not want to cry and feel anything.

I can’t even order the usual fastfood picks we love to have together. I can’t even stand to look at the usual grocery choices we usually have. I can’t even stand to buy or touch the things that remind me of him. Somehow a part of me still denies myself of feeling the grief. I don’t even want to go home because I know by now, the loneliness of the house will creep on me and have me crying just by the mere silence that now surely envelopes it.

But I know that I can’t run from it forever. I have to face it sooner or later. No matter how much I try to repress it. As I am writing this, I have been going over his facebook profile and somehow it wells my eyes out, and the stubborn me is trying to get away from it all and that I stopped. Maybe this is not the place for breaking down yet. Or who knows if I could actually suppress it much longer. Maybe any second or hours from now I will cry my heart out. Tears are on the brink of my eyes.

Here I am trying to run away from the heavy emotions again.

This is one of the desperate times that I want to ask for help but I don’t how you could help me out.

I felt so desperate I messaged my dad.

Love them hard.

I know how it feels to lose a parent. Lost my mother four years ago. Every year, the traumatic memory of her last moments at the hospital still haunts me. I still cry whenever I remember the confusion and panic of that moment. It was like the slowest and longest time I had feeling fear and uncertainty.

And just recently, I have lost my father. I have long wondered what I’d be without my old man, and here I am still wondering.

If there was one thing I learned when I lost my mom, it was that, you have to tell and show the people around you how much you love and care for them as if they are gonna be lost the next day, or even the next moment. Maybe, some of you still dont understand the gravity of losing someone and regretting that you werent able to show them how special they are for you. I wanted to do a lot of things with my mom, I regretted that I was not able to tell her the words I deprived her hearing, the simple ‘I love yous’ and ‘I miss yous’. I wanted her to be a little more involved with my life, I long wanted a  mother-daughter bonding day or the like, but I never had that. I was too busy being away from home, I was too involved at college.

It was only when she started getting really sick and having her once to twice dialysis a week that I gave a lot more attention to her. I go back and forth Los Banos to San Pablo everyday whenever she gets hospitalized, I do my assignments and  reviewing there every night at the hospital’s fire exit, I endure cold, early travels in the morning just to be able to see her. I wanted to make the most of the time she had left. I knew she was going to leave us sooner or later, but I hoped for a miracle. Though it never came.

But it was different with my father. I have always been closest to my father ever since.

I know even to this moment that I have showered him with love. I have given him every needed attention. All the more when mom died, he was the center of my universe.

He’s like the only guy who remembers how I eat my chicken. Who knows what dress would suit and I’d prefer. The only one who understands my mood swings when it’s my time of the month. The only guy who offers me a retail brochure and tells me to order anything I want. Always to the rescue with a bottle of Coke when I’m home and first day menstruation sets in.

My constant flower giver every Valentines’ birthday. My movie date whenever there were new action or war movies. One who patiently waits on me as I browse through books, deciding what I want to buy. Cooks pata tim for me because he knows I love his recipe, I even had to ask him how he does it.
I wonder if I’ll ever have a guy like that again in my life.

He loves me to the moon and back as I love him too. I’m not sure but maybe knowing I have loved him hard and I was able to show him that, is the reason why I still am not crying hard when it feels like I should be, or maybe things are still not sinking in on me. I am not denying of his death, but seriously I feel numb of the loss that I should be grieving upon.

My father has always been a generous giver of love, he never wastes a chance to show his love, care and concern to the people who matters to him, to the people around him. Whenever he can, he will.

And alone with the love that he has shared to us I know it is enought to keep him and his memories alive in our hearts and those lives that he touched.

You are really fortunate if you still have your parents, or even just one beside you, or maybe them, being those who you come back home for. Take care of them, love them hard. I did love my parents too, I loved them hard but see, sometimes, love isn’t just enough.

Race against time, you never know when their time comes. Regret hits hard so while you can, love hard.


Maybe you don’t understand yet the gravity of losing someone you really love.

Someone you can’t bear to lose.

Maybe you haven’t grieved that hard yet. I understand.

I have known it. Twice. I lost my mother four years ago, and recently had lost my father.

Of course one can resort to doing other things than crying. But as you do, the mourning never leaves the back of your mind. It creeps to you in every second you spend not  thinking of it. You remember them in everything you see and hear, and everywhere you set foot on. You carry a burden all day, all set deep into your heart.

But right now, as hard as it is to bear, I cannot cry. I am not crying when I should be. I don’t know why. I know well of the grave loss that I have had. I know it’s too much to bear, but I cannot cry.

It hurts my head, and I know well of this feeling. This is the same feeling I had a week after my mother died. I remember that my head hurts too much I just wanted to bang my head on the wall, light but repeatedly, because I’m not crying when I should be, and I wanted to feel pain. Funny  that I only remember just now the full detail of it.

I only used to remember that I was at the hospital and staring blankly into space. I knew what was happening around me but no, I just didn’t want to move, or speak.

I did not speak for almost a month after that. The only way I was helped was by how people would greet my puppy, Patch, then I would say thanks. I didn’t want to talk to people, or anyone.

But I know better now. I cannot let myself go into that again. But I badly want to cry. I just want to cry real hard so it would be over. I know I have friends and people who would be there to help me get through this grieving. Let me grieve. I have been smiling and all and always keeping it positive until now, but when time comes that I cry real hard, just let me cry to pour it all.

I just don’t feel strong by not crying like I am being so right now.

Maybe Life had again hit me so hard, so much harder now that I have gone so numb this time.


I enjoyed the Sinulog weekend with your friends and your family. But just so you know, I really enjoy every moment with you, any moment with you.

I get to know you more and more everytime I see you. I get to see how much of a good man you are. You may not be perfect as you claim you are, but that doesn’t make you any less of a great person.

Thank you. I love you.


My Facebook profile is a teeming pot of boredom. But I’m proud and happy to say that despite the lack of activity around posts and tags I can say that my actual social life isn’t congruent with my online presence. I am actually a lot happier offline. 
The  year 2015 wasn’t perfect. We started the year with FPJ being hospitalized at New Year’s Eve, I even had some misadventures and misfortunes at times. There were lonely times and bouts of hitting hard on depression, but unlike before, I now have learned to look beyond the negativity and hope that the better days are just around the corner. I promised myself that I will give and grab chances this year, and I did. A lot has been learned this year but nonetheless, there are a lot more to be thankful for.

So looking back 2015, here are my  FAVORITE MEMORIES  of each month. Most of these pictures are not even on my facebook profile hahaha  

(This will be a post full of pictures haha be patient as it loads ✌🏼️)


Highschool barkada bonding.



Breakout with UP CELLS!! 


UP Fair with UP CELLS brods and a little pink  teddy won from a booth



HALE COMEBACK!! Looking champ for Champ.

There was even a fire beside Route 196 that time but we endured the long walk (we’ve walked longer  when we were at UPLB anyway). Anything for Champ😍 also for my girl crush Aia and bonus was we sampled how Jesh makes wehey after gigs.


Assembly Generals Launch   


One of those fun Malate weekend. Videoke with friends from Mapua.




Solo beach getaway at La Union




Bulacan getaway with Kipses and Jorks



Celebrating at NIU with the June Celebrants


Zambales with UP CELLS




Solo getaway at Baguio.



Ebe doing his magic, no mic or amps just pure puso.




From Bogart’s Bentelog…


to drinking three half pitchers, EACH with UP CELLS and…



UP CELLS’ anniversary salubong the night after. 


Meeting my Freshman bestie, whom I havent seen for 5 years for she was in Japan


Hannah+Gabi at Cubao X and Lightsettling at Route 196


Feeling adult with sushi and maki bonding with UP CELLS


From a mere jogging to shake shake fries craving turned roadtrip to Tagaytay. Watched the meteor shower…



2 day gaming at Fire Sword cafe with L4d2 until dawn.


Exploring Intramuros and low cost footspa with Jorks and Kips at Star City




An 8-day Cebu to…



 Bohol trip with Jorks


TAGAYTAY ART BEAT!! A night filled with great music from bands of our very own indie OPM scene, plus art and the Tagaytay chill.





and an out of the blue visit from him❤️



An unforgettable Ceb week with the birthday boy (❤️) and a weekend with his family.




Ayala triangle lights show with the Kipses


Bicol and Vigan



Indeed, I owned 2015. And I am claiming this year too.


There was once a Pig who did not dream of becoming Ultimate. Every Pig by default, in almost any Farm that is, has the dream of being Ultimate, everyone aims to be the Ultimate, but of course not everyone gets the chance. This story is not about having that chance and not becoming it, because truth is, any Pig clearly has that chance just two hooves away from them. But not everyone becomes it, because that’s how Life is. It’s either you were born to be it, or you strive to be it. 

This story isn’t solely about that Pig who did not dream. It’s about her litters too. And no this is not related to The Three Little Pigs, there is not a wolf in this story, or maybe I could actually incorporate a wolf here but, no.


So this Pig who did not dream is Bat. You see, at two months, she already knows what a bat is and she knows she’s not it, she’s just really called Bat. From that alone you realize that she’s pretty clever for a Pig, and she is really, compared to the other pigs in this Farm, she was I bet the most clever of them all. But of course people don’t get to know how clever she is by the slight whistle she add when she oinks, we just hear the oink and not the whistle. But the other Pigs hear it. 

“Do it again Bat! Do it again!”

“You sure are one weird Piglet Bat! Another one!”

“Whistle at the caretaker Bat, tell him to give us more feed!”

But all the caretaker hears is a ruckus of oink oinks.

Bat knew she was special in a way, and everybody believes she gets to be an Ultimate someday. Some Pigs, those in the lowly farms, though occasionally dreams of being the Ultimate, they accept the fact that they cannot be it that they just settle on dreaming to just be roasted with lots of spices. It was the biggest dream they could have second to being the Ultimate.

But of the whole Pig generation, being in a high end aka first class farm, Bat was the disappointment of them all. Once their Mother asked them what she someday she dreams to be, and the litters answered one after the other,





The exclamation marks are that accurate, every Pig was enthusiastic with the thought of being Ultimate. Except for Bat. It was the first time that the Pig World ever had an,”Not that Ultimate is not a good thing, I just don’t have a dream at all”

Her Mother was shocked and disappointed. How could a Pig not have a dream? If say it’s not being Ultimate, maybe at least be at least be crispy fried to perfection. Her Mother thought Bat would change her mind when she’s a little wiser. But when Mother Pig died, she never knew that she was wrong about Bat. Bat never changed her answer.  

Bat grew fast and then was picked to become Mother Pig (being Mother pig was not part of Pigs’ dreams, being Mother Pig was a task, a privilege). Bat’s siblings thought she would have a different answer now that she had her own litters. But everytime they would ask her they keep it hushed so the Piglets would not hear about Bat’s answer. It did not change.

Then came the time that she was left with just one litter. Piglet was named Braux. Braux grew fine and when he was just about a week before he was taken away from his Mother’s pen he talked to her. 

‘Mother, I dream of being the Ultimate’

‘Why my child, of course you do! And I’m proud of you I know you are built to be Ultimate someday’

‘Are you going to be mad at me Mother, because I have a dream?’

‘Why should I be mad at you?’

‘Because I know you don’t have a dream, you are the only Pig who doesn’t have a dream and it hasn’t changed until now, has it?’

‘It has not changed. My answer will always be that I do not have a dream. And it is the truth, but maybe before you go, since you are the only litter who asked me, i’ll share you a little secret’

Braux moved closer to his Mother Pig and oinked attentively as she leans in to tell him about something she hasn’t shared with anyone.

‘Even Pigs get disappointed, Braux. But only those alive who knows what became of you after, gets to be really disappointed. After the Processing, only those Pigs who knew what became of you, fried, canned, hanged raw in markets, etc. gets to be disappointed. I learned this whenever older Pigs in my time would say,

     ‘Poor Pig, got roasted instead of being delivered into a factory and cured to bacon perfection’,

     ‘Poor Pig, got chopped and fried and served as is’

Whenever a Pig dreams of becoming Ultimate and they are in their last moments, knowing they will never be after the Processing, dies disappointed. It was all they aimed for when they were living then they never came to be it at the end.

So I thought it was best that I do not dream at all. Because in the end, Ultimate or not I get to be something that I was raised for. I will die though maybe not as Ultimate but I still have a purpose. And that’s the point of Life for me, having my purpose served at the end, no disappointments, no regrets.’
Braux still leaned near her hoping there was more she would say. But that was all. So he said,

‘But Mother, with what you said, I still want to become the Ultimate, and I’m not gonna tell my future litters of you not having a dream, I will encourage them to dream and aim to be the Ultimate, and I hope you will not love me differently because of this.’

‘Braux, I’m not telling that you too should not dream like me. Dream, dream big, always have a dream! I encouraged everyone of you to dream, I never wanted to my Piglets to hear me answer them other Pigs, when they ask me about my dream because I don’t want you to do the same. 

And funny to think about it just now, but I think I’ve been lying all this time… I think I do have a dream and I just have realized it by now…
I dream of having every Pig realize their dreams of becoming Ultimate so they serve their purpose well to themselves and to others!’

‘Mother, you know how impossible that is’

‘No, don’t you ever use that phrase again, especially to your future litters, or to anyone who has a dream! Words of discouragement could scar a naive dreamer. Always encourage dreams, support dreams, guide them. If a dream seemed impossible at first, dream another dream, always dream, always dream.’

‘You are ironic Mother you say you do not have a dream, but you say always dream, I am confused’

‘If I can’t dream for myself, I’m dreaming for my litters, I dream them well’

A week after Braux was taken away, Mother Pig was Processed. She did not become Ultimate. But we know to our hearts that she wasn’t disappointed, nor were the other pigs who knew of her as ‘dreamless’. 

But Braux was a bit disappointed, he was thinking that somehow at the end, his Mother would be as contradicting like her not-dreaming and her encouragement to dream. But he remembered his Mother’s words well.
Braux rendered his Piglets well like he had told his Mother, encouraged them to dream big, to always dream. And time came that he had to face the Processing. 
In the end, he became the Ultimate. And little did he know that the other Piglets who came from Mother Bat ended the same too. He did not know that Mother Bat’s line was the line that people wanted to have as Ultimate. And every Piglet’s line (those from Mother Bat) were sought for being an Ultimate line.

He did not know that his Mother’s dream was possible. 

Braux did not know that since Bat was little she took care if her self enough, ate the right diet, had enough exercise and sought for her overall well being everyday, knowing that she is someday to be bound as Mother or maybe Processed young, and she wanted to be fit and ready for anything that comes her way.

His Mother’s dream has come true, and no one knew about it.


Being Ultimate is simple. You get picked and then you get to be processed as bacon. 

And yes, not every Pig gets a chance to be bacon. 

Now whenever you see a Pig again in your plate and it was not in any form of being bacon, you get to say to yourself, “poor Pig, you have not reached Ultimate” then you get sad. 

I mean isn’t it sad to be dead and not be someone you aspired to be? Even Pigs get disappointed, they say.

“Poor Pig, got roasted instead of being delivered into a factory and cured to bacon perfection.”

“Poor Pig, got chopped and fried and served as is.”

“Poor Pig, became pata tim.”

“Poor Pig, poor Pig.”

The moral of this story is not “Don’t dream.” I mean we are not like them who gets to STILL be something way past their deaths, they at least get to be eaten and savored and appreciated for a while after their death. We are not Pigs, so dream. Although we do get savored and appreciated more after death but you see there is a big difference. 

Dream, no matter how impossible. Then work towards it so it becomes, possible. Then laugh to yourself and ask why you ever doubted.

 Always dream.

Finding my way home.

Truth is, I cannot help but be really sad and feel lonely on the confines of what used to be home for me. It’s the reason why they keep me away, and I prefer to keep away from our house in Laguna. 

Home for me nowadays isn’t the house where I grew up on. And I am constantly searching for what home really is for me, or where home is for me. Our house at Laguna teems of haunted memories, not of violence or blood or gore of course, it abounds of memories. Lovingly painful memories. And maybe this is not the right time for me to always be reminded of who I lost, of who used to be me with me in that house. Though we’ve had it repainted a lot of times, furnitures were rearranged, new appliances were installed, pets came etc., it still is full of things that reminds me of the pain of losing people who were a big part of me. And if I’d always wake up with those around me, I just cannot and will not move on.

I see how difficult this is for me, and I realize that it must be a lot harder for my dad and my brother to actually be in there almost everyday thereafter, when everything happened. We have talked about it, and yes, someday in the near future that is, we will give up that house and move somewhere. Our house is too big for us, and yes, we want to actually be detached to that place too. We have to move on. And truth is it is only now that we are actually opening new chapters in our lives. Four years, it took us four years to actually take a step. And I believe that if I have not stayed away from that place, I won’t realize what I can do, what I want to do, what I want in life. I have lost a big part of myself when Mom passed away and I crumbled years thereafter, I was more than lost. But at least now I learned to have a positive mindset to achieving my goals and a clear disposition of what I want for my future.

So where do I go home nowadays? Being inside the arms of people that matter, seeing them happy and making precious moments together is what home is for me now. And even being on my travels, I have found home on just being alone, like a turtle, feeling safe at the confines of my own shell, carrying home on my back.

Though it sounds nice, it’s not. I realized that as I have deigned home to be people, or even as just myself, there will always be a time that you will want a physical place to come back to. 

Why? Because people come and go in our lives, therefore a sense of home in them can be somehow temporary and of course, I can’t always feel at home with just myself. But a home as a certain place is different. Or maybe, home is actually a place where you feel happy and secured. I have called Los Banos as my second home. And it still is. I have lost my first home when Mom died and I want to find it back, though maybe not at that same spot, but with the same feeling of growth, affection and learning. I know that even with my father’s new love interest, we three (me, Dad and my brother) can never reestablish the sense of home we had back then if we then moved to a new place. But of course, as I have said earlier, I have found a sense of home just being inside their arms, and it suffices for now.

You are fortunate if you still have that “place” or “building” that you call home because not everyone has that kind of place to come back to everyday or even maybe just every weekend.

But maybe someday I’ll find my own home. Still finding my way, but I’ll find it.

Making big leaps in life can be likened to an 8-day trip and you settled on having JUST a carry-on bag allowance.

It’s crazy that I even thought of writing this while here I am in the middle of packing my things. I don’t know why, but the thought just popped up, and this is me typing fast hoping to put into words the thoughts that just tapped me a while ago.

I’m headed for an 8-day vacation at Cebu and Bohol in three days and all I have with me is a carry on bag and my pouch. Of course it’s not impossible to actually just use a carry on for an 8-day stay. 

Thinking about it, I can actually liken this trip to adulthood. I do not claim that I am a pro at doing this “adult-ing” but a handful of experiences and lessons, both first-hand and those you learn from others, can actually help you get through the hard, trying times because you become aware that you are not the only one who has had these feels and thoughts and changes. That at some point, our lives is just as fucked up as others. And I believe knowing that you are not the only one, helps you breathe a little easier for a moment. So here we go.


Rhymes with how I feel just about everytime Life gives her not-so-fun surprises and you just go: Yes, what a fucking life. But let’s not get overly anxious about it, we surely have days like that but we also have days where we love life so much we don’t want to die yet. 

 And just like going through adulthood, opting to just have a carry on bag for a week stay is just as scary. It was a challenge for me, it was like taking a big leap in life generally. Taking the leap is scary but I learned that fearing won’t take you nowhere further than where you are at the moment. Growing up, we face moments where we have to make that big decision for a dream or yourself, for family or people around you, and maybe, even for your personal relationship. I have NEVER traveled anywhere with just a carry on bag. I believe it’s impossible. Because I believe that I have a lot of things that I will need or I want to have with me, the reason why I have thoughts that I can never put up with just a 7 kg bag for a week travel. I’m actually used to just stashing everything  want to bring on my bags and voila! I don’t care about what things I won’t get to use. Even my solo trips on the past months, I was always with a backpack and a big tote bag.

But then here I am I took the challenge, I’m testing my limits. I learned too, that fears can’t kill me, but it could kill the experience.

So yes, I said to myself, I will endure and try.

Packing was the hardest part, I had to choose wisely what to bring and what I won’t. I had to painstakingly plan what I would wear for every day and night. I had to fold my clothes nicely so my bag won’t buldge and of course if in case I short of anything to wear, I will just wash my clothes. I learned to organize my things and pay attention to the necessary things; just like how at growing up, we come to realize the things that matter, people that we’d like to keep.

 We prioritize the things worth our time and attention, truth is I learned to ignore the unnecessary burdens that would haunt me mentally, I learned to not dwell on things that I don’t want in my life. I learned that as we grow old it’s fitting to say that it is necessary that at some point, you cut the ties with people who do not have your best interest at heart. I mean why bother yourself with the hate and spite when you can just let them go and be at peace.
We let go of our intense attachments to worldly things and people, knowing that they can be temporary then we pick the ones that are worth travelling with. There are things that we leave behind knowing you can get them later on, or maybe you just don’t really need it for the leap ahead. For a carry on bag to be less than or exactly 7 kg is spot on with the thought that  we can take the leap with a lesser baggage as to what you are used to having. That leaving things behind isn’t so bad at all. It doesn’t mean that you don’t need it, maybe you are just leaving them behind because you know you actually can have access to them on your destination. For example, soap and hair products and some other toiletries. I chose to leave them at home since I know I can just buy them there. Just like when you come to a point where you have to loosen your ties with some people you used to be so close with. You are not cutting your ties to them completely, you just loose it to move further, to grow broader. You know that maybe you two maybe not be speaking to each other but someday when everything actually had gone to their rightful places you’ll just laugh how tough growing up had been for the two of you.

But it’s not just people. For one to actually take a leap with lesser baggage, we also can opt to leave some of our old ways, maybe some of our old thoughts and views too. We open ourselves to the possibility of discovery and further growth and satisfaction when we let go of other things.

I too had to pick ahead what to wear on the airport for I’d rather pick using the heavier shoes than it be added on my carry-on bag weight. For I learned that if you want to bring something you can wear that is too heavy for carrying, then wear it. Like if you no longer can carry the heavy feeling you have, carry it; cry or share your problem to an eager ear who would listen to your whims. 

And truly, the destination doesn’t really matter, what you learn at the journey is what counts as THE ADVENTURE.


Self Portrait

Finally after a lot of tries, I now have one that I can properly call a self portrait. Not really a hundred percent resemblance but close, in comparison to other attempts I had for years.

I just had a feeling that night that I can now finally break the difficulty of sketching your own face. That night I decided to look through the picture as if it was not me, as if it was another person. And then I did it. I was able to draw the person that people see. It was the person I see in front of the mirror.

Maybe that was it. And for about days now I’ve been tweaking it every now and here’s the final version. It may not look a lot like me but for now, I feel satisfied.

PS. I seriously look at it and can’t help but think that it looks like some cartoony disney princess. And I know that Idon’t look cartoony in real life 😂😂 but what the hell, for now, this can suffice that satisfaction I wanted to feel for years.


The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah


It’s a war survivor’s story of the French Vichy Regime. How war breaks people, family, and relationships, but the books also shows how surviving one can shape a person and their views about life, love, and family. It was heartbreaking, as death and mishaps happened to the people around the main characters.

I never lost interest in the story even though I knew it would be a long read. It felt like being at the same time as Anthony Doerr’s All The Light We Cannot See, but just taking on a different angle on that same regime.

I have no idea about the nightmares of having seen war, and I believe that we must be actually fortunate for we do not need to remember a traumatic violent past that could have left physical and moral wounds and scars.

But then thinking about it, if we actually pause and take a look back on our lives, no matter how little or big it was, we are all survivors of a war. Struggles that most of the time we keep to ourselves, battles that they haven’t heard of, throes that we never told anyone. But then, here we are, breathing, trying to keep going and hoping to stay alive and survive the next war.

Maybe staying friends is a silent vow.

It’s supposed to make me feel sad, but I feel okay. Like I have moved on long before I realized it has happened. This has happened before, im kind of familiar with what’s happening to us. This is exactly what it felt like when Celine, Lea and I suddenly broke that trio and realized how different we three were and we cannot confine to such attachment for we had to find who we really want to be, we were kids then but we knew better. We stayed friends through the years, but it was not the same as before, and we turned out fine.

But never did I expect that it will actually happen to us. It came as a surprise at first when I became aware that we were slowly fading apart, but somehow a part of me wasn’t shocked, I have seen it coming, even years before.

But who knows, maybe if we keep to ourselves these words, this thing we’re going through will just come to pass. I never imagined not staying friends with you, so I will not think about ending being friends with you. 

I strongly believe though that friendship is more than being physically and electronically felt. I believe friendship is being faithful to the invisible bond that connects you two. That friendship is hanging unto the the memories you had hoping someday you reminisce it all together. That friendship defies the wordly measures we have. 

And maybe, just maybe, staying friends is a silent vow.

You stay friends on the years to come, knowing it’s now not as intense as it had been before, but you just smile, say hi, ask how are you’s and say goodbyes with hugs that seem to say more than the words you just said to each other. 

A lot has changed, for you, for me. A lot has happened. A lot has come and passed. You may not have been there for most of the time, and maybe I haven’t thought of you as those events happened yet I can never deny that you will forever occupy a special place in my heart. That if one day you decide to cut me off your life, you’d still have that pang in my chest whenever mentioned, a longing feeling that can never be matched by anyone who would come into my life. You will forever be a part of whoever I’d become, and I thank you for that.

I am faithful enough to believe that even with the distance and silence, we’re staying friends. If you decide then that we no longer are, that’s the only time that we’ll stop being one. 

Seveneves by Neal Stephenson


The moon unexplainably broke into seven large pieces. And as scientists had predicted, Earth would soon befall extinction by an event they called the Hard Rain of meteors which would last for billion of years. They had about two years to prepare, to gather DNA samples of every living creature that they could get samples from, take pictures to preserve design of structures, technologies, culture, habitat settings, etc., of which they would send to space for data storage in hope that the community that they were to build up there will flourish someday saving our species and look into those old collection of the old Earth. They had to pick two children, a boy and a girl, from every nation, hoping to maintain heterozygosity in the future. And everything I wrote is just a snippet of what the book was about hahaha.

The first two parts of the book was so hooking I can’t put it down. It was a tedious read about scientific future possibilities and should I mention there was a lot of physics too. A tough thick read. But later at the third part of the book, I had to drag myself to finish it! 

I loved the first two parts, the last part was a highly detailed imagined future of life in space, but it just wasn’t too engaging for me. 


This is Heaven according to books that I have read recently and from years back:

“vast consciousness,” A Spool of Blue thread, Anne Tyler

“place in the memory of others where our best selves live in”, Orphan Train, Christina Baker Kline,

“A place where everything we’ve ever done is noted and recorded, weighed on big karma scales.”, Going Bovine, Libba Bray

” heaven, n.: Sometimes I think it’s a version of being asleep, and sometimes I think it’s a version of being awake.”, Lovers Dictionary , David Levithan

” That’s what heaven is. You get to make sense of your yesterdays” Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom

My kind of Heaven? A library full of books, a potful of hot fried rice for myself and myself alone, cold pizza + cold coffee, solitary travels, good conversations and even just mere silence. Heaven is a lot of things for me. Heaven is feeling peaceful and joyous, which is, as we all know, not all the time.

Six Earlier Days


Six Days Earlier is like a prequel to Every Day which is one of my loved D. Levithan book.  And having read this work (because it’s a digital only copy, meaning no hardbounds or paperbacks) makes me feel like the real fan girl of D. Levithan. It’s a less than a hundred page read about some days before the encounter with Rhiannon.

Every Day and Six Earlier Days tells the story of A who shifts and becomes another person from day to day and wanting to actually be of one person until he dies. A is not a ghost or soul. A just goes from one person to another and inevitably leaves the body at midnight and randomly goes to another at the morning.

It’s a story of an entity who just wants to be just one person because it believes it’s more convenient to be of a certain person, and off the book and my own view, it’s funny to think that here we are as humans, wanting to be a different person and get away from everything. These two stories makes me realize that altogether, being a different person or not we all go through things. Life is just as unfair to others as it was to you.

And to date, D. Levithan had even published the companion  to Every Day which is Another Day (which not about A, but of Rhiannon’s, BUT A.D. IS NOT A SEQUEL IT’S A STAND ALONE NOVEL). Looking forward to reading A.D.!

Angelica’s Daughters


It’s a really good book written by Filipino authors. It’s a Dugtungan novel (just like what David Levithan and John Green did with will grayson, will grayson) and it was pretty amazing how they have been able to explore and made new characters with their given chapters, and most of all, how they have summed up and tied everything at the end.

I got this book from the NBS warehouse sale! And I never felt more happy knowing that I spent for such a good read.

Is this an irreparable rift?

We never said a word about it. But I know you feel how slowly we are drifting apart. I still keep on ignoring how all of a sudden I seem to have forgotten to miss every moment we spent together, every laugh shared, every tears shed and every sundowns we used to watch. The talks over coffee, over beer, over books, over cheap meals we lazily make. I keep ignoring that we keep ignoring each other and I feel bad about it. I keep ignoring that i’m not really sure if feeling like this should actually matter. I keep ignoring the neutral reaction I feel seeing you happy with other people, and so am I being with others, and how I somehow know that I don’t miss you and, somehow I know that you don’t miss me too. I ignore the hate I feel for myself for feeling this way. 

I hate that it feels like we are slipping away consensually by the words we never said. I keep ignoring how badly I want to say “Hey, how are you?” but just won’t because I know I wouldn’t know what to say next, that if I type the words “I miss you” I’d be betraying how I actually feel and because I only say I miss you to people I actually miss. I keep ignorig the urge to say Hi again because I want to save us from having more awkward conversations.
No. Maybe forgotten is not the right word. I don’t know how or why, but one day I just woke up and realized that all those moments we had seemed to have been pushed back into the farthest part of my mind, somewhere that’s a kilometer away from oblivion. That’s still way too far from that pit, but nonetheless is still a danger zone for memories. I suddenly woke up one morning and realized how time and distance had set us apart physically and emotionally.

Maybe this is part of going through adulthood. We loosen ties with those who we used to be so tight with. It hurts like hell if you’d dwell thinking about it, so yes, you just ignore the thought. Hoping that when the day comes that when you see each other again you’d have Do-you-remember-when’s and both of you would ease in to remembering and everything will be as it had before.

And then we saw each other again for the first time after less than a year. “How are you?” later on got into “I remember when’s” then “I’m happy to see you, I hope we do this again”. That moment that we parted I still wasn’t so sure if you actually want to see me again. I have had friends whom I haven’t seen for long and I felt actually excited about reconnecting, rekindling and wanting about seeing them again, I hate the way that it didn’t feel like that for you.

But yes I tried again. I met with you again. And I hate how less enthusiastic I felt being with you. I felt awkward I felt like I needed to be the same person you used to be with growing up to actually connect with you. But I no longer know that part of myself. I felt pressured. It felt like I needed to keep up with your maturity. I know how bad it feels to not know how to figure out the life ahead our 20’s but we never mentioned how confused we are, how lost we were, we just said, “I’m fine”. And went babbling about random uncconnected things.

I just stared at your face and realized how the years have shaped them. Your eyes never lost their luster yet somehow they felt hoping that we actually get through this phase in our friendship. Because though we never said a thing about it, I know you feel it too. I remember how I told one of your friends how “Someday, I know our friendship will be tested and I hope we get through it”, and here I am fighting for it too.

I may have stopped talking to you, but it doesn’t mean that I don’t like having you around or that I don’t want to talk to you. I just feel like I actually don’t have anything to relate with you right now. Maybe someday when were done with figuring out the people I want to keep, I hope that you are still on the list and I hope I am in yours too. I may not say anything to you for a while, won’t even bother to drop a ” how are you” on your inbox but know that I am hoping that you find the best in life, and hope that you are always well.

But Im not really cutting you out of my life completely. Know that I may have cut physical ties with people who used to matter and be really close with, but I can never cut the invisible strings that ties me to them, to you. The invisible strings we call memories.

Im not really sure if our friendship just fell apart or we’re just taking a hiatus.

The Buried Giant by Kazuo Ishiguro


A post apocayptic story of centering on the old Brit couple Axl and Beatrice and their journey towards the solving of the mystery of the mist, that which seemed to sweep away their memories (with senesence aside).

Towards the end of the book was the most thrilling part. And I loved how it ended (I dont want to post spoilers hahaha). It’s about love, being found, given, tested and was ultimately proved until the end.

A Spool of Blue Thread by Anne Tyler


It was about the three generations of the Whitshanks.

I don’t want to post spoilers. But I cried on this one. It was like reading the emotions I never could have put into words when my Mom died.

Anne Tyler was able to depict real-like situations every family has. Her telling of their stories was not chronological but nonetheless, it worked out fine. It was heartwarming. The realizations that you get as you read through just makes you smile, totally relatable.

My 3 Ways of Judging People.

I JUDGE PEOPLE. Who doesn’t? And I believe judging people is healthy and because this is how I judge them:

1. Clothes, physical things and attributes cannot conceal what one’s words, actions and thoughts reveal about them.

When I look at people, I do not look at the clothes that they wear or the things that they claim. Those things can be easily guiled.

I grew up reading books about Mahatma Gandhi,  St. Therese and Satya Sai Baba. Back then,  I never knew why Mom loved sharing those books to me. I wanted to read lengthy fairy tales or have books full of short stories and illustrations, but she always gave me these long, tedious reads about real people. But now I came to realize why. She wanted me to learn about the good in living simply. That people who live simply can also impart a legacy to the world, that material things are but little privileges and not necessarily an advantage.

My relatives on my father’s side are mostly well off. And there was this one grandmother that I remember the most. She owns a hacienda that I believe was handed down to her from generations before her. A dona. Every Christmas, there’d be a lot of her workers in her home, she’d welcome everyone who came to eat. Her house in the city was not a mansion it wasn’t too grand. It was not even on a private subdivision.

You’d come to mistake her for some elderly simple housewife if you’d meet her. She wore no jewels and dons a simple house dress at home. Even when she goes to church or would attend a simple party she never boasts how endowed she really is. She remained humble despite her opulent social standing.

And I believe that is one good example of how we should judge people. We should judge them not with what they wear or what they claim to have. Not even with someone’s color or their jobs.

I have a cousin who buys and sells scraps. That’s a garbageman’s job, yes, and he’s proud of it. He started this business just a few years ago, and no, he’s not one you should undermine. He has a business degree from Ateneo. Even graduated his highschool from La Salle. They are wealthy yes, and starting his business, he started small. He used to go around places personally to buy scrap carton boxes, bottles, papers, etc., my uncle liked joking about he did not expect to  have his son take a degree from a premier university only to sell scraps after.

Though I do not despise people who gets to show off what they have. They should be proud of course!

I know of people who loves to flaunt aristocracy on the daily, but never did my respect for them wavered. All because they were undeniably mentally, emotionally and morally rich too. They have big dreams for themselves hand-in-hand with their vision for the community. They have a long string of patience and tolerance thus avoiding bigotry. They know how to stand for themselves and for others too. They have big hearts enough to encompass the needing ones.

Some people are just so rich ‘inside’ I’d choose to be just like them any time of the day.

2. I verify secondhand judgments.

We’ve all heard things about some people. And when I get to meet them personally I find out for myself.

I have met people who some have said ill things about. And for some of them, I didn’t find the persons the way people told me they were. Or maybe I trust people easily, but not fully. I give them my wary faith hoping it grows. If it doesn’t, well at least I gave the person a chance to prove the others wrong.

Also, I don’t define a person by the circle of people that they choose to stick with. As a group, they may have had shared a lot of things and ways in common, but I believe more in individuality. We all have a part of ourselves that we keep to ourself when with our group. No matter how regularly the group had been doing things you’d all have differences, different take about things, different views and opinions.

And also, I do not judge people by their past. It would be wrong to judge them by that. I judge people by who they are presently. We all have had our share of unfortunates in the past, and that counts as to who and what you are at the present. Besides, people change. You who must have gone a lot of changes in the past few years must know that already.

I judge them on a firsthand basis, I prefer to not let other people’s words, clique and their pasts define them who they are. Who you are at the present is how I see you.

3. When I say I judge people, I also mean that I judge them not as “good” and “bad”. I judge them as “good” and as “better” people.

It’s like when you are in the grocery, why settle for good when it’s of the same price of the better ones?

People have their own evils and you can’t judge them by a single act or instance, we all have our hardships in life and that maybe is one root of let’s say a rudeness they never got over with.

I also believe that there will always be good in people. We all have our inner goodness that we forget to tap. A wider sense of humanity and compassion that some must have forgotten for a while.

Though it doesn’t mean that I always prefer the “better ones” over the “good ones”. Sometimes I prefer being with the “good ones” so we can guide ourselves to more improvement. You learn things side-by-side, and it’s more fun to learn Life that way!

I do believe that if I applied my own judgment scheme to myself, I’m a “good one”. And chances are, when I meet “better” people, I try to learn how they become like that, I try to get to know them, hoping someday I can be just like them.

The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari by Robin Sharma


Great read! It was like Og Mandino’s The Greatest Salesman in the World but on a totally light and relatable manner. Or maybe I can relate now because I actually read TGSITW when I was just a meek 11 year old.

Not that I favored the previous or the latter. The two books are different, but all the same could change your life in as fast as 30 days. I enjoyed the endless conversation and the way the “virtues” were implied.

Mind conditioning and training. I seriously felt a bit nostalgic as I was reading this one; it has been long since I last read a self-help/inspirational book, seriously, I felt like I could’ve highlighted everything.

It was not as straightforward as Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People but it was just as affective, and I think is also as effective, as it can be.

I loved it.

Go Set A Watchman by Harper Lee


The sequel to To Kill A Mockingbird.

The tone on the book was very different from the first. It was more socio-politically inclined, though there had been parts where Jean Louise had her personal struggles.

Plot was a bit disarrayed, and through the ending it was kind of confusing. Not really disappointed, I just felt like the book was so hyped and did not meet half of the expectation I had.

Or maybe, one cannot just contest the genius of her first book.

To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee


No wonder it was a Pulitzer winning novel. Points of racism and economic depression were mirrored brilliantly in his writings; the topics of which were in his time, needed a great deal of emphasis and exploration.

I have long wanted to read this book since they said it’s a real timeless piece. And yes it is. Had me wishing that I should’ve read it earlier. 

Reading log.

I need to keep myself away from my bank account. Dad had already deposited the amount I asked for my “supposedly” solo trip to Cebu on September. Well, a good friend had a conference scheduled there too by September and asked me to just go with him then. I need to avoid spending unnecessarily, or I might just blow up my scheduled week at Cebu and Bohol.

And so because of that, I thought of a way to help me off the malls and gigs and pizza next month.

I will have a reading log.

I’ll try to read as many books and comics and whatever to keep me off the streets and off the bank. I’ll only post about the book after I read it whole. I’m seriously a fast reader, and no, I don’t skip anything. I had speed reading classes at Pasig when I was younger and given that I read a lot, it just sort of got really “enhanced”.

I wonder how many books I’ll get to read before September?

Counting starts now…

Blankets by Craig Thompson

Read this whole series in one sitting because it was so engaging and light to read.

It’s an autobiographical memoir of the author, tackling about his firsts as he transitioned from childhood to adulthood. From having his brotherly moments with his sibling, first love, ideological confusions regarding his faith and eventually standing up for what he wants. That happiness is an “each to his own”  matter. Though, I think he still had  backlashed to his former religious belief but had done it gracefully so.

Some people might get offended and deem this banned from reading by their “church” but to be fair, it never said anything bad about their theologies; it had a lot of questions asked but it did not tell people to adhere to the author’s set of confusions and enlightenment.

‘Blankets’  will surely make you feel like, “oh, so it’s not just me all along”.

Y: The Last Man by Brian K. Vaughan and Pia Guerra

This was I guess the first graphic novel I read from the first volume to last, (I had a handful of copies of Archie comics when I was at middleschool but I never got to complete them)  and will surely be not my last graphic novel to read.

I used to despise reading  graphic novels aka comics. I used to read comic strips from newspapers yes and through my Archie collection, but I thought comic books were only meant to entertain and were made for the lazy readers.

I was proved so damn wrong when I finished this comic series.

Reading Archie comics when I was younger was different from when I read it again just yesterday. I used to not get the foreign humor, the adult stuff and wisdom it imparts. All I knew and cared back then was that I had something to read and had illustrations to be fascinated about.

And when I finally finished Y, I wanted to actually have a word for “the inexplicable feeling we get when we have finished reading something-which-you-can’t-just-put-down-a-while-ago”.

I did not find Y to be sexist as some reviews said. Yorick, the main character, was only acting as what a presumably last man on earth who was so blindly in love with a girl would do. He was appropriately childish, afraid and truthful in the series. The women though were yep, they were a bit off hooked at first with all the rebellion, unguarded use of weapons, hysteria and psycho shits, but at the end it concluded aptly.

As an XX, I do believe some women would actually act as they did on the comics, there would be panic, depression, disagreements, fits of anger, killing, hoarding, etc. There will really be chaos if any of the gender suddenly goes extinct in an instant. I am a woman, I am a feminist by default and I did not see anything offending for me on the series.

The parts that I loved the most were mostly at the final pages (here’s some of it):


The line: “…you would have said no to the man, but yes to the last man?” had all the feels. I did not expect the series to even conclude to leave some heartache for me. Especially when… (oops no spoilers here).

Any act of help is never too little.

Session Road, Baguio. 4 am. July 7, 2015

After alighting the bus, I had my breakfast first, and spent sometime there waiting for the rain to thin out and the first ray of sun, before finding my way to my booked inn (which was like a good 20 minute walk from there). I felt really cold even as I was inside the fastfood place. But after I ate I kind of warmed up a bit. Ha. Fuel was all I needed.

It was 6 am I think when the rain stopped and I went out. By the side of the road, was a blind man, he had a tin can in front from him, he was holding out his hands for alms. I never met my grandfather but I felt really disheartened by the sight of old people being left to the streets. Especially when I looked at his dysfunctional eyes. The weather was a bit chilly because it had rained and yet he had no jacket or anything thicker on him to keep him warm. I reckon he must be feelin cold, I did felt cold before I ate, and who would have known when this old man had his last meal? 

He was feeling cold and kind of shaking, I realized as I was getting close. No one had given him alms yet. It was too early I guess. He was a good 40 steps ahead of my way and I realized that I just cannot stand walking past him and not giving a fuck so I went back and looked at some fastfood on the side to get him a coffee and a club sandwich. Then I gave it to him. 

He was thankful, of course. I told him to be careful on the coffee because it was kind of hot. He was smiling and that alone made my day. I know what I gave him wasn’t enough but hopefully it starts and gets him for the day. Then I walked away. I was so damn close to tears.

I know how it feels to be helpless and no one even knows that you’re suffering. Or that they know it, they just don’t offer any support or help. 

The next day, I went back to the spot where I first saw him. He wasn’t there. So I tried again on the third day, I was hoping to give the old man some company for a while since maybe all I can offer him is some time and maybe another meal. But he wasn’t there. I went around Session Road hoping maybe he’d be on the other side of the street. He wasn’t. I asked the lady who sold newspapers near the spot where I first saw him, and she had no idea since the man was not a regular on that spot.

I felt sad and happy at the same time. I don’t know where he is, and what happened to him after that fateful morning and that made me sad. But, I am joyful too that I was able to give him a little something, that I acted to care and helped him alleviate, momentarily, of the hardness in his life. 

I offered what I could and it mattered.


2014 was not my year. But it was the year that I learned the joy of solo backpacking. It taught me things I never would have realized with all the ruckus and noise I’d have if I’d be with company.

It all started when I badly broke my heart and ego. Cliche hahaha! And looking back I was like, yeah thanks, I learned a lot.

Travelling alone helps you grow, mentally and emotionally, like an intimate meeting of oneself through solitude.

So here are the things I learned for about a year and half now of having solo travels:

1. You get to appreciate yourself and other people more than you thought you ever could.

You see people do things the way you wouldn’t, like how they won’t even blurt a wee “thank you” to a waiter or how they don’t use the word “please” as if saying it is a total waste of time. You see how the flaws in yourself that you were minding for years doesn’t really matter because everyone’s got them, like for example, I used to be really conscious about my stretchmarks and my not so curvy bikini body. But then, when I have gone solo on beaches, I gained that confidence and mindset that if I won’t mind it, then it doesn’t matter. Truly liberating that I get to accept who I am, and what I’m made of. (I may be bantering about my small boobs but hey, I love myself, I’m just stating a fact and wishing too heehee)

imageYou also get to be mindful of other people who needs care and love, because you know well the lack of it. You learn to be more kind, courteous and tolerating. You may still be that bad ass bitch inside but you learn to know who needs to see that kind of person that you are. You become selectively bitchy in short.

You learn to observe people and that makes you think that what if you are in their shoes, would you be doing the same? You reflect on the person that you are and the person you want to be and most importantly, you discover the kind of people you want to be with.


imageI have this fear of taking trains. Not because it gets crowded. Whenever I am alone at a train station I can’t help but get intrusive thoughts that I might jump on the rails as the train comes closer. It scares me that I might do it. I literally panic when I have no other choice but to take the train. Though I only get the panic attacks whenever I am alone, I feel perfectly safe and sane though whenever I am with someone.

Whenever I am alone, I find time to try conquering this phobia. But sometimes anxiety catches me long before I get my ticket. Ha. But sometimes I get to conquer it. and those are one of the precious moments that I get to feel that I’ve gone really brave. It will take time I know but someday phobia I know, I will beat you.

Someday I’m gonna beat every fear. Every trigger I have. Just so you wait.

2. Freedom and Independence

You realize that you don’t really have to depend on others and depend on worldly things to make yourself happy, sometimes all you need is yourself and an eye for satisfaction.

You have all the time you need, and no one’s saying that you have to stay or get there at that time or what. Nobody’s telling you that you can’t just stay in the hotel room all day! You are free. You are all you need and time is in your hands! Plus you can eat whatever you like! No more, ‘oh you can’t eat that, you are lactose intolerant’.

On my first trip alone, I wake up early to swim as the sun slowly blazes to its morning warmth, and as people flock to meet the morning waves I get out of the water to get my breakfast and read on the hammock to my heart’s content. I had all the time I want and need. What could I ask for more?

imageYou get to find ways and places on your own. When I travel alone, the most exciting part for me is finding my way around to my lodging place. I always make it a point to have the placed pinned on my phone’s map, as I get to it using GPS haha. Thank you technology.imageIt’s like finding a way around your life’s mishaps. You realize that yes, you can actually get away from being ‘lost’.

3. You realize beauty and joy in the simplest of things.

Sometimes, when we travel with friends, we try to get most out of the travel by going in scenic places and going on tours in such cramped amount of time that you have. We hurry ourselves and take pictures then move to another, and you disguise satisfaction by having pictures just for the sake of being “there” too.

I realized on my solo goings that you don’t really have to do what others (aka travel blogs) have done. I realized that one learns to experience a place more if you only let the place, culture and the solitude speak to you. Like for example, I loved watching the sunset at La Union better than the tiredness I felt after the tour at Baler. Though I’m not saying that I did not love Baler, or don’t take the tours.

imageimageimageAll I’m saying is, in that precious moment that you appreciate the place just for being it, devoid of all the pageantry for tourism, it’s overwhelming. It makes my heart aflutter with the raw beauty it presents.

Like also for example my solo trip at Baguio. It was a couple of days alone and I enjoyed it. Most of the time though, I was at the inn. Having tea at the cafe and reading. Well I did enjoy early morning walks through the stretch of Session Road, looking for cafes to have breakfast in, getting around the city and when I tire by midday (most likely by 11am) I go back to my inn. And after that, I’d chill and sleep on my room and eat when I wake up. I would have wanted to go out at night but nah, I loved the inn’s cafe, they served heartwarming meals and generous cups of tea, it was so homey.

But what I really loved with my stay in Baguio was my room at night. It had a nice view of the city and beautiful nightlights. And that made me realize that sometimes we need not go anywhere else to find that view for us to appreciate a place at its fullest, because sometimes what you were looking for is right outside your window.

imageAnd of course never will I forget my walk trips along Abbey Road and the whole neighborhood of NW8 aka St. John’s Wood (it’s like the highstreet of Central London). Who would have thought there was beauty in a wallfull stretch of vandals? I was breathing history through my nostrils. I was fortunate that I was just a block away from this road. (Was not really alone at London, I was staying at my relatives but most of the time whenever I don’t have sessions I get to walk and explore alone)

imageWhen you’ve gone places on your own, you learn to find your own kind of view and why not in turn try to appreciate what it offers? It’s like how we need to find our own view with things in our life, and that we should not settle for something just because it’s everyone’s point of view, you are entitled to your own. Find it.

~~~~~~~~ random~~~~~~~image

They didn’t have much in life but they managed to smile and be happy with what they have, unlike us, we have almost everything we’d basically need yet we still find reasons to not be joyous. I then realized that maybe we have to remind ourselves that we have to be thankful of what we have and find joy in the littlest things. We are more than fortunate with the things that we have right this very moment.

We can never be contented enough, and we’d be frustrated a lot, but that is how life does for everyone. Enough happiness is a matter of satisfaction. Let’s appreciate the things we might have overlooked or that we might have taken for granted. We are more than blessed, so learn to smile!

4. Little acts of kindness makes the world a better place.

I believe our country abounds of kind people. It’s just that we get really paranoid of deceit that sometimes we take it for granted, sometimes we even dismiss it.

I have had random kindness acts from total strangers. Like that guy who lent me a peso for I the conductor had no change for my bills and I had no coins with me. Even had a milkshake from a random person because he said I looked too engrossed with my reading on the hammock, I must chill a bit (I wanted to know who it was but the waiter won’t budge that I just had to regard my thanks to whoever that milkshake was from). I have even witnessed people doing random acts of kindness in the urban, really rare though. My faith in humanity restored everytime.

And when you have seen so much kindness in a harsh world, you can’t help but be kind too.

London teems of kindness too but without the hint of suspiciousness we Filipinos have.

imageA guy handed me this note and asked if he could hug me. God I was taken aback at first but I said yes. It was a long hug. The kind of hug that calms. When I finally had my dose of hug he asked if I felt alright then. When I said yes, he smiled, turned and waved goodbye. I never knew his name but I believe that was the virtue of kindness: You don’t have to know who did it, it’s enough to feel that someone cares.

Also, I have had meals payed for in advance by people in front of me! It was not a one time incident though that had that feeling that I have to pay forward for the next in line to make their day too.

Kindness is damn contagious we should spread it. But as you are spreading kindness, don’t expect kindness in return. Kindness is a one way thing, but who knows maybe they may not have returned your kindness because they have given theirs to others. A domino effect that makes the harsh world a better place.

5. You discover things about the world and yourself.

One of the things that I discovered was the beauty of the classic reads. Of being a bookworm I have read almost every young adult mainstream bibliographies of John Green, Rainbow Rowell, David Levithan, Dan Brown, Neil Gaiman (except Sandman), JK Rowling (even her books as Robert Galbraith) every series, like GoT, LoTR, Percy Jackson.. etc. Yes. I’ve read a lot.

And when I came to stay for a few months in London I began to read Arthur Conan Doyle, Jules Verne even Edgar Allan Poe. I fell in love with their works. Sometimes I’d laugh at how impossible their scifi stories were as I was reading them, but then I realize the immense imagination they exhibited in their time.

imageI also finally learned how to make comfortable small talks with total strangers. I used to keep to myself when I’m alone but I learned that I can actually channel a conversationalist in me. I’m a really shy girl, but at times, I get to beat it.

6. You learn to decide the things worth having a run for your money, in short you become money wise.

On my first solo trip at Aninuan, Puerto Galera I preferred and I do recommend Sunset at Aninuan since we have been regulars there. Though I was familiar with the place, it felt different checking in alone. It is costly though, a room for two for P3300/night but it had alot of amenities and perks like, it had a bar, restaurant and pool exclusive for guests. Plus they had laundry services, hahaha. I loved their laundry service, eases your life after a tiring stay.

imageIt was my first solo trip and it was weeks away before March good thing their rates weren’t on peak-season yet. I stayed for 2 nights there and it was literally money burn, had to bandage my wallet for a week or two after that.

My second solo trip was a result of a bit of frustration of our trip to Baler last September 2014. I felt like I have not enjoyed the place fully that I had to comeback on impulse that November of the same year (just before I leave again for London for a few weeks).

I booked the same hotel we had, costed me P1600 a night, not bad for the price because the crew were really attentive and friendly, plus you have guest kits, towels and slippers! Although wifi signal on my room that time wasn’t great I had to go out my room or into the lobby. But hey, I didn’t really go there to surf the net so I guess it doesn’t really matter.

imageThe Kuyas also make sure to give you a glass of water after every swim. Really great service. I loved their menu too! Everything sounds yummy, looks yummy and is really yummy.

When I went to La Union last April, I booked an AC room at Lola Nanny’s for P500/day, hey not bad. It had a good location, and homely, lovely, droolably cooked meals though they had a common bath, which was not so bad at all.

I stayed for three days, actually wanting to stay longer.

imageAnd just this July, I spent some days at Baguio.

I actually have relatives there, but I preferred to book an inn instead to, of course, make it really a solo backpacking trip.

imageI found this inn mentioned in a blog that I had to look at it since it had a lot of good feedback. It was said to be cheap but really good.

I was wrong. It was not good. It was like home! It was definitely better than I expected.

I was given an ordinary room, no fan or AC because duh, it was really chilly you’d like to keep your windows closed at night. The room costed me P400/night really cheap and great deal because though it was a common bathroom (but male and female had it’s own) I realized I was the only woman renting a room that week. I had the restroom and bath for myself! I stayed for two nights, and I wanted to stay longer but I decided to go back to QC since there was a storm and I didn’t want to be trapped there in case the storm hits Benguet.

I wonder where I’ll go next and how cheap my lodge can get! I learned that you need not spend a lot for quick getaways, you’re there for the place, for the food, for the experience and you have to make every cent count to say you had the most out of it.

7. Alone and Lonely are two different things.

Alone is when you are on your own and you are satisfied by the company of yourself. You may be with yourself only, but you know you have others behind your back who support and believe in you.

Lonely is when you are in the company of yourself yet you want somebody else’s. It’s an unsatisfied feeling, like having someone/something else decide for your own happiness.

I never felt lonely when I traveled on my own. I just felt happy, independent, and strong.

I felt confident and I seemed to have carried that newfound confidence with me everywhere. I may still be the shy girl around cuties (hahahahaha) but who knows, maybe it’s just a ploy. 😜

Going on solo backpacking is really worthwhile. It’s refreshing and empowering. It gives you the feeling that you are in charge of yourself and what you want, and yes— no one can stop you.

Was young but not stupid.

Here are some of the memories that I remembered after looking at pictures from my old alma mater, that was like from Kinder to HS years.

Moments that I came out to be so not my age, but truly appropriate for the situation.

1. The black White guy.

In our school we all used to hold hands singing the Lord’s prayer in mass, even moving to the aisle to hold hands with the person on the other side. (I believe everyone did this just before the SARS scare came)

There was a group of brothers who transferred to our school and they were black. And being in a school of typical Filipinos they stood out of course. And fortunately they had a surname of White. Yep. No joke, they were really the White brothers.

One time, our section attended a mass. And for a moment my classmates had been very giddy and were arguing in their hushed voices about who is to sit on the side of the aisle because nobody wanted to hold hands with one of the White brothers on the other side. It was the first time that we had mass with one of the White brothers.

I stood up, left my friends and took the seat.

I remembered the higher year students/his classmates and my classmates looking at me if I would actually hold hands with him as we meet at the aisle. Yes. I did. Because why not?

That moment I felt like “am I really odd to not feel anything wrong with holding hands with a black person? It’s not like they have a disease.”

2. Ending A Friendship

We were the three bffs, Selyn, Lea and me. We were grade five then when Selyn revealed that by highschool she’ll be transferring to another private school.

We cried. We three were best of friends since kindergarten. We were the cream of the crop girlfriends of our batch since kinder.

But as young as we are we knew at some point we had to end our friendship because by that time, we were having interests on different things. We were slowly growing out each other, we were not fighting over anything but we just know to ourselves that maybe.. this is what they call growing up.

We cried for hours. We knew that by the end of middleschool we three would still be friends but would never be as close as we were again.

And come highschool, it came true. Lea and I were always on the same science section until our senior year, but had different cliques, and yes, we grew to prefer different sets of people. It was okay. But sometimes I’d remember how close we two were, and then I compare ourselves to our past and what we have become and then I understand.

We preferred that we grow individually, we decided to not grow together because by that time, we knew what we want, and sometimes getting what we want means letting go of people. But letting go, doesn’t mean that you forget about them.

It’s more like, you leave for a while and you two stopped talking. But when you stopped talking, it didn’t mean that you didn’t want them around. You want them around, and you only stopped talking because you want them to decide if they still want you around too. You two can go side by side to your dreams but doesn’t mean that they would take that path to the end.

We cried that moment because we realized, friendships start and sometimes it ends. And when it ends we just become grateful of the people that came and touched our lives.

Up to this very moment, I am still grateful for having Lea and Selyn by my side through those tough childhood years. Thank you girls.

3. Believing In People

Aside from my girl bffs from Kindergarten, I also have my guy bestfriend, yep also from Kindergarten. 

He loved to draw, read and write. We were like the exact copy of each other’s personality. We were so alike then, even our sentimentality mirrors. 

We were grade four I think when middleschool started to have it’s own newsletter called Tot’s Tidings, everyone was excited, everyone wanted to be part of it, everyone wanted to contributed and yes, everyone wanted to be featured!

It was also the time when our school started joining news writing conferences. I don’t know how, but our school actually had produced gifted young writers, even winning places at national level as I remember. I wanted to be like them, of course who wouldn’t want to be like them? They had banners with their names, they had their achievements posted on boards to be admired by parents and students alike. And so yes, Argel (my bestfriend) shared that dream with me. We wanted to be like them!

And so, we joined every writing contest in our school, whenever there was a celebration (which was like every month, seriously yes).  We send our literary pieces to our teachers and to the newsletter team hoping it gets published. We  joined every event, sportsfest, speaking contest, drawing contest, on the spot writing, spelling bees, and other bees (our school actually had a lot of things I wonder now how we never get tired back then) just for the sake of our want to see our names be printed into that wee little precious newsletter.

It was kind of easy for me, I was always on the honor roll, and in our school, when you’re cream of the crop your teachers tend to favor your works most of the time . Sometimes I think if I was really good at what I did or they just had to favor it? So yes, it was fairly easy for me to get my name on the newsletter, winning at declamations, writing contests, bees and the honor roll list at the end of every year. But it so happened that Argel tries really hard, but sometimes he just can’t land on a name anywhere. Sadly, only students on the honor roll were published, and sometimes he tries his best ut all he get is a recognition as an Achiever (the list next to honor rolls) at every end of the year.

He was a good student, great really.Though maybe he just gets a really hard time with math and writing exercises, not that he writes badly, it just so happened that let’s just say he had a fairly uptight handwriting. I hated it when teachers would call on him and when I ask about it, he’d say it was because of his handwriting. I hated the teachers criticizing his work just because he had a bad case of writing too sharply uptight or layman-ly, they say “gandahan mo ang handwriting mo”. I read his work and it was fairly great!! They were looking at his essay like he needs a good handwriting before they would want to read it! 

And so I remembered that day I told him, “One day, you’ll prove our teachers wrong, one day you’ll get to write for the newsletter and everybody would read your piece! Someday they’ll look beyond that handwriting because they would want to look beyond the words because you’re a good writer.”

I remember that at some point he had a shot too at our middleschool newspaper I think he was a news contributor. I remember though that I landed as assistant editor in chief just before I graduated from middleschool.

And so came highschool and the try ins for the highschool newsletter. I wasn’t that excited to try out for that because I wanted to concentrate more on my leadership skills. But still, my name still ended being in that newsletter as I won contests, honor rolls etc., and guess who made it in: Argel. He was discovered by our English teacher in our freshman years and had him join news writing conferences, and he won. I was so damn proud of my guy. I even remember our teacher telling him “ang pangit lang talaga ng handwriting mo pero ang galing mo sumulat”! He had a good play and knack for words you’d be really moved by his pieces.

That was the difference between our teachers in middleschool and in highschool. My middleschool teacher did not bother to read his work just because of his handwriting, but our highschool teachers tediously tries to encourage him to improve his handwriting because they know he had the makings of a good writer. 

That made me realize that I may have been young then, but I had the will to believe in people, unlike some of the elders who seem to forget that sometimes they have to see beyond what’s physical.



we want to own that second for ourselves
and ourselves alone
that as it comes to pass, we linger more, we take it all in

we close our eyes because
we want to remember how it feels
to be selfless
and selfish at the same time

we want to remember that moment
in case someday we’d need to remember how it feels to be full of life

and in case someday, 
moments like these no longer come as easy as it is now

Outside the window


It was breathtaking. Watching the sunset and as the night slowly consumed the place in darkness. The lights looked like stars in the sky that I can’t help but admire and stare at the view so fucking long. I realized that most of the time, being in an unfamiliar place we look for the things that other  people had seen just for the sake of seeing it too, or that having the comfort of familiarity sense. We go places just to find that thing that they claimed as really good, not realizing that sometimes, the most breathtaking view that no one has ever realized is waiting right outide your window.

Sunday at the side of the road

It was unusually jammed at that part of the city. I hated it. We were stuck there for like minutes and it felt like I’ve gone years back as I look past the window.

Community General Hospital. The letters glared at me like a provocation. I remembered the room, the bed, the weather, the food I ate the night before, my mom’s screams, the pain. I remembered the tears, the fear, the uncertainty. I remembered it all. I remembered the moment where she ended and where this all started. I remembered every second, every moment, every movement, every word I said through those seemingly long minutes of mental and emotional torture. I remembered how I lost her, how she came slipping through time and I can’t do anything. I remembered how it felt to be so helpless, miserable and unsure.

It was a couple of minutes being at that part of the city. And I look past the window. It was a hospital at the side of the road. My brother was talking to me and realizing that I wasn’t listening that he stopped. Maybe he knows. 

That I wasn’t looking at the building right before my eyes, that past the window and tinted glass…

 All I see are memories.

“Don’t you ever miss your mom?”

A kid asked me when she found out that I have lost my mother some years ago. I just smiled at her, knowing she’s so oblivious to the kind of pain when someone questions you about death. But I answered her.

“Of course, I miss her. And in my mind, I’m kind of whispering, the trailing words to my statement.

And maybe missing her is a mere understatement, most of the time, I want her back.

How can a dog ever sleep…

knowing it hears the sweetest music,

and the always untimely noise

the faintest sighs

and the birds’ chirps

the loudest booms,

and crackle of fire

how can the dog sleep hearing almost everything around him?

Maybe like us, they also find time to shut the world off 

Hoping to find peacefulness as we close our eyes.



have you ever enjoyed something so much you close your eyes and take it all in?
you close your eyes and try to imprint that moment in your mind
you live the moment and enjoy it
you keep it yourself and yourself alone
not minding if people with you feels the same way as you do
you chose that second to be really happy and satisfied
and it doesn’t matter if they remember it as much as you do


I do know how to ride a bike since I was 10 but everytime I see a vehicle or people walking ahead and behind me I tell myself to calm down, because I get these thoughts that I might just collide with them or purposefully hit them. 

 But most of the time, instead of calming down I stop to alight and walk. And it’s really weird and tiring. I still can’t ride through busy crowds and when there are vehicles around. Even though I had been panicking most of the time, it helps to know that there are people who will go through the trail and back with you and make you believe yourself that someday, somehow, you can conquer that fear too.

Dream Journal

Currently writing my dream snippets. Hoping to somehow understand what caused this sudden shift. Or is March just really that hard for me? I keep getting dreams with my Mom in there, and she felt alive. Or am I just really being haunted by my wish for her life that cannot be granted. Life on queue again. This is really tiring. 

February 6, 2015

This time of the year again.

The last time I actually celebrated my birthday was when I turned 18. It was a big celebration, a whole day at the resort and spa with everyone that matters present. It was jovial, awkward and funny, but definitely memorable. I didn’t know that it would be the last time I’ll actually have myself together.

I remember that on our way home we almost got hit by a truck. It was 6:00 am and we were at the van, I was at the front beside our driver and I remember that we were at a crossroad and out of nowhere a truck almost hit the side where I was sitting. It was only inches and I feared for my life but nonetheless I soon forgot about it when I fell asleep on the way home, only to remember it later in the afternoon.

What if I actually died that moment? What if everything that happened thereafter, everyone I lost after that day was just a mere payment for the life I was given again? What if it was actually my time but someone prayed so hard for my everyday safety and long life that even the Reaper can’t execute my fated death? Sometimes I wish that I had gone first than go all through this sadness and pain of attachment with people who passed away.

I grow old, and see children become adults, see adults reach senecence and even see people pass away. I grow old. How I wish it was my mother instead who grew old, she deserved to live. I was not ready when she left me. It’s just so hard growing up and you don’t have an older and wiser woman to guide you, to hug you and comfort you. Someone to tell you what you need to know, how to act, and how to keep yourself together.

A month from now and she’ll be 4 years gone. And nothing has changed. I still cry at the thought of her, I still envy my friends who still have their mother and having the time of their lives. A chance I never had. I was too late to grab that chance.

January 15, 2015


I was sitting on that plastic chair, playing with a baby. And “swoosh”. Boom.

The night sky was filled with falling lights. Red, blue, orange, white. I could recall our chemistry lecture about these colors and their chemical equivalents. I was just staring all the while. Straining my neck from looking up, but I knew better than to look away.

It went on for minutes. It was beautiful, I was awed. I felt like I had all the reason to be feel young again. It was spouting colors everywhere, I was not merely watching it, I was at the center. It was the perfect spot. Like falling stars, or rain or confetti straight going down your face, it was amazing.

And just when it finally ended I had to close my eyes, because for a moment I was expecting more. Wanting it to last a little more and secretly hoping forever. But it did not. For a moment there I had escaped all anxieties, and when I opened my eyes again, it all came crashing back in.

little by little we are shatterring
but we don’t seem to notice,
we just seem to change in their eyes
new lines add up on the cracks
we hold on a string so fragile
we hope it doesn’t break
not now

The wine-stained dress

She was dressed appropriately for the occassion. All poised and confident, elegant. She was all smiles and spewed ardor of glamour and class wherever she went. People looked at her, and stared, they even did second glances while mentally saying, “that girl is so fine”. But then out of nowhere a glass of wine was spilled on her outfit. And people hushed. Everyone is now intently curious of what will happen next.

She was not expecting a scene like this. She was shocked, mouth agape for seconds and she closed her eyes for sometime. She took a deep breath and looked unexpectedly a lot calmer. And for the first time, people were confused because she started laughing. They were giving those unsure glances to each other still hushed and dumbfounded.

A friend tapped her and the act seemingly took her away from the euphoria. She stopped laughing. But she was still smiling. She walked away from the party crowd and went to the fix herself at the restroom.

Her friend, then came to assist and asked her about the incident.

“Why were you laughing a while ago? I mean, I think you should be upset, you’re the night’s eyecandy and your night was ruined by that big blotch of stain now….”

“Was it such a scene? I noticed that the people fell silent for sometime.”

“Yes, it was such a scene. I just didn’t get it why you actually laughed…”

“So you heard…”

“It was too damn silent I knew something was up so I came to look for you and then I saw you laughing, with the wine spilt on your dress.”

“No, I was not referring to my laugh. It was the silence. You heard the silence. That judging silence.

People judge by what they see. By what you have, and what you don’t have. I laughed because I realized if I actually went to this party with such a simple dress and no jewelry, do you think they would still fall silent seeing that scene?

I’m guessing that yes, they would. So it actually makes no difference.”

“I don’t get what you’re actually pointing out.”

“I’m just saying that inevitable things come and it doesn’t matter what you have and what you don’t have at that time. People will see you. And there will always be those that will judge you. So I laughed.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“I laughed, because in the end of this night, it’s not about their judgments or compliments, or their words and thoughts that should matter to me. I should not burden myself of people who will judge my carelessness or the physical being they see. This night isn’t about what they think of me.

I laughed because in the end, what should only matter to me is myself. The experience.”

“I think you had enough wine for tonight my dear”

“No. I think you don’t understand, but I don’t have to explain myself.”

would you rather have pictures on your phone as memories,
easy to delete and forget

or would you rather have them etched in your mind? because you lived the moment and there’s no way anyone can take that away from you

you stopped blowing candles on your birthday cake because
you know that no matter how many birthday candles you put out,
it cannot grant your wish about having yourself back together

A scar.

When I was younger, I remember mom telling me that whenever I speak to people, no matter at what emotion they’re in… you should always look straight in their eyes.

I was in Grade 4 when my eye was accidentally poked by a pencil. Nope, I did not go blind. Haha. But I had a sort of scar there ever since. But it is not too noticeable. Or so I just thought it wasn’t. And up to this day, it’s either people think I just came from crying or that people just don’t notice it.

When I was younger it was a struggle. I suddenly shied away from looking straight at people’s eyes because I don’t want them to see my eyes and that blot of seemingly dried blood. I actually asked if there’s a way to have it be gone forever. They said yes, but it involved scraping… uhh, so NO. Not sure if it was true, or the doctor was bluffing and hiding an illness from me. Haha.
Anyway, the scar never affected my eyesight. I was 20/20 until I graduated from HS and after that I’ve been having correction glasses for recurring astigmatism.

And later on in my life, I learned to love that scar. I realized that not everyone looks straight into people’s eyes as much as I do. And I think looking into people’s eyes shows sincerity and honesty. And only a handful of the people I know has actually asked what “that” is in my eye. Only a handful people has actually examined my face, looked into my eyes and seen that scar.

They saw that scar because they were actually looking into the “windows of my soul” and not merely staring. They’re only a handful and I was never wrong about their being honest and sincere.

Most people, look with their fleeting interest glance, though there is nothing wrong about that. But have you ever taken time to look into people’s faces and actually admire their features, the lines and wrinkles when they smile, the way their eyebrows are kept unkempt but still result in a perfection that they are? Well, truth is, I am that creepy because when people talk to me, I try to really remember their faces, the way they speak and the way they smile by examining their faces. That is why I’m not really good with names, but I’m good with faces, especially if we happen to have spent a moment of talking (the reason why I don’t remember people who hasn’t said anything to me but Hi and Hello) Plus I really love admiring eyes I’m not sure if people find it creepy that I can look straight at their eyes HAHAHA.

I’m not telling you which eye has that scar. It’s for you to find out.

When sandcastles are no more.

The waves took them in. Ebbing away our fascination of having built a majesty with such a fine, frail thing. We never count the sand we just take what we think is needed.

We stare at the lump after the big wave. It’s not the same but never mind, we can always make another.

Of Books and Mom

I do not remember the time that I learned of my love of reading. Maybe subconciously I was idolizing my mom who’s always so engrossed with her books (for she’s a college professor), and I love it whenever I see her go from one book to another like she’s so tranced by what’s she’s doing. I never told her that I loved books or reading, she just knew. But of course, a mother would know her child.

I remember that one Christmas eve when mom gave me three Og Mandino books, The Gift of Acabar and Greatest Salesman in the World books 1& 2. And I was like… Mommy don’t I get to read Grimm’s fairytales first? Imagine, I was JUST 8 then. But of course I did read them, though I never really understood them (I was just in Grade 2 and had meek English vocabulary). Back then, reading for me was just about flipping pages until the last and merely just going through words and even skipping checking the dictionary to check the meaning (because it’s just so tedious).

But then I read them again when I turned Grade 6 and realized how motivating and beautiful those books were. I personally loved The Gift of Acabar.

I remember how she’d take me to Manila just to spend the whole day walking in and out of bookstores, for she’s looking for books for her teaching, and mostly just because she loves seeing me go through cases, pick a book, flip its pages and consume time until we’re ready to go.

She’d even buy me a book or two that I like sometimes. And the books she bought me helped me actually when we had reading sessions when I was in Grade 6 because I no longer have to borrow a book from the library.

But anyway, I also loved borrowing and staying at the library during my primary schooling. Our school had such immense collection of novels for kids and teens in the elementary library that even when I had crossed over to highschool, I would sometimes borrow a book from the elementary library and read it at the the highschool library (yes our school had separate libraries for gradeschool and highschool and college).

Once, my mom also gave me Dale Carnegie’s How To Win Friends And Influence People. Haha. Now, that had me thinking if she thought I was such an antisocial then. But anyway it was a great book. Really helpful. (So yeah, maybe I was really antisocial??)

The last book she gave me was Every Daughter Should Have a Book Like This to Remind Her How Wonderful She Is by Douglas Pagels for my 18th celebration. It was a collection of poems and notes for daughters. I know it wasn’t worth that much (because I’ve been seeing those at the stores) but it was just a heartful token because I know she just wanted to remind me that for her, I am wonderful.

It’s Christmas time again. And all I remember is what happened that Christmas 2010. How she was having hallucinations that eve that we called for medical attention, and yes we even spent New Year at the hospital.

All I remember is how I envy those I see with their moms, and how I really get excited meeting my friends’ Moms. I remember how I’d love to call anyone as Mom just for the sake of satiating the crave for an older and wiser female figure. How I wish I still had a Mom who would come with me to pick dresses and shorts or even show me the joy of having pedicures and manicures. Someone I can confide my thoughts and feelings. Someone who’d stack chic toiletries at home and makeup kits. Someone who’d make me coffee when I’m home studying. Someone who’d motivate me and get into my soul by her kind words. Someone who knows me and who will never get tired of me.

Someone that’s not just anyone else.

36 Things I Learned this 2014

1. It’s really hard to grow back a pixie, though I’m enjoying my time with my hair being short.

2. Eyebrows are definitely harder to grow back though.

3. There’s a lot of perks with going to a beach getaway by yourself. Free drinks and actual conversations with people.

4. But it’s definitely a lot more fun going on beach getaways with friends. Because it’s easier to meet new people with your pack. Plus of course you have your wingmen with you for support.

5. Using fake names on the beach is so funny and fun. And only revealing your true names to people you want to still get in touch with after. Imagine their shock. 😂😂 So if you happen to hear the names Kheil Maranan, Blaine Geronimo and Joey Zapata, that’s us HAHAHAHAH.

6. Waterfalls are such great spots to spot hunkies than beaches.

7. Going ninja for late night rice binging is only fun if you don’t get caught. I swear they thought I was a sneaking burglar or something haha.

8. Reading a lot of books is really calming. But also playing Pokemon when you are tired of words can satiate the feeling you want to achieve.

9. We’ve been really engrossed with looking down our gadgets these days we forgot to appreciate what’s right in front of us.

10. It’s a lot more convenient living privately than telling everything just to everyone. Or maybe I am really just a bit introverted. I’m not really sure.

11. It’s okay to have getaways privy of your parents knowing, but make sure they won’t bust you, because they can punish you by a week of no card, load, even deprive you of your wallet. Happened to me. Ugh. It was really hard.

12. Maybe I need to open another bank account without their knowledge and keep it in secret in case they’d confiscate again my sources-for-splurging. Now I’m hoping they won’t get to read this…’cause shit.

13. Don’t get too high or you might fall back hard. (this one is for that pilot ..l..)

14. Life is too short and unpredictable for you to not roll in the grass, make paper airplanes, blow bubbles in a public place and do some hard yolo-ing.

15. Get really drunk once in a while and realize that you are not getting any younger.

16. Pay compliments to people who you think deserve a praise because a little appreciation goes a long way.

17. There is no such thing as excessive “thank you’s”.

18. Life is a real bitch, bitch her back.

19. Refuse to crumble. Never falter.

20. Instead of settling for temporary happiness try to slowly invest for a long term source of euphoria.

21. Don’t please people. But channel your inner kindness to those seem worthy.

22. It’s very liberating to slowly sweep off my digital footprints and share ample infos only to selected people.

23. I don’t know what’s going on with people’s lives, and that’s okay. Because I don’t really have to focus on their’s because I have my own to live.

24. The Good Samaritan story, one that was never heard of, is sure a lot better than the ones everybody knows.

25. I always want a greener pasture, the “new beginnings” kind of sentiment. But I realize that maybe I really need to start again. Start again, where I left off. Starting a lot of things, isn’t bad, but it’s definitely better if I’m starting things right after I finished a previous goal.

26. I said 2014 was going to be my year. And no, it wasn’t. But anyway, I stil have 2015 and so on to claim.

27. I’m just so damn thankful for everyone who were a part of this year. People come and go, and we don’t really have to be so sad stricken by that. Just be thankful that they came and once shared a moment with you. Moments that may never happen again, but at the least, memories were etched in your mind. Be it a sad or a happy memory, it was at least a moment, a lesson, to keep forever.

28. I need to focus more this 2015. Plus I need to find a good distraction to keep me calm.

29. You don’t need a right time or right person for you to fall for. You need the right courage. Courage of possible hurting, and trusting. Courage of stretching beyond your patience-line. Courage of diving into uncertainties.

30. It really is hard to be teeming with ideas and too lazy to write them all out.

31. Some people were really born to charm their way into life. How I wish they wrote a Dummies book for that.

32. Don’t ask the world to hear you. That’s too mainstream.

33. Be comfortable in your own skin, but don’t get walking around naked in public. Embrace your flaws, and perfections. Yep, not imperfections.

34. You don’t grow witty overnight. So I thank every deity, above, under and those on the sides for blessing me as if I was in front of the queue.

35. Experiencing things and/or going to places for the first time is not something to be anxious of. Not everyone gets to make a leap like that yet.

36. I’m laughing at you now, because you are reading this. Hahahahahahahahahaha.

Wifi World.

People these days revolve their life around this Wifi World. As if not having wifi is a loss or a con. Ugh. I’d rather have reading as my virtual reality than all these social network buzz.

I do have my social platforms but I am beginning to despise it. I just recently deleted (yes, delete not deactivate) my Facebook account because I feel so suffocated by the useless, time wasting, scrolling down I do whenever I go out. I have been missing social interaction in the flesh. What happened to us. We no longer find contentment in being devoid of our gadgets. We are all just scrolling, swiping, waiting. Nobody finds comfort in solitude anymore. We all want to be connected, be in the loop.

We have become liars. Liars of our emotion. Of self-worth.

Someday you’ll get over of what you’ve felt for me
I don’t even deserve such admiration
I am nothing but a drab of sadness hiding beneath a facade of happiness

I know happiness, I have felt it before.
But like water I cannot hold it still in my hands.
It slips as it comes
But what if happiness is actually like that
Maybe it is okay to be sad

Hair Journey 2014


I started the year with my usual do: side parted hair with a braided hairband.


But the end of January came and I was feeling the itch to go pixie.

But still did not pursue it. Though I had it cut a little shorter than usual.


But the next week came (it’s now FEBRUARY)…


And after three days…


Birthday came and I was sporting a real short do.



March was when I had a coffee date and found a new friend from Los Banos…



Was the month I have learned the art of going solo on buffets…



This is the start of the awkward growing out months…





This is the most awkward growing out stage… hahaha






The epic Puerto Galera getaway with Joey, Blaine and Veronica with yours truly Kheil…


This was the start of my donning ponytails again because… because it was such a joy to have my hair in pony tail again!!


This was a really hard month… but my hair continued its awesomeness…




It was such a relief now that I can have my hair in ponytail and don some bangs legitly again! Plus I had it colored… just a little bit, not really too noticeable because I had jet black virgin hair. God that was the last part of me that was virgin.





I could now feel the unmanageability of dry hair (because of coloring) but still pursued everyday as a confident curlyhead…



Experimenting with hairstyles for my now manageable hair length…






Pulling out really great pictures with my desired hair length and style…





I’m ending 2014 with a strong hair game hoping 2015 is definitely then a year I can really claim. CHEERS!! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

bits of OC tales (oh how i want to change this title with corrct capitalization, and spelling, but im pushing myself to my limit and try to not even nptice the need for apostrophes, and periods)

From elementary to college, I always have this impulse that I should have the first page of my new notebook blank with which the next page should be filled with notes with my best handwriting and no mistakes or whatever erasure. If ever then that the second page felt like “ooh-that’s-not-a-good-handwriting” or if there happened to be mistakes, then fate would be it that the page will be ripped. And so again and again will I write a”second page” until it felt right. Then I’d just look beside and see all the ripped pages and my now thin “new” notebook. Sometimes I never get done rewriting my notes because I never get to finish that “second page”, and can I just say that when I say “sometimes” it’s more of: “most of the time”.

When I studied at UPLB it really did took a while before I learned to step out of my comfort zone, aka dorm room, and explore the campus at night. It took a lot of guts before I tried other eating places other than the dorm canteen. Even took a lot of time before I learned to be comfortable with greeting my brods and sisses with a handshake (because a handshake felt like an invasion of my private space, and I was not comfortable with that) it was actually the reason why it was so hard on me to be active with UP CELLS on my first few months as a new member.

I had a desk and I always try to keep my books straight because if it’s not, I wouldn’t have any inclination to study for whatever I need to read or do, just because having the books amess just didn’t feel like it was “conducive for studying”. I never liked the library because it teemed with people and I didn’t like borrowing books that seemed old and dusty and I feared ai would contact diseases from people and old books (though, I have my own bookshelf at home and I don’t mind if the books were old and dusty, they are mine anyway).

Another is that, I never wore shorts before. I was such a fan of pants and I thought my knees are too fragile to even be exposed, that it really took courage before I had worn those PE shorts on the first day, and mind you, I wore it only on my PE class, only at the auditorium. Changing fast after class, not because I had a laboratory class next but for the sole reason that I felt fragile. I only started wearing shorts comfortably, second semester of my sophomore year.

Then I started being messy. And it felt good. I no longer had compulsions of having everything in order. And I thought to myself, ‘oh, I must have grown it out’.

Then came the time that mom frequented the hospital, the time she started dialysis, and when she passed away. Everything just came crashing back.
I went to a deep well of depression and I thank Patch because I have been able to pop my head up after that. I felt fine and tried to get back my life, and I did. For a while.

I went home feeling sleepy, but agitated and worrying for no particular reason. Then I saw my bead box. It was such a mistake having it opened. Because for hours I sat there sorting them by color, not even sparing the littlest beads. It was only when Josh commented that I must have been really bored for sorting those that I told myself to stop. It was hard abrupting the impulse of having beads sorted by color, but I had to stop. It was about an hour and half before I literally had put away that box of beads, and I kept it hidden then someplace far under the bed so I can’t get to it if impulse to sort again comes. Then I knew I was getting worse.

I needed help.

The thing with OCD is that you know how pointless your compulsions are yet you knowing let yourself be drawn to it. And now, it’s getting harder for me to fight back when triggers come. I used to get over my compulsions easily, but lately I have to talk myself out of for minutes to hours before I stop.

I was frequently binge eating, (aside from my actual big appetite that is) getting less sleep and felt more hollow a lot more often. I even had a time where I depended on nicotine’s headache side effect just to get my shut-eye, because I can’t sleep and I don’t know why. I was scared and I don’t know what it was about. It’s actually a lot better to fear something you know of than feel scared about something that you have no idea at all. Fussing over something concrete and known is a lot helpful because you know what you have to talk yourself out, while having the abstract worry, it creeps you pointlessly, paranoia about just anything.

Of fears and non-sensicals I was ephemeral. I was fleeting every now and then. Impulses and compulsions are now interchangeable. Paranoia even more intense.

But somehow I have to fight back, stand above this and hopefully die old.

plus I have to fix myself before I come crashing to anyone’s life again. I am so sorry. So sorry I crashed into your life and left without notice. I just didn’t think you would understand and even accept me as this. Or had I actually overthink again? You don’t have to explain to everyone or even defend me if they’d speak of ill about me. They are right.

Partly. And yes, they were wrong too. Quits.


Someplace far, but temporary. Peaceful but not permanent. Somewhere happy though not really. I’m not alone, but I feel like I am.

Thank you Dad, because you give me everything I need, the love, care, things and attention. Thank you Josh, because you’re always there, always caring, always good, always the best sibling one could ever have. I can never ask for a better family, because we’re already the best, though it’s just the three of us now. And so now here I am, going away from almost everyone, pushing them away. Because I want to be alone and yet not at the same time.

Will there still come a time that I get to fill the hole left by the deaths of people who matter? Or it just stays there forever?

I say fuck off to all the fears and uncertainties that always bother me, of everything that causes anxiety. I need to help myself, I want to get through this exposure therapy alive. I want to kick a lot of “buts” and grow some more balls. I still want to feel the surge of adrenaline when taking risks, I want to see another day, another year, another decade. I don’t want to be eaten by a recurring, predictable anxiety. I want to fight and get over of all the unhappiness (maybe not “all” because that wouldn’t be normal, maybe just figuratively all, but not literally, haha fuck all the explaining). I want to type haha’s and really mean them especially when I have them capslocked, I want to binge eat not out of stress, I want to gain a lot of weight but still keep fit. I want to finish the list of books that I have, I want to fill my journal with art and words, I want to volunteer. I want to have friends, again. Assuming I lost everyone I left behind.

I want to be inside the arms of people who would understand my confusion, impulsions, anxiety and those who would calm me down. I want to be who I long wanted to be, the really happy soul. I no longer want a facade of smiles. I want these racing thoughts to find themselves a lesser pace.

I want to find peace in chaos and purpose in uncertainties. I no longer want to answer the questions I shouldn’t be even asking or thinking about. I want to stop worrying of things I need not dwell upon.

I want to stand and conquer this or may I at least live with it, and learn to manage it.

I want to come out of this alive, and loving.

It won’t be the same when I come back, will it?

I don’t know what else to feel. It’s quicksand and I can’t get out. A sinkhole uncertain of a bottom. Consuming, yet I knowingly let it eat me from the inside out. Always recurring, and I have no idea how else i’d pacify myself.

It’s torture. I want to cry but like a well too dried out, I can’t. Debilitating. Ruining. A loophole of hurt and fear. I want to get out alive. But it seems like I just can’t help myself anymore. Had long been giving it “a day” or so, and yes I am even impressed i’m being this far. I hope of going further, but I hope I need not lose ties anymore. It’s as painful as it is to them.

I care. I remember. It hurts me too. Goodbyes aren’t as easy as it seems to the ones left behind. It was wrong. Going away without even telling. But leaving my friends that way makes it clear that if ever i’d be back, I just can’t crash into everyone’s life again and act as if nothing’s changed. Truth is, if ever I’d come back, I wouldn’t be the same person, and so would you, anyway change happens even with me around, though the fleeing just makes any change more apparent.

It can’t be any more sadder than seeing an old friend look past you as if you two never had memories together. Also disappearing as if you never cared. But I do. It’s just that, if I did what you expected me to do, it would have hurt more, and I can’t afford to bear more hurting. The decision was hard for me and the act of disappearing costed me a lot more courage and emotions than I anticipated. I didn’t say my parting words because I don’t intend to come back any sooner into your lives, my dear friends.

Hate me. I want you to hate me. Going away is easier to bear when you know you don’t have anyone back there waiting for you. Hate me for all the suddenness . Hate me as you should have long ago. Hate me as I just so hate this disorder that cripples me. It’s ruining me and I’m letting it. I don’t know where to start anymore. I have to fix myself before I go diving into people’s life again and ruining expectations of me. I’m burning bridges because I don’t want people to know how I’m just into so much suffering right now. How messed I am. I want them to just think that I simply disappeared and never came back. I don’t want them to know the pain i’m going through. That all the kindness, laughters, every light of happiness I ever gave was all just a lie.

That I cannot afford to feel and look sad in front of people. That I want everyone to be happy when I’m around, because I damn know how it feels to be really sad. I know how it feels to be enveloped in such darkness, that whenever you see a ray of light, you try to keep it cupped inside your hands, though you know it’s impossible. You want to shine of love and hope, because you know well of the lack of it.

There’s always a battle inside me, and it’s getting worse. But I want to get through this. I hope I would.

The Price of Enough Happine$$

In a town named Bristow, is a Store owned by Mr. Ross. This Store is known for it is the only Store in the World that has a section with all the products made by Enough Industries.

Enough Industries is a well known company for they make the finest, the most advanced products one would ever need. But most of all, it is famous because it caters to the taste and (stupid) needs of everyone’s vanity. But it’s not an evil industry altogether.

And so, people around the World, goes to Bristow just to buy the latest Enough products. The products that lasts for a month after application.

One sunny day, Gavin, the grandson of Mr. Ross decided to go to the Store.

“Gramps, can you help me? I don’t know what I want for myself…”

Mr. Ross smiled kindly to the seemingly troubled tyke and patted his head.

“Okay Gavin, tell me. What is it that something you need at the moment?”

Gavin thought for a while, looked around the Store and thinking hard as he clutched his grandfather’s hand, not wanting to astray through the crowd.

He lit up, looked up to his old man and replied,

“I have almost everything I need grandpa, that’s why I don’t know what else to want…”

“You are very young to be having a dilemma like this…” Mr. Ross was hinting a laugh for he did not expect a conversation like this from a child.

” You must realize Gavin that you are very blessed then. Imagine. You don’t really need to actually buy anything from the Store because you said you have everything you need.”

The little boy nodded, but his face still looked troubled with thoughts. Mr. Ross then stopped walking and studied the seemingly confused child.

“Well, little one. Think of something you’re interested in and maybe we can start from there.”

Then again, Gavin indulged himself in his world of ideas and searched for that “something interesting”.

“Well Gramps, I’m curious. What’s the most expensive thing in the Store?”

“Why my boy, are you planning to have me buy you that?”

“Will you?”

“No. Of course not Gavin.” Mr. Ross was laughing now. The kind of laugh you do when you’re feeding on innocent straightforwardness.

“Why not Gramps?” Gavin asked. Inside his head he’s actually afraid that his grandfather would say that he can’t afford it.

“Because Gavin, not because you want something for yourself, you get it. Most of the time, you have to ask yourself if you deserve it, or for the least need it.” And as Mr. Ross was saying this, he brought the child to the most brightly lit section of the Store.

Enough Industries Section.

Gavin has heard of Enough Industries from the television, even seen boxes of its products on his parents’ room.

Children are not allowed on this Section of the Store but Mr. Ross owns the Store so he let the child wander around. Gavin saw that most of the products sold here were not “actual” things. He remembered passing by a shelf full of boxes labeled Enough Beauty, Enough Patience, Enough Love, Enough Hate, Enough Tears, Enough Sadness. He went to Mr. Ross and asked,

“Gramps, of all these, which is the most expensive?”

Taking his cue, Mr. Ross led Gavin to the farthest shelf and pointed. Then Gavin saw it.


There were boxes lined up against the wall but it seemed like only a few had been grabbing it and Gavin asked why.

“You see my child, Enough Happiness is the most expensive thing in the World and only a few could afford it. It’s the only Enough product that lasts for five years after opening, with no expiration date if kept sealed. And no, I’m not going to buy you one Gavin, save up and who knows, someday you’ll be able to afford it yourself one day.”

“Okay Gramps i’ll save up, when i’m a grown man like you I’ll have a box of that most expensive thing in the World!” And never had Gavin felt more excited. Delighted.


Gavin grew up to be a fine man. Studied overseas and worked while studying for his degree. Basically tried to make a life of his own, even stripped himself of the privileges and luxury of his name. He wanted to succeed without being in the shadow of his blood’s aristocracy. And he did.

Now proved himself worthy of life’s laden blessings that he then came back to embrace the wealth that was rightfully his, he came back to his family because now he knows that he deserves and actually knew what to do with his inheritance.

Having proved to himself and his family of his worthiness, he came back to Bristow to acquire that box of Enough Happiness.


“I have been waiting for you Gavin.” Mr. Ross hugged his grandson, whom he waited for so long.

“I know Gramps, and you know why i’m here”, Gavin was grinning like a child who got a star stamped on his test paper.

“Do not waste your time buying that box of Enough Happiness my child.”

“What do you mean Gramps? I don’t understand.”

“Well Gavin, the Enough Industries stopped manufacturing Enough Happiness years ago. The thing used to cost a million Money and a million Smiles (Smiles is the second currency in this World). But then Enough Industries decided to stop selling it for a reason. You see, not everyone could outright afford Enough Happiness and sales were a bit hit and miss.

As it was nearing the end of production, its price hiked crazily. Maybe it was a marketing strategy too, because when word came that it will no longer be available after it’s last production, people wanted it suddenly, again.

Truth is, there had been less demands of Enough Happiness when people suddenly crazed over Enough Beauty, Enough Love, and Enough Sex.

And on the last production of Enough Happiness, every box was put into bid before it was sold.

And for years now, people had been bidding over that last box of Enough Happiness in our Store. And I’m saying that you don’t really have to waste your time bidding on that box, because honestly, you could outbid them all at one bet….”

Mr. Ross trailed off and looked at Gavin, amused by his perplexity.

“So Gramps, are you saying that I don’t have to waste my time bidding on that last box because… because you have a box kept for me somewhere?” he was excited, pupils dilating with every word.

The old man bursted with a bit of laugh, eyes crinkling with fondness for his grandson.

“No Gavin. I haven’t bought any Enough product for myself ever. I believe I have found contentment with just being blessed with having everything I need, just a reach away. Or maybe I’m just being the old man, who didn’t find any amusement with indulgences wrapped in boxes.

I believe Enough Industries pulled out their most expensive product from the market because it’s being overrated.

Some people had become too deluded, believing that something worth so much is actually what they need.

Plus it’s now worth too much Money and Smiles. Will you actually give up everything for a box of overpriced Happiness? Enough Industries was discreetly teaching us a lesson.”

Gavin listened intently. Never missing a word, never even blinking. But he had already made up his mind.

“But Gramps, Enough Happiness was the first reason why I aimed for who I am at the moment.

And I believe I deserve Enough Happiness now, I have proved myself worthy for it. I want it Gramps. Though yes I may not need it at the moment but I know someday I’ll do. I’m just a bid away form that something I wanted my whole life.”

“Well then…” Mr. Ross handed Gavin a paper and puts his finger to his lips to gesture a hush.

Gavin almost ran to the Store after their conversation. He was smiling, excited.


He went to the Enough Industries Section and saw it. The last box of Enough Happiness. People had been so busy bidding on that piece of box like vultures preying on a sole carcass in the desert. Everyone wants that box for themselves. It’s the last box of Enough Happiness,

Of course, anyone, everyone deserves a box of Enough Happiness but there isn’t enough Enough Happiness.

‘How ironic’, though Gavin.

He was itching to raise his hand and name his price, knowing he could outbid everyone.

But he did not. He walked away from it and instead tried to find that real thing he wanted to buy all his life. And then he found it.

On a dusty shelf he found it. He stared at it. And looked around.

It was on a section with not much crowd but people come by every now and then. It didn’t seem like it was a hit product but sold alright. The thing was underrated by no means, but still he went to get a pack of it.

Gavin held the pack proudly and lined waiting for his turn.

Inside his head he was replaying his grandfather’s words to him before he left the house. The old Mr. Ross had said,

“People had been bidding for that lone box for so long now. Wanting Enough Happiness at a price so high, they would even bet their life on it if given the chance. They’ve been consumed with the thought that Enough Happiness can only be acquired with a huge amount of Money and Smiles. But on this paper Gavin, you now will know, that as people had been fighting over a lone box…

… there is a long dusty shelf with Enough Happiness for everyone, though now only under the Enough Industries secret label – Satisfaction.”

Gavin reached the cashier and though he hasn’t even opened or paid for the package yet, he felt unusually complete.

“Sir that would be 10M10S”

The Things We Never Had

The frustration, the what ifs and what could have been’s. The regret. The best you never had.

We all come to a point that we think and look back on the things we could have had but we never did. Things that were once within your reach but you never got.

A chance of a lifetime, lost to a regret of forever.

A missed opportunity of perpetuality or redemption. A misfire of luck and most of all the risk you didn’t take.

For the things you never did, and the words you never said, you look back and there is that feeling of vexation, but then all you can do now is look back and learn from it. You may have lost it, but you got something more. A lesson of truthfulness, and bravery and letting go. That there is indeed more to life than brooding over a loss that was never yours. That it may not have been really the best you never had, because the best is yet ahead of you, if you’d put your mind to it.

Meant Goodbyes

Parting with someone is the hardest emotion I could think of. Saying your meant “goodbyes” with much sincerity because you are not sure if you’ll cross paths again.

It is hardest to say goodbye to someone you have had emotionally invested in. Deciding to leave was never an easy task, it cuts both ways.

I know how hard it is to say goodbye to people who matter, knowing that they believe or think that you’re just probably saying, “see you again”.

Yet you mean your goodbyes; and when you’re finally gone they realize that the last time they saw you you never really meant to stay, or be back again.

That is why I think I’d rather not say goodbye to everyone. Let them maybe just hate me for fading out. Hate is a lot easier to remember than sadness, than hopeful coming backs.

Manong, Kamias lang.

I paid my fare. Too wary of my surroundings, fearing that anytime someone will declare a hold up. I was uneasy. “I should have not ridden this bus”, I was scolding myself loudly inside my head.

I was on a hurry getting home when rain poured and as if luck wasn’t on my side that day, my umbrella turned skeleton at one blast of the wind. Helpless, I waited for the rain to halt or thin at the least, inside a building’s balcony. But almost an hour passed and still the pour just wasn’t sparing sunshine even a bit of hiccup. And have I mentioned that I am one impatient girl. It’s my OCD, I tend to be impulsive and impatient with whatever’s ruining my schedule, and for that afternoon, I scheduled myself to get home early, not wanting to meddle with Friday’s rush hour. Not saying that time’s of the essence for me, I just have this obssession that when my schedule didn’t start out at the exact time I planned it, everything from then on would go wrong.

The rain was clearly not accounted in my schedule, not even expected a pour that hard. So out of my being impulsive I braved the rain with my now ruined, lopsided umbrella and crossed the street to wait for a bus. It took a while before I saw a bus to my destination, so I waved it to a stop.

And then I wished I didn’t wave at it. It was an ordinary bus (the one deprived of AC) and through my travelling experiences I was not really a fan of ordinary fare buses. Let’s just say that the media, instilled this fear in me, seeing one, makes me think of bus hold ups, criminals waiting to prey on you, even maniacs.

And I knew the moment I stepped in, I would regret it. When I had board the bus, i looked for a “safe” seat, that would have been beside a window, near the driver and with no one else seated beside me. And thankfully I found one. I sat cautiously, eyeing everyone imprinting their faces in my mind. You know, just in case, wouldn’t hurt to be vigilant.

After a few stops someone came to seat beside me, I was startled and very awkward that I was even in hesitation to move my bag out of the seat.

Then came the conductor handing out tickets. I then told him that I’d get off at Kamias near the bus terminal. The guy beside me was getting off, three stops later than me. I handed the conductor my fare, but unfortunately he was short of coins for my change so he gave me a five peso coin, and asked me for a peso in return. I panicked. I didn’t have any coin with me. Yes. All I had were bills and this five peso coin he gave me. So I asked the guy beside me if he had a change of coins for my five peso, unfortunately he didn’t have any.

I was ready to give up the five peso back to the ticket guy because I knew five peso is just a small amount for me to lose and it didn’t matter really if he’d have it instead, like a tip or something like that. Then all of a sudden the guy beside me looked at me and offered, “Ito, ibigay mo na lang tong piso ko sa kanya.” (“Here, take this peso and hand it over to the guy”). I was lost for a moment. I was happy, even astonished by such gesture from a stranger. Then I said my heartfelt thanks to him.

I handed the peso from the stranger to the conductor. And I felt really humbled.

He was a stranger to me, and so I was to him. But he never hesitated to help out, unlike me who even hesitated to give him the seat beside me. I was damn too paranoid and proud, but that one moment really got my feet back planted to the ground. His kindess was so humbling I felt ashamed of my paranoia.

If only everyone would be so good and be kind for a moment to their fellow strangers, the world would somehow feel like a bit of a safe place too.


Have you ever felt so thankful with every person who came into your life, some may have hurt you or you my have hurt too, some are fleeting, some temporary and some who stood with you through the hardest times.

And yes, not everyone managed to stay, but it’s fine because anyway we’ll all drift away in one way or another someday.

But even though there maybe those who parted ways and those who stayed, you are thankful because, just the thought that they, maybe once or twice at the least, shared on a ride with you through your rollercoaster life.

They touched a part of your life in a way they never knew or maybe you’re not even aware until now. They have shared a part of themselves to you and so did you.

And you are thankful, so thankful… for the sole reason that they came.

Musings from The Croods

Nobody said surviving was fun.

What if suddenly that place you used to feel safe with was gone? Where would you go? Of course you’d feel a pang of anxiety, but then out of fear you’ll then see yourself heading to a place, that never in the first place you wanted to go. And you’re there now, then you try to survive, learning ropes, trying things, having new experiences. You try to keep yourself together but time comes that you actually lose track of where you’ve left pieces of yourself, so you just keep moving forward and just try to get out, but then somehow you get the pieces of yourself back together, but they just don’t fit the same way as before.

Time comes that you want to retreat again to a cave of fear but then you decide to follow the light and grab that chance. To leap on that big space of uncertainty. But then you are too scared, knowing that somehow, something would definitely get left behind. But you go on. And that moment you feel the loss, you realized that it might not be lost, after all. Maybe it was just changed and all you needed was to accept that this life you are living now isn’t like as before but you need not be scared because all you needed to cope up was a little getting used to.

Lola Saling

July 24, 2AM

I called home. “Dad, totoo ba?” (Dad, is it true?). I recieved a message from my relative that Lola Saling has passed away. My father confirmed it. I held my tears and sobs back until I ended the call.


When I was younger, I used to sleep beside my grandmother. I can vividly remember the times when I can’t seem to not get sleepy whenver i’m not holding my grandmother’s hand. So yes, I grew up sleeping holding hands with my grandmother. Though I cannot remember why and when it started but I’m quite sure of the time I stopped holding hands with her to sleep.

I was growing up and had my growing up issues ( I was grade 5 then), and not holding her hand to sleep satiated my craving for a bit of freedom and that feeling of “im-growing-up-i -can-handle-myself”. Thouhg at highschool we still slept on the same bed together, though at times I’d retreat to my own room and try to pretend growing up.

College came and I learned to retreat to my own room now or sometimes sleep in the extra bed in my parent’s room. I stopped sleeping beside her because she hated lots of pillows while I literally loved a lot around me. Plus at times she complained about the fan, and her room was really humid, I just can’t stand too much sweat to sleep.


I used to be the usual companion of Lola Saling whenever she’d attend early mass every Sunday. And just every Sunday, is the time that she goes to the wet market. Oh how I hated the wet market by then.

Or maybe I just hated the part where she meets up with her friends then her friends would exclaim how boyish I look and act, as if I wasn’t there. I wasn’t too chic back then not a bit. But she loved me anyway, I was obviously the favorite. She’d bake for my birthdays, cook and everything! I loved her too. Like really love her too.

I grew up, she grew old. I distanced, but she never waivered her love for me, she never changed, I was always the sweet little child in her eyes.


I felt it when she had her time nearing. She had let me cut her nails with which she didn’t want anyone to touch for months. It was the same thing my mom had me done a day before she died. It was an obvious hunch, but I didn’t tell anyone.

I faked the smiles and laughters because I knew it could be the last.I made her smile, and laugh, cooked for her, served her, bathed her, I did everything I could, though there was someone else tasked to tend to her. I wanted her to feel and know I was there, that I had been there for her too.

She died almost a week after that. She died peacefully in her sleep.

She knows how much I love her. And I do know how much more she loved me back.

I will miss the
chocolate mousse,
homemade- ham,
rind candies,
sampaloc candies,
wet market trips,
“ineng, ang ganda mo”,
singing before going to sleep,
stories of tikbalangs, aswangs, mystics,

and most of all,

your hand and arms, making me feel safe as I fall asleep.

Holding Hands

I always catch a jolt, whenever someone holds my hand. It’s as if I am allowing someone to take over my safety and comfort, giving someone a chance to invade a bit of my personal space. But everytime I do, it’s always of a different feel.

There were times that it made me feel secure. There were once that felt wrong, but I kept holding his hand, because I knew he wouldn’t want me to let go. And one time even felt very casual.

Maybe, the way I felt over those times reflect how I see the other person, how I felt for the person fitting hands with mine.

But one thing, I learned? Whoever’s hand would fit yours perfectly.

And the only thing that makes a difference, is how you feel for the other person.

That Kairos Moment

Have you ever had a kairos moment? It’s a moment where you tell yourself and believe that a certain person is going to have a special part in your life. That they are a memory to keep, a friendship to fuel up your life later on, or maybe a special person you’d swear to live with until old age.

It’s a supreme moment. That telling moment. It’s like a hunch. A hunch telling you about who would stay with you, who you’d like to be with, a moment telling you about who is likely to have a share of a bit of forever with you.

But a kairos moment isn’t always one with having a happy ending. There maybe a telling moment, but the forever part isn’t guaranteed. It’s only a telling moment, a moment of sureness about yourself, of how you’d be so happy to be with the person. And the forever part could only get real by how you respond to that kairos moment. Will you actually befriend the person? Or tell him/her how special he/she is? Will you actually try to get to know the person more? And most of all, will the other person actually let you in into their lives?

Even if people get actually close to that person they’ve had a kairos moment with, forever isn’t still guaranteed because time tests friendships, even relationships.

So if you ever had that kairos moment, be it an anonymous person or someone you actully know, don’t hesitate to grab the opportunity to actually get a shot of forever. Who knows? You actually could have had that telling moment right.

A Dream

we’ll roll in the sand like chicken being coated in crumbs
have a bottle of tequila in my left hand
we’ll look up and just gaze at the stars
got your hand in the other, but i’ll let go
because we’ll dig fast, because puking
sealing it after, like a secrret no one would want to know
then we’ll move to another spot, fast

And repeat.

Do you know how hard it is to live with OCD?

 It’s hard. Haha. Knowing you can totally live normally then one moment the compulsions come crashing again, ruining that moment of your life. You run away from things because of fear. Fear is like cancer. Consuming you from the inside without you knowing. I don’t know when and how it all started or how I got it. All I am certain is that OCD is the fear of chaos. No matter how I think of how this disorder got me I just can’t point the root of it all. Maybe I. just won’t find it. And there is left to do is face and confront the fear and not run away from anxiety. Management maybe. I need how to learn and manage the fears.

I have to accept the fact that living this Life is a real chaos and that I need to deal with it. I have to stop moving around when fear takes me in, because no matter how I move, I’m just not going anywhere. Yes someday I will stop moving and I’d stand to face that something I fear. I need to rise above this OCD someday. 

That huge ego. Ha.

Testing you even mocking and proud I said, “I’ll stare at you until you get fidgety and awkward”. But I undermined you because you kept eating while saying, “Oh no, I can just ignore your stare you know, I believe you know better of being stared at…” I smirked and even did that sly smile. Then you said, “I was once told that one should never stare or do a full glare at beautiful women” 

“Why?” I asked.

“Because it feeds their ego. That’s why I am no way gonna stare at you”

From that moment on, I should have distanced myself. You were so full of yourself you can’t afford to feed someone else’s petty vanity. 

Too vain of you. Too vain.

Stuck at Life’s Traffic

Not sure if im even moving any inch. It’s like im being an illegally parked vehicle that was towed. Moving but not really going anywhere I need to go, not anywhere near where I need to be.

Im like a free floating paper boat, soon to sink if not saved. Im being sucked in a blackhole of sadness and I can’t resist. I don’t even know the root of it all, I lost track. All I know is I am somehow stuck and not being productive. A lot more stagnant than the water in drum kept hidden for years.

Not blinking, breathing, lost. Unkempt thoughts,I don’t know where else to hold on, what else to grab to not be eaten away by that sinkhole. Having feelings, wanting to still hold on and a lot of urges to let go and end it all. It’s hard.

Everyday I am debating with the part of me that wants to go on, to see tomorrow, to dream again, when a quarter of me wants to finally let go and be gone forever or at the least runaway again from people who matter.

It’s hard to keep balanced, hard to even keep myself together in front of people. I’m trying hard to brave the uncertainties of everyday. Just trying to survive day to day.

My complicated religion.

The last time I checked I am a Catholic. For my family I am, for the community I am. But I think I know better than be confined in beliefs, practices or whatever, sure I can do the sign of the cross, go to masses, take the communion or even confess my sins to a priest. But I do those things to take part in a society I want to belong in. And most will think that im bragging and even too proud of my fraud or pretension of being Catholic, but I do this because i believe in the greater purpose of sharing a belief with people. Only that I think I am not restrained by the confining biases and discrimination most people were taught growing up. In some point in our life we were once told that someone that’s not of the same religion will not be saved etc.They say these maybe because they stopped looking for answers for the questions they never asked.

Once I stopped going to mass, because I felt a disbelief and I began to question my religion. And only when i started going backthat I realized what it really meant for me. I joined the Church choir, so I’d find my greater purpose in my being Catholic. I enjoyed the service I rendered for the Catholic community but I didn’t found my purpose, instead I understood what my being Catholic really meant for me.

They didn’t know that Catholics, Born Again Christians, Muslims and other set of religious sects, share a common ground, faith in humanity. Faith in humanity or simply belief in the goodness of people.

How do I say so, let’s try to take a step back and try to look broadly. Be it Allah, Jesus, God or whoever they want to call their Greater Being is the one of which is rooted to favor goodness instead of evil. Even atheists and agnostics! That though they do not declare a belief in that Greater Being, they believe that it is just our ownselves who should dictate what to do with our lives and not be dictated and confined in such repetitive norms and that, though they may not believe in that Someone-Above-All-Else they aim for the lesser evil, of which every religion aim for.

So who are we to discriminate people who do not share our “religious label”, why can’t we just leave the “labeling” and aim for the common good?

I hope that instead of presto judgment, let’s know better and respect other people’s belief and hope that we all continue to believe in the goodness of people and further strengthen that  FAITH IN HUMANITY.

So what can my religion be now? Let me just keep it to myself.

Of the fittest.

It is only when you’ve felt the need to regret no more, face whatever happened and totally accept what has passed is the time you say to yourself that you have moved on or specifically done moving on.

Such credence is what we all face everyday. It’s the challenge to mentally accept things fast and do something other than being stagnant. It’s not the process of acceptance that’s hard, it’s actually the part where you decide where to go from there. Delving into the thought that you have to go somewhere, be it with the current or totally against it is how one can survive this Jungle of Life.

You adapt or you die.

The concept of beauty.

Oh how people love what their eyes can see. They use their eyes too much they get blinded by what’s merely physical. I believe that beauty isn’t all physical, it’s not just all about the surface everyone sees. I believe beauty is a complex of people’s level of appreciation, how they try to look at something and put value on what’s beyond visual.

Beauty is a matter of perspective. It’s not the same for everyone, that is why I really just don’t get the point of comparison and standards. We are all beautiful. We just have to appreciate and work on what we have. Let’s not be deceived by the standards imposed by the society.

We are beautiful in our own way, don’t let people get into your soul judging your worth by the physical person they see. You are more, much more than what they perceive. Don’t let them make you believe that you are less than any other person just because of the ‘imperfections’ they say you’ve got.

Your worth is far beyond the aesthetics, just so you know.


Hi mommy.

Eto nanaman ako di ka ba nagsasawa sa kin? Wag ha. Sa March 6 medyo tatlong taon ka na dyan. Masakit pa rin pala? O siguro nagsabay sabay lang talaga ngayong February tapos bigla bigla e March na, nabitin ako sa Pebrero.

Hindi ko alam nanaman ako ang dapat kong maramdaman, paparating nanaman yung araw na maaalala ko ulit yung araw na nawala ka na lang agad agad. Pero kesa naman nahihirapan ka dito, okay na rin siguro nga. At alam mo yan, hindi ako magmamature kung di ka nauna. Siguro ang brat at spoiled little girl pa rin ako. Pero kita mo naman, hindi na ko little girl, (siguro little boobs lang hehe, bakit di mo pinamana saken mommy yang ano mo HAHAHAHAHA DEH JOKE) alam mo yan, alam na alam mko bawat nangyayari saken, mas alam mo lahat kesa kay daddy. Kahit isang hug lang mommy oh! Dalawin mo naman si Daddy kahit sa panaginip lang, lagi kang namimiss non. 🙂 Alam ko pong kung ako nahihirapan na sa lagay kong to, ano pa kaya so Daddy, at sigurado akong yan ang mga sasabihin mo sakin sa mga pagiinarte ko. :)) Pero alam ko ding di mo sasabihin saking nagiinarte ako kasi maiintindihan mo ko, kahit na minsan lang ako magkwento sayo, kasi alam kong alam mo naman kapag may bumabagabag sakin. Nakakapagbagabag.

Miss ko na mommy yung mga chinita mong mga tingin. Yung tititig ka lang, kahit na mukha kang nakapikit, iba iba yung meaning. Masaya, galit, nagtatanong, umuunawa, nagmamahal. Love you mommy. Sorry sa disappointments mo saken. I love you Mommy. I miss you so much. Salamat sa oras mo sakin, huwag kang magsasawa please 🙂 Mwa.


PS. Balak ko nga pala magninja sa puntod mo before March 6. Anong gusto mong flower? Isa lang ha, estudyante pa ko, tsaka alam mo na…

Tired. Or maybe just PMS-ing.

Of what is coming. I don’t have any idea. I’m too tired being that sad little girl. Im tired of being sad, being little and being girl.

Wish it was easy to not be sad. Not really that sad-sad these days, but the kind of sad of which you don’t know why. Im tired of being little or maybe feeling little. These days I haven’t been much of a self esteemed person I usually am, because someone or maybe i did let someone sweep away all that prized confidence I have. Gaaaahd or maybe I yet just have to be comfortable with this new hair HAHAHAHHAAHHA! Hastag, haircut anxiety. Im toot ired of being a girl, because, because…. dysmennorhea, enough said. I can’t really enjoy this week getawat because of this.

HAHA HOW I WISH IT WAS EASY TO BE JUST ANOTHER PERSON. But i guess I have to deal with being me at the moment. Oh not at the moment actually. Everyday.

I’ve gone on this secret getaway to rethink of myself. Of who I am really. I thought Iw as done with this after my awesome Philo class which I almost had a perfect score every exam. Ha. But then I realized I have not been really too serious thinking about how to answer this question.

I feel like im am getting too impatient waiting for whatever that is Life has in store for me. Maybe this sadness isn’t all about that pilot and the screw ups we had. Maybe this is also about how I miss my mom’s guidance, presence and love. She was gone too soon, or i was just too late to be the girl my mom wanted to have, the daughter whom she’d pick dresses with, would try and put make up on, someone she’d advice about guys. Was I too late to be so chic Mom, is that what you wanted me to be? I do believe that you still love me evn though I did dress sloppily, I was always on tshirt and jeans, I did not want to gonna have mani-pedis with you thank you. you always stir me a cup of coffee whenever I used to study at home, you always embrace me and say hey, don’t rush yourself. You always smile and give me extra allowance, you do not blame me for my financial irresponsibilities, you just always remind me, you never scold me. And you always just hug me whenever words can’t be enough for comfort. I always wish to see you again. 😦 I always look for somebody looking like you, i want to see you again and hug you and say that I love and miss you so much. I always wish I’d have a mom again and I wish she’d still be you.

Iw ish you are here to hear these relationshit sentiments I have, I know you’d understand. I know you’ll have the comforting words and a warm hug, plus you’ll have that hot coffee mug with you and you’d offer me. On March 6, you’ll be three years there. I still wish though that you never left or that you never got sick.

Yes maybe i should play my cards without you in it. Maybe it’s okay to miss you but i should not always depend on you or even blame you for this sadness. maybe it’s just me not knowing what to do with my life, maybe it’s all just me. Yeah and i have to play with my cards.

Wish me luck because I don’t know the rules and i might just abandon these if I’d be really impatient.

Guide me.

It hurts so bad

I try to make everyhing go away, trying not to remember you or what could have been of us.

It is wrong but there really is a part of me that’s secretly wishing you’d choose me. I hate you. Fuck you. I hate how you come to make me feel haste and feel wasted. I hate you. I still waste my time trying not to cry, holding back these feelings because I don’t wanna break down.

I don’t even care how I look these days, it hurts so bad I had to cut my hair.

I saw this old draft and it kinda made me smile, wondering if it would have made any difference if I did tag you in this note.

Na feel mo lang na buksan ang Microsoft Word mo at magtype ng kung ano ano habang nakikinig sa iTunes playlist mo na puro songs ng paborito mong Parokya ni Edgar. Hanggang sa nag emo moments ka na sa terrace nyo pero tuloy ka pa rin sa pagta-type sa laptop mo na hindi mo sigurado kung ano ba ang kalalabasan ng sinusulat mo. Di binabasa kung okay ba, basta go lang go, bahala na, basta type lang ng type. Hanggang napatigil ka kasi wala ka nang masulat at eto nga, pati yon ay itina-type mo na rin. Tumigil muli, pero ngayon ay kumuha na ng unan para upuan, dahil masakit na sa pwet ang matigas na kahoy ng iyong paboritong upuan. Ngayon ay wala nang tigil ang pagta-type, hindi dahil may naisip ka na, ngunit dahil nafe-feel mo lang, lam mo naman feelingera ka. Hahaha! At ngayon napapangiti ka kasi kinakausap mo na sarili mo at bigla mong naisip ang nakaraan…

… naglalakad kayo noon, tahimik lang kayong magkasabay, hanggang kinuha nya ang kamay mo at hinigit ka sa isawan para ilibre. On the height of euphoria ka pa dahil lang sa moment na yun na paghawak nya sa kamay mo, at parang gusto mo na lang ngumiti maghapon, hanggang binasag nya ang moment mo sa pagpuna sa ngiti mong tipong hanggang tenga. Pademure naman at hindi na ngumiti pero deep inside—‘shit, di ko mapigilan kinikilig talaga ako’. Kain ka ng kain dahil libre nya, o diba, mas masarap paglibre, di mo na pera, kasama mo pa sya. Tapos na kayo mag-isaw tripping at akala mo tapos na ang hook up niyo para sa araw na yon, hanggang sinabi niya, “ui, san ka na?”, ikaw naman walang pa keme na sumagot “di pa ko uuwi, tatambay pa ko sa may hagdanan”, at di mo inaasahan na sasabihin niya, “talaga sige, tara, tinatamad pa ko umuwi”. At tumambay nga kayo doon, pinaguusapan ang kung ano-anong bagay, tawa lang kayo nang tawa, parang ayaw mo na tuloy umuwi at nasabi sa sarili, ‘sana ganito na lang lagi’… pinapauwi na kayo ng guard dahil gabi na syempre pasaway kayo kaya halos nakailang balik na ang guard para palalahanan kayo dahil ayaw nyo itigil ang walang katapusan nyong kwentuhan at reminiscin’, kung hindi pa tumunog ang cellphone mo dahil sa text ng daddy mo na umuwi na ay di pa kayo tatayo. Hanggang sa daan magkasabay kayo, dala-dala nya ang ilang libro mo ngunit hindi pa rin tumitigil sa gabi gabi nyong kulitan sa daan, hanggang dumating na kayo sa kanto. Tatawid na, lumapit sya sa kabilang panig at hinigit ka para sabihing, “O ayan tawid na!” dahil alam nya na di ka talaga sanay tumawid na kahit sa tapat lang school niyo ay talgang itatawid ka pa niya para lang masigurado na ok ka… hanggang sa sakayan, tawa pa rin kayo ng tawa wala na talaga ata katapusan ang lahat ng kwento nyo, na kahit paulit ulit ay walang sawa pa ring inuungkat. Sumakay ka na sa tricycle at nagpaalam na rin sya, ngunit mga ilang hakbang pa lang ata niya ay nagvibrate ang cellphone mo sa text niya na :

“Ingat pauwi! See you tom…ü”
Para kang tanga ngayon, napapangiti ng dahil lang don sa alaala na yon. How stupid. Hahaha! Hanggang sa may naalala ka pa uli:

(Graduation Ball) Pumunta sya sa table niyo para yayain kang sumayaw, hindi mo na alam ang gagawin dahil kinikilig ka na talaga, na kunwari di mo pa alam na papunta na sya sa table niyo, if I know, inaantay mo na ang paglapit niya galing sa kabilang panig. Tumayo ka na at kinuha nya kamay mo, nang tumigil na kayo sa may unahan at inilagay na nya ang kamay niya sa may hips mo at di mo lam kung ma-aawkward ka ba o yayakapin mo sya… hahaha! Yakap raw oh. Nilagay mo na ang kamay mo sa balikat nya at nagsimula na kayong sumayaw sa kanta na nagkataong paborito mo. At hindi mo alam ang sasabihin sa kanya sa mga oras na yon na kung ano ang dami ng pinagkukwentuhan niyo palagi ay parang nawala lahat at wala kang masabi sa kanya, puro ngiti at pailan ilan na sagot sa mga tanong nya. Bakit ba kung kelan dapat marami kayong pinaguusapan ay wala kang masabi? Siguro dahil ang gwapo nya ngayon, oo siguro nga. Natapos na ang tugtog at ikaw na ang nagyaya na umupong muli, HINDI dahil nilalamig ka na sa maikli mong dress o dahil masakit na paa mo, o dahil tapos na ang paborito mong tugtog… gusto mo na bumalik sa table kasi nangangatog ka na sa kilig at saya, ang mga tuhod mo parang nanlalambot na jelly ace, nanlalamig na rin ang mga kamay mo at napansin nga niya…. ‘Nilalamig ka?’ at hinigpitan pa lalo niya ang pagkakahawak sa kamay mo. Waepek. Lalo ka lang nanlamig. Kung hindi lang eskandalosa ang pagkahimatay, nag-collapse ka na sana sa panahong yon.

Dumating ang graduation… nag-college ka, at matapos ang ilang buwan na walang komunikasyon, nakita mo sya. Walang mapaglagayan ang saya mo, ngunit di mo alam pano mo sya lalapitan. Hanggang napansin ka nya, at sya na mismo ang lumapit sayo. At nagsimula nanaman kayo magkwentuhan, hindi man tulad ng dati pero okay lang, masaya pa rin naman. Hanggang tumahimik kayo nakatingin lang pareho sa malayo. Napatingin ka sa kanya at napangiti, napatingin rin tuloy sya at ngumiti rin sayo. Dumaan ang ilang minuto at kuntento na kayo sa katahimikang pinapadaan. Simpleng presensya nya ay masaya ka na, at nasabi sa sarili na hindi naman kailangan ng mahabang kwentuhan at kulitan para mapangiti ka nya. May gusto ka sa kanya?At bigla mong naalala!

‘Ay kaibigan nga lang pala ako sa kanya. Hanggang dun lang, sana…

…at bigla na lang natigil ang emote mo sa terrace nyo nang tumugtog ang Summer Song, kasi hindi naman yon sa Parokya ni Edgar. Bakit nandon yon? Inayos ang playlist. At biglang sumagi sa isip na. ‘Summer na nga pala ngayon dapat natutulog ako ng maaga’ pero anong oras na? 12:18 am na, Akala ko ba balak mong mag jogging? Ano oras ka gigising 10 am? But no tuloy ka pa rin sa pagpindot sa keyboard. At ngayon, iniisip mo kung ipopost mo ba to o hindi, bubulukin mo lang ba sa portfolio folder mo o ipopost na sa blogsite at sa notes sa facebook? Pag pinost mo ba sa facebook, ita-tag mo ba sya? Hahaha! Bahala ka.

You’ll never know what a hug means ’til you get one.


Just the mention of the word hug and I’d feel smitten, but that can’t always be the case. Of course, hugs comes at many forms, well, not specifically forms but comes on different occasions and in those events, hugs can mean differently.

Hugs flood whenever you have victorious deeds. You get to receive an embrace from someone who feels proud of you; from someone who helped you reach that victory, and those who never falter to put their faith in you and trusted you all the way. In this moment of triumph, of real mind blowing elation, you get to embrace just almost everyone to share the joy and the feeling of intense exhilaration— and with that, euphoria gets too infectious that everyone who feels for your victory seems to get agitated too. But it is not always that one only gets to be cuddled in blissful instances; of course it could also come in times of defeat. And yes, it would be from the same set of people who believed in you, who trusted you and those who still feel the pride of having you at that episode— even though it happened that you did not meet their expectations. Hugs give you that feeling of being trusted of, most of the time it is about sympathy and the reality of being human—that despite the supposed flawlessness we sometimes anticipate, we still have the tendencies to err.

Hugs also make their way to person shedding tears—be it because of happiness or grief. Happiness is surely contagious and the urge of sharing the delightful feeling is unquestionably overwhelming and people just won’t miss out a hug to express their compassion. However in times that tears meant pain, torment of psyche and frustration, the people close to you always have the instinct to hold you close and though no words be muttered, just the mere act somehow heaves out the sense of being worn and vulnerable. They may not demand you words to explain yourself, but with no hesitation they cuddle you to let your emotions out and later ease out the throbbing in your chest and off guard you catch yourself shedding more tears. It is not the embracing-act that makes us swell our eyes by the relentless pour of tears but the implication that people who care for us makes sure that in times of these devastating sensations, you are made to feel that you are not alone and at this moment, it’s okay to cry.

From the earlier and the latter, we can sum up that hugs turn up in generally two sentiments: happiness and sadness, and therefore encompassing all other emotions under it. However, these two are not the only ones from where embraces are being given meaning; actually, a hug comes from two different people. First, are the people you know. People you know by name, face, stature, voice, hair, color, laugh and a lot more obvious traits we render as their personality impression. Sometimes they may be the simple acquaintance at a dinner, a friend you wave at everyday to say hello, a rival, a friend of another friend or the seatmate that you never actually knew the real name. Embraces from these people are actually sometimes, confusing, intriguing or even alleviating. Confusing and intriguing all the same, for sometimes, you don’t know what they really want from you or if they meant it. It is alleviating, in the sense that it may mean as a sign of reconciliation, new bound friendship or trust. But no matter what the hug means, you just get it and you get to understand later on.

And lastly, hugs come from the people who know you. Knows you not just by name, but by who you are, they are the persons whom you have entrusted your real self and who accepted you as you are and not by who they want you to be. An example is your family, or your closest friends, and different people whom you have faithfully given your real trust and acceptance to who they are too. Hugs from these people give us the real sense of love, acceptance, understanding and ardent sympathy. I think nothing can ever replace the feeling of being all secured, loved and sensing the thrill of having the jolt emotions when you unexpectedly receive an embrace from these people. That just even seconds spent in the depth of their arms, an impression of relief and security is felt, though not fully, but surely that is from where you gather your strength and inspiration.

        Yes, embraces can be given their own meanings, though sometimes what is written here may not be how you get to feel from one embrace. And it is only when you get one, that you realize your own interpretation of the hug. So why don’t we give out hugs? Besides, people don’t always get to express their feelings through instances, thus, you may never know that the person you’re holding inside your arms maybe, just maybe—BADLY needing it. 



Futile feelings

Some people are foolish enough to keep holding on to their futile feelings and not move on, to the point that they make themselves too crazy about the other person that they stunt their mental and emotional growth.

I mean, yes, it’s not wrong to love a person so bad you wanna get the moon for her/him, as like you want to prove you could give and be everything they need and want, but if time came that you have to break up, because maybe you two didn’t work out or you have issues, haven’t you thought that you are doing yourself a favor if you’d distance yourself from that recent ex?

Space out and grow. You don’t really have to hate him/her, you just need to rethink of yourself. Not think about how you could have saved it, but how you’d be better the next time. Yes there may have been things that you could have done to save the relationship but what if it was only you who wanted to save it? Don’t get yourself sunk and sucked in an unhealthy thought of regret and what could haves. Look around. Have you ever pushed yourself into that brink of your comfort zone? Because you know what in reality, there really would be people who will come and touch our lives, then hurt and leave us. And you can’t do anything about it, and all the choice you have then is to move on. Cry and grieve, be bitter!  But then acknowledge the reality that you can’t have everything you want. Acceptance is the greatest liberty of all. Reinvent yourself, and be positive about it, not that you want him/her to get back with you, do it for the fact that in this life, it’s either you get awesome or you get not-awesome.

There is a lot in store for you other than chasing a love that can never be yours. It can never yours because you deserve someone better and it’s definitely not your ex, or if it is eventually your ex, then make sure it’s that EX 2.0.

No, I don’t hate you.

It’s actually very liberating. I wanted you, you wanted me, but thing is we just can’t be. You have a girlfriend and NO, i don’t want to be the other woman. As much as I wanted something to become of us, I won’t push it if it would have to be like this.

It’s kinda upsetting but what can I do. I too cannot explain what was it with you that day and the days after that. I tried to ignore the unusual attraction for days but I was so curious I just had to let myself be lured. No I don’t blame the alcohol because it felt the same when we were sober. Truth is, I had been honest with my every word and action to you as if I had known you for so long I can’t deny that. I was really too comfortable being with you, to homey beside you.

And I just hate it when we did part, knowing that, that could be last time I’ll kiss you. And maybe, yes.



But yes, maybe we just had to pacify that tension between us, and I did enjoy being with you but it also hurts that I almost fell for you if I hadn’t guarded my heart.

And I do believe that I am wise enough to rise above the emotion and not hate you because I cannot deny the fact that I wanted it too.

I can say I’ve been a totally different person when we said goodbye, but hey, fix your life don’t screw uP. :*


Once I was asked by a friend that if given a chance to be a star, will I choose to be the ever present/visible night star or be a falling star?

I answered that I want to be the ever present star, because it’s always there, but she told me that I should aim to be like a shooting star, that though it falls off the sky, it leaves a trail behind and whoever sees it fall, the event’s always gonna be remembered.

Late conversations

One night I was planning to sleep early ’cause I wanted to jog around the lake for uhmm, well that’s not the story really.

I was about to sleep when a friend who recently lost his father chatted me and said.

Friend: Friend, why is it like that?
Me: What?
F: Things aren’t still sinking in on me.
Me: Why do you say so?
F: I feel like he’s still coming home any moment now…

Then things came rushing in on me again. Yes, I too had the same lag  when mom died. I felt like she’s gonna come home again and as if I were always waiting, but she never came.


But I believe it’s not anytime soon yet. But I know, it’ll come.

I miss you Mommy.

Of sketches and reality

When we were young we always drew the sun smiling,
People as sticks and balls
Hair sticking out and limbs all straight out
Always sketching that broad-trunked tree with fluffy leaves like clouds and no branches.

Then growing up you learned how to draw fortesses and castles,
guys in jeans and girls in dresses.

And here you are now realizing that the sun never smiled at you or that people are yes sticks and balls. It’s either you have sticks to beat them or the balls to try and compete with them.

That hair can never stick out like in your preschool drawings and the hair is too tedious to even try sketching, and that limbs are never that straight out.

And trees are not all that broad trunked and leaves were never as fluffy as the clouds and branches exist.

That fortresses and castles can only exist in your piece of art, unless you’re a Royal blood.  That gals wear jeans too, and guys can were dresses these days.

That everything you thought of when you were young isn’t what you thought it was. That you feel happy for the children who imagine things the way you did back then but also sad that now, you can’t really have your make-believe moments with fairydusts and glitters.

And when you see children having those moments, how you wish you can go back to that time when you had your own world, your own reality.

Not like this reality. A reality we all share.

The unexamined life is not worth living, said Socrates

To picture this out, let us liken life to a helicopter. A helicopter given to every human because presumably everyone was born to be a pilot.

An unexamined life is like a pilot with a helicopter. A mere helicopter left to rot and corrode. Staying at one place forever though maybe moved one day but definitely have not fulfilled its purpose which is to fly. On the other hand, an examined life is like a helicopter with fuel, a pilot with aviation education and a definite destination.

A helicopter with fuel (representing aspiration, dreams, drive, passion), and a pilot with aviation education (experience, learning process) needs a destination (goal), somewhere you want to be, because you can’t just fly on air forever because somehow there will come a time that fuel can run out and you need to have somewhere to land where you can refill your tank or maybe even buy a bigger, better flying machine.

And just like Socrates, John Green encourages us to live a life that isn’t useless, with a quote from An Abundance of Katherines that I read a few days ago,

“What is the point of being alive if you don’t at least try to do something remarkable? How very odd to believe God gave you life, and yet not think that life asks more of you than watching TV.”

Fixing your Bricked iPhone.

Ever heard of an iPhone brick? It’s an iPhone which is a legitimate brick at the moment. No function or anything, well useless maybe, unless you stack it with fellow bricks. The interruption of the OS update, errors in tweaking, faulty jailbreaking, and downgrading can turn your precious device to a pretty and one really costly brick.

The term “brick” is actually used to render a permanently inoperative electronic devices resulting from corruption of firmware or hardware. But it is also used to describe the time that the device is unable to function (but is actually recoverable later on).  Recoverable “bricked” devices are referred to as soft bricks; those with irreversible damage are referred to as hard bricks. iDevices are the most commonly soft bricked gadgets since most users want to maximize customization and use of their device, that they jailbreak and tweak their iPhones/iPads. And since Apple releases lots of updates of their firmware (OS), users can tend to brick their iPhones if they uncautiously update their jailbroken devices.

Unlocking carriers used to be one of the ways that you might brick your iPhone. We know that an iPhone is at its most use if it can switch to any carrier anywhere around the world, unlocking it is the way to do it. Unlocking carrier involves tricking the iOS’ SIM restriction function, this process is not really easy but bricking your iPhone by unlocking it is now at the least probability these days, unless you own an iPhone 2G and is planning to unlock it via outdated software.  But since January 26, 2013 the Library of Congress implemented that no third-party unlocking solutions are allowed. Meaning, unlocking your phone can be legally done only after your contract with your carrier. Ending your contract you can now then ask your carrier to unlock the handset for you. NEVER unlock it yourself or ask some unauthorized “unlockers” to do it for you, unless you want a shiny brick.

Well, if you happen to brick your iDevice here are the things that you should try doing:  a) Resetting, b) DFU or Recovery, c) Plugging it on a different desktop d) Apple Service Center.

a) Resetting.
Press and hold the home button and the on/off button (sleep wake) on top for at least 12-13 seconds or until the Apple logo appears.

b) Recovery mode or DFU mode Recovery/Restore mode has  a display that says “connect to iTunes”. Here are the the recovery/restore steps (from

1. Plug-in device to your computer and launch iTunes.

2.  Go to the left column corner and select your device. Click the restore button.

3. Wait for the downloading and installation of the firmware to finish. (iTunes will automatically download the appropriate firmware for your device as it detects which iDevice you are using.)

4.  When the installation is finished, you will be prompted if you want to restore your back up. Select yes, if you want to bring back your old settings and preferences.

5.  Sync your device to iTunes. Don’t worry about the process taking too long to finish as it is normal if you have enormous number of music and movies onboard.

6. After the synchronization with iTunes, check if your iPhone is now working normally.

If you cannot restore using iTunes and trying again doesn’t work for your brick then try the DFU (Device Firmware Update) mode. The DFU mode is different from the Recovery mode. DFU is a term familiar to those experienced with jailbreaking, IT IS NOT the same as recovery mode. DFU mode evades the current iOS and allows you to upgrade or downgrade. In DFU mode, display is blank and there is no screen backlight. If there is anything on your display then it is not in DFU mode.

Here are the steps to enter DFU mode (from

1. First, connect your iPhone to your computer and launch iTunes. (Mac or Windows will do)

2. Turn off your phone.

3. Press and hold the Power button+Home button simultaneously and release the power button at the 10th second. Don’t release the Home button. Continue holding it until you see a message in iTunes that an iPhone in recovery mode is connected. Your screen will go black (unlike the regular recovery mode). Don’t worry, it is normal. If the screen shows anything, it is not in DFU mode so please repeat the steps above until you get an all black screen.

4. You will get an iTunes message to restore. (Follow the steps above on how to restore.)

If the above steps still doesn’t work, repeat restoring and DFU mode recovery on other computer with iTunes. Your last resort if your iPhone is still a brick after all you’ve done is that you bring it to an Apple Service Center or maybe an authorized center by Apple. Of course, it would be really ridiculous if you’d tell them that you tried jailbreaking your iPhone unauthorized that it turned brick. Just walk in, hand them the unit, let them do the work and if it’s working again, walk away. You don’t really need to tell the whole story, because the moment they saw the brick– they already know your story.

References: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This article was for essays. ph. Nailed it! I got in! 😀


This era’s mixed tapes are playlists. 

Sometimes I can’t help but miss the days when people give each other tapes. Naming it depending on the mood and the songs contained. 

That sometimes you totally have no idea what songs and artists are in the tape, you just listen to it, and come time, you’ll love a particular song then ask the one who gave you what song it was.

Or maybe I just miss the days when people literally communicate and interact, not electronically. A lot has changed and how I miss the mixed-tape days

A Friend’s Regret

So I had this friend who’s getting a painful break up. Oh wait it’s not a break up. Well how do I put this up. And no, this is not me.

Well she’s been crushing on this seminarian for about 6 years, and knowing that the guy’s a seminarian she never dared to speak to him when she sees him on the school grounds (where the guy studied for a year) and on the seminary chapel every Sunday Mass. She said that she never really wanted to like him or what and that all those years she feels like she’s been sinning for such attraction to a guy who’s meant for Him. She wanted to really step up, know the guy but knowing that he’s probably really meant for God, she just didn’t want to interfere and mess it up.

Well the guy is now graduating from the seminary. And just yesterday she found out that the guy has some really special girl on the wait for him. She said that she saw how the guy looks at the choir soloist, etc. Well I get it she’s getting jealous.

But the tricky part here is that, she knows she shouldn’t be, because the guy clearly do not know her. And if yes the seminarian guy really had a special girl out there, well maybe now that he’s about to set foot out off the seminary, she just missed all the chances to say “hi” and start the friendship she long wanted. A chance given maybe a hundred times, but let’s face it, once in your life, you’ll meet someone who would captivate you.

A person who would captivate you and that’s all because you never dared to say “Hi”.

Wondering how dying feels like.

Do you suddenly stop breathing?
Or maybe chase your breath to your last seconds?

Are you aware of everything going on around you and just can’t respond to their calls and cries?
Or you really slowly fade into oblivion?

Do you really get flashbacks?
Or you just look forward to that peace ahead?

Can you really fight through that physical unconsciousness by the words of everyone telling you to hold on?
Or you really did let go, from that very moment you last closed your eyes?

Can you really hear us or even understand our words as we speak to you as we tend to you, kiss your head and cheeks?
Or you just know that someone is there, and you just can’t distinguish?

Can you still hear us, saying how much we love you, and how we’d love to care for you no matter what?
Or months before, you knew well that you’re time is closing in and had been preparing us, and yourself?

Is there really a soul beside your bed, drifting among us who weeps as we cry over your death?
Drifting among us, making sure that the promise of love and guidance is brought upon us?

Are the dried tears in your eyes a sign of suffering or of happiness?
On those last moments of consciousness, did you call upon us, and we were just too tired, so drawn to sleep that we didn’t to hear you?

Did you whisper how much you love us, though you know we were in a deep slumber?

I’ve always wanted to go back to that early March 6 morning, force myself awake to know how you died, to hear the things you could have said.

Or Mom, did you just close your eyes to sleep and passed away?

Entropy and Nostalgia in Classic Italian.

It’s Salvatore Sciarrino versus Ludovico Einaudi. Italian pianists, revving up the classical music industry. Well, I know a lot about how they started, their career and their lives. Thanks to Wikipedia. But no, I’m not gonna write about some fraud comparison of their personal lives, but instead I’ll use some of their pieces to compare them. I picked Sonata 1, 2, and 3 for Sciarrino; Fly, I Giorni and Nuvole Bianche for Einaudi.

Sciarrino, has real intense keyboard tapping action after the long silences imminent in his sonatas. Really intense that you actually get moved and mixed up too. It’s like finding harmony in chaos. Listening to his pieces felt simultaneously disturbing and engaging; it’s like looking for further climax to the actual climax. I also felt a bit scared listening to his sonatas, it was as if I have heard such a great piece but I just don’t want to hear it again, because I’m at loss really of what to feel after hearing it. It’s amazing how a musical piece blunders up your emotions just by listening to it everything was hooking and haunting at the same time.

Einaudi on the other hand sounded like bubbles and cotton flowers blown by the wind as you are taking a trip down your memory lane. His pieces were light and catchy that you wouldn’t mind looping it on your list. I had that feeling of wanting to travel back in time, it felt as if his music takes you somewhere you’ve already been before , somewhere familiar, someplace comfortable, recreating scenes and stories in your head- definitely nostalgic.

I may have been a bit too judgemental to the two pianists by basing it to just three of their pieces. And no, I am not recommending one over the other because these pianists are both avant-garde with their masterpieces and this keen amateur ear that I have isn’t just the rightful judge to their works. Well thing is, I enjoyed listening and evaluating the sudden urge of emotion that hits whenever they tap a key.

There really is a different feeling that you get when you listen to classical music, it’s just so full of emotions. It’s like hearing an old fashioned rhythm and after which you realize why it definitely deserves to transcend through time. Emotion is something we do not want to dwell much upon but given the gift of music it takes us back to that part of our humanity where we feel things, we remember and it’s either we cry or we smile, or both.

Emotion is, oh I take it back. Emotion is what music is about. Be it classical or not.

2 years.

Today is my Mom’s death anniversary. It’s her second year actually. And no matter how I shove the replays of those days I just can’t put it aside.

I’ve always wanted to write what happened that day. But just like this very moment. I feel like stopping. I’m always stuck as I type the words depicting that day and days afterwards and that I always skip the part where I’ve been really vulnerable because maybe I don’t want to relive that feeling of weakness.

But I wanna let go of these things. Not totally get rid of it, but I just really want to be able to write about it, express it.

So I guess I will try again.

MARCH 4, 2011, Friday

I was nominated for positions in my academic organization and that night we had to attend a simulated officer’s meeting.

But my instincts had it that I go home. I really don’t know why, but I felt like I had to. I was on the jeepney ride home when I got a text from dad saying “Anak, aral kang mabuti ha, love you. Ingat.” and that moment I was reading it, I knew something was up, but I did not really thought much about it.

Arriving home at 8 pm, the lights were off. Unusual because it’s too early for everyone to be asleep. Found out that grandmother was alone at home because they had to stay at the hospital for mom felt weak and just can’t go home after her dialysis. Well it wasn’t really that much of a shock for me because that time I was already used to mom spending a week or so at the hospital. So I packed a few clothes, brought my laptop and reviewers for the weekend ahead.

Arriving at the hospital, mom was already asleep. We had to send Josh home for he had classes the next day. So it was just me and dad with Mom.

MARCH 5, 2011, Saturday

 Mom was scheduled for endoscopy that day. Tita Nida and some of her friends came to visit her. Well that day we had a lot of laughs and I remember telling her stuffs about my nominations and that because she actually enjoyed my stories that I had convinced her to cut her nails which she didn’t want anyone to cut off the past few weeks.

After her endoscopy she started having aches everywhere that I had to massage her every  now and then, her legs, stomach, arms almost every part. The mefenamic the nurses were giving, I think wasn’t even working that we had to call them every now and then to check on her but they just really can’t increase the dosage.

Came the night and she was getting worse. She actually screams out loud for the pain that she feels and we couldn’t do anything more than caressing the part she complains about. I almost wanted to cry in front of her, because I can’t bear seeing her going through all that pain, but of course I can’t, I wouldn’t.

Dad and I were taking turns and it was almost midnight when dad told me to sleep and that he’d take the shift on taking her of her. I really didn’t know what time I actually slept because hearing her screams from the pain kept me awake and alert.

MARCH 6, 2011, Sunday

 I woke up on the couch beside her bed. Her bed that I didn’t know minutes later would be her death bed. I greeted mom “good morning” and I thought she was just asleep. We tried waking her up but she wasn’t responding and checking on her, I realized her pulse was faint.

Dad called the nurses to check on her and they were quick. Now all I remember was Dad telling me to go out of the room. I saw a defibrillator and I knew what’s coming next. I had my phone with me and now all I remember was dialing whoever was on the top of the list. It was Arvin. I really didn’t know what I said to him that minute nor do I remember what he said back, then I remembered dialing Vyn and Liezl. I was crying  and I didn’t know what to do. It was the moment I long dreaded to come. It was the the actual moment I’ve always prepared myself for, but it came crashing to me that I wasn’t ready.

Then I realized that I had to go back to the room. There were people in there. It was about an hour since I was gone. Going back there I was desensitized by the sight of people crying, hugging me and all deeming their condolences. We were brought home after that to prepare and sleep maybe. People texted me and that moment I never really had the energy or interest to even reply to any of them. I suddenly just had no purpose or anything. All I wanted was to end the day really.

My highschool friends came and for a while I felt okay, I actually laughed a lot. But I can clearly recall the shift of emotions when her remains came in, I cried so hard because it was only then that everything had been sinking in on me. A moment I can’t or wouldn’t forget.


I didn’t go back to Los Banos, for about a week after that. I just had no purpose in life after that incident. It felt like all my dreams were now just a waste of time. I didn’t want to see people or even talk to them because I know they know how hard things are for me and I don’t want them pitying on me. Well I guess, I just didn’t want to cry. I wanted them to retain the image of a strong girl they thought I am. But it was wrong.

I came to a point where I didn’t want to talk to anybody at home or even eat. A time I felt that living was totally pointless. I want to keep all that hurting to myself and I wanted to be gone too. Then I got hospitalized for clinical depression. I just had no sense in my life that time.

Friends and orgmates came to sleep over, entertain me and bribe me to come back to Los Banos. Days after being hospitalized they finally decided to bring me home. And we bought a dog. Patch.

I brought Patch to Los Banos. But I still did not attend my classes. I remember being in our apartment and not saying any word at all to anybody, I was just there playing with Patch or keeping myself busy with Angry Birds, it was really long before I conversed again. Every afternoon I’ll go out of the apartment to walk my dog around the campus, people would greet how cute Patch is, that I had to thank them and that is how I slowly regained communication and saying words again actually.

It has been two years and I believe that the month of March will always remind me of these things. And I guess I haven’t really said thanks to everyone who stood by me at my lowly times and understood, so thank you really. You don’t know how hard it was for me to actually talk and express myself again but you people made sure that I’ll be okay again.

For two years, I wouldn’t have met a lot of people and wouldn’t have been more than I thought I can if it was not for the people who accompanied me through those times.

And looking back, I believe that I am back to my old self, but a little better and much happier, and I know that time will come and  I’ll be tried by fate again, but knowing that I’ve been through worse, I claim that those hard times will pass too.

A no celebration birthday.

My birthday,  wasn’t really that grand this year.

But still I had loads of happiness from-where-else-Facebook -and-Twitter greetings that I got. No presents or anything, no cake, just plain day. But I realized I didn’t need to really celebrate my birthday because the mere fact that it’s also Valentines’ day, whatever I do, it will always be a joyful day for everyone, and that with all the red stuffs, flowers, chocolates and mere smiles you see around you, you can’t help but be infected by that contagious V-day feeling.

Admit it, ALMOST everyone is happy every Feb 14, it’s a day when everyone seems to do something special for someone.

Well. I did not  do anything special that day. Oh wait I did, i turned myself 22 that day 😀 HAHA.



Holla! I just bade my goodbye to Tumblr.

I ditched it a few days ago. I was finally letting go of a lot of memories. Happy memories, sad memories, the favorite pictures, the cute posts reblogs and stuffs. It was like letting go of the child in me, I wanted change and Tumblr isn’t just the place for a blog that I wanted. I felt like Tumblr was slowly being a facebook. Though  you can’t ignore the fact that there are real bloggers or real good writers there. Or maybe I finally did it because I just didn’t like the fact that the “followers” and the “notes” were a such a big deal for almost everyone and I felt like I was the only one who doesn’t give fuck of such attention on a post.

Or maybe I am one of those who blogs for myself and not really for everyone.

So moving on.

Happy Birthday to me. 🙂

The Magicians by Lev Grossman

The Magicians. Lev Grossman. 2009. Plume. 516 pages.

Judging from the title itself yes it’s about magic. But reading it, it’s a whole new take of the word magic itself. I couldn’t literally put it down the moment I started and still can’t after reading it.

It’s about Quentin Coldwater and his life on what-seemed-like-Hogwarts Brakebills Academy for  magicians. On the latter part of the part of the book is his life after Brakebills and the adventure with his friends on a seemingly-Narniaish-world Fillory, a place they once believed to be fictional.

What I loved about this is how they intricately put some maturity in it and not just all fantasy adventure. It showed the discontentment of Quentin in his life, complicated lives and love affairs of the characters, decision makings in life etc. But I’d say my favorite part is how they had sum up the story at the end, how everything fits together and what The Magicians (title of the lost sequel on the Fillory and Further) is all about.

Reading it felt like believing in fairy dusts again and enjoying the moment because somehow knowingly there’s a part of me knowing it’s not gonna last.

Finally finding my sense of reality from a fantasy book. 🙂




I found this letter when I was browsing one of the boxes at our old toys’ room.

I don’t know if dad had intentionally put it away or it was really just misplaced/forgotten in that box.

Anyway, it was a memory worth salvaging since it was one of dad’s love letters to mom before their marriage, so I took it and placed it somewhere dad would see it, and in case he decides to browse his memory box, he’ll have a whole lot of nostalgic surge.

It’s really nice to know that they lived in that time. That time when love letters were real and communication were physical and not merely electronic. And whenever I imagine how they met and came to be, everything just seem surreal. A time when love was divine, sacred and true.

I’d imagine my mom smiling shyly to my father and dad saying I love you with sincerity in his eyes (plus add flickerings and a grayscale or sepia tone for the scene).
Maybe I really am lucky to be a child born out of true love. Because though mom had passed away, I know that dad feels her love whenever he sees us. Because maybe, just maybe, in the back of his mind there’s some part tickling the thought that we were the fruits of the love they shared once  share forever.

A love seething through our veins.
I wonder if a love like that exists today. If it does, then a child/children born out of it would surely be just great, because like us they wouldn’t need to be told of the stories behind their marriage, they’ll just know of the love between their parents, they’ll feel it  encompassing them; the igniting surge of care and sincerity with their actions. No words, just pure love.

Ang bestfriend ko, ex ko.

These were the actual words from his letter that he gave after our talk about our breaking up last year.

(We lasted only a few months. Why? Because we realized that we, are really better as best friends, we’re more comfortable with that. You see, we’ve been best friends since Kindergarten, oo kasi since kindergarten to HS magkaklase kami, though ngayon eh isang P35 na jeepney fare lang naman ang layo niya from LB. So here it goes:)

Dear girlfriend,

Yes natakot ako. Scared na masira ang best-friendship natin. Who wouldn’t? Because unlike what they all believed from bestfriend-to-lovers movie, we got something more. All these years, we regarded ourselves as bestfriends, more than siblings and like soulmates. So then I was more than bothered. So honestly, I thought na “this has to stop na.”

It’s just that I love us just the way we are. I love what we always had that I couldn’t desire for anything else, that we need not to change our selves. I find this friendship-love greater than any in existent even than lovers’-relationship. Maybe, we’re not still ready for this kind of thing just as you said. Yes you can also say it’s pure cowardice on my part, but I just can’t bear to risk what we have right now. Others believe views like these are gay and unreasonable and stupid, they can judge me for all i care, but I believe bestfriends are more than any treasure you could ever have. And I can’t even contain the fact that I hit the jackpot among the 7 Billion people on earth. Some would love many times, but I don’t think you could have more than one soulmate in a lifetime just as you are to me and I to you. We could be enjoying doing this, but later on, as all matures are; we can’t neglect the fact that nothing’s going to change. Maybe this is what as it seems, but it’s not that I’m hindering anything more profound like a deeper relationship na mangyari. It’s just that I don’t think this is the way to start it, or this is how it should goes. I don’t know how this will end either, but why search for an end if everything’s changing? We know nothing of what’s to come, and if yun nga ang kahahantungan, then I’d be more than happy to welcome that destiny.

I would be happy continuing this so-called relationship that we have. 🙂 But an inspiring church mate once told me, if may kahit konting doubt, uncertainty or discomfort sa puso mo, then it would be wisest not to let things be. And I believe relationships are real only if we are true. And I simply believe I would be much better as a full time kyuut bestfriend. 😀 swiit.

Pareho nga ba tau ng nasa-isip or much over-board na ang drama ko? Hehehe XD

I’m deeply sorry if there’s a part of whatever happened caused you stress or trouble in any way, the fault is mine for any of them. I hope I didn’t stepped out of bounds sa message ko, sorry if I confused things up.

Yes indeed after these walang magbabago sa friendship natin. Hahah just don’t wonder and worry anymore if our friendship will be tested in the future,. (haha sori nbasa ko chat nyu ni kepoi. Haha) Whatever those are, we would overcome them. 🙂

I’m still you’re bestest friend as you would always be mine. 😀
This letter is issued upon for such legal purposes as it may serve. Lol. I love you still. ❤

Sincerely yours,

Our brief love story was yung tipo na nadevelop kami, like the movies eh?

Alam niyo yun, iba pala talaga yung feeling na maiinlove ka easily out of nowhere sa isang tao, at yung maiinlove ka sa isang tao na matagal mo nang kakilala.

Dun kasi sa pagka-fall mo sa isang tao na kakakilala mo lang, may kakaibang hatak yung sense of mystery, kasi gusto mo pa siyang makilala pa sya, beyond the characteristics na nagustuhan mo sa kanya. Ganito yung first relationship ko, hahaha, yung everything was so unpredictable kaya may sense of kilig. May thrill, kasi out of nowhere, naramdaman na masaya ka sa piling niya. Pero ngayon nauuso yung ma-fall na hindi mo sure kung ganun rin ba sya sayo, kasi it’s either malandi sya o assuming ka o wala ka talaga. HAHA. Tipong, you’ll been friendzoned pala.

But at least people, you tried.
Learn from it, move on.

Pero yung pagkadevelop naman sa isang tao na matagal mo nang kaibigan, medyo predictable na yon, kasi kilalang kilala niyo na ang isa’t isa ang at one point mejo sumasagi na rin sa isip niyo dati na baka dumating nga kayo sa point na yon. NA DEPENDE SAYO KUNG IEENTERTAIN MO YUNG FEELING NA YUN O MASAYA KA NA TALAGA NA GANYAN LANG KAYO.

At bakit tayo na-fafall sa long time friends? Kasi alam na alam mo na yung mga turn on at turn offs niya, katangahan at mga bagay na dapat pa niyang idevelop. At siguro kung tunay nga kayong magkaibigan, hindi mawawala ever yung concern at love. Hindi nawawala yon. Magkatuluyan man kayo o hindi, laging andon lang yon.

I guess it was a brave move na nag-try kami. I mean, we learned a lot from it.

Masakit pero naka move on naman kami (though two weeks kaming hindi nagusap). And look at us? We’re closer than ever. Maganda ring conversation starter pag dinadala niya ako sa parties pag sinasabi ng tao na “bagay kayo”, syempre ang sagot namin “actually ex ko po yan”. HAHAHAHA. And it goes from there.

“We know nothing of what’s to come, and if yun nga ang kahahantungan, then I’d be more than happy to welcome that destiny”
Yes, we’re not closing our hearts if ever kami nga someday, though bawal din isara ang puso para sa iba.

So I guess kung hinahanap mo yung taong magpapasaya talaga sayo wag kang puro antay lang. You really need to take risks, hanapin mo rin sya, magkamali ka man at masakatan ka, aba matuto ka, tapos move on.

And when you’ve thought about it and feeling mo ready ka na ulit, you love again.


Ang mga sumusunod ay para sa mga damoves na di mo gustong ientertain.
Para walang paasa at aasa.
Para makaiwas sa landian na walang patutunguhan.
Collection ng mga total turn-off applicable to all sexes. O yeah.

Kapag hinihingi na number mo sabihin mo “ano kuya? Ano? Ano? Di ko magets may pagkabingi ko e…”
Kapag nasa dance floor at sumesexy grind na sya sayo, magsomersault, backflip at floorings
Kapag makakasalaubong mo sya na maraming dalang libro. Umiba ng daan. Luma nang damoves yon.
Kapag nahulog ballpen niya ng malapit sayo, sipain palayo.

Pag binigyan kang chocolate, tanggapin, magpasalamat at sabihing, “wow thanks, pano mo nalamang ngayon ko lalasunin aso namin?”
Pag lumapit sya, nacorner ka at tinatanong na name mo, be polite, sabihin mo. In ngongo version. Continue conversing sa ganung manner.
Pag super tagal ka na niyang tinititigan from afar and maintaning it e lumalapit na siya, bigla kang mangulangot.
Pag binigyan ka ng bulaklak, tanggapin. Ngumiti at sabihing “Salamat! Sana umabot to hanggang Undas. :D”
Pag nahulog books niya, wag tulungan. Hayaan mong iba ang mabiktima ng damoves niya.
Pag nag-hi sayo magsign language na deaf and mute ka.

Pag pasimple nyang binigay ang number niya sa tissue. Kunin. Lumapit at ibulong, “tamang tama najejebs na ko”

IKAW?? May antidamoves ka ba dyan?


Ikaw na ata yung pinakanakakatawang tao na kilala ko – pag tulog.
Oo. Pag tulog ka. HAHA!Ang sarap mong kurutin, at gisingin. Pero ayokong gambalain ka.

Alam kong pagod ka. Ahm, hindi pala, antukin ka nga pala talaga.
Pero feeling ko pagod ka talaga. Sa dami ba naman naming humahabol sayo. :))

Basta pag magmamahal ka ah, wag yung gagaguhin ka.

Loosing ties and losing streaks

Do you not wonder why some of the people so fond of you before are becoming ever so distant now?

Have you ever asked your self if you have changed yourself for the better, or you are currentl\y becoming less?

Have you ever taken a look at the mirror lately and pondered if what you’re seeing and what make other people see is really true?

Are you really being the person you are, or what I see of you is mere pretension of who you can’t be at the moment?

Is this person that you project a defense mechanism or i am just being too judgmental of you?

It breaks my heart as i look back on those days that you weren’t like this. You are a total puzzle now, and can’t seem to fit the pieces.

Please stop being pathetic, please stop begging, please have your manners back.

I didn’t know dimes could spell life for you

It was only when you came looking for it – eventually not finding it that you pretended to be some freak show I never imagined.

And no. I don’t miss you at all. I just wish you a good life.

No matter where these loosing ties and losing streaks will take you, I wish you well.

I wish you very well that you find yourself back.

Maybe not really your old self but a better one. Not this one.

Sara Gruen

Kung Biologist ka, maeenjoy mo ang books niya. 🙂
Yung Water for Elephants, more of circus life and love siya. Yung Ape House, more of animal awareness, animal love at naisip ko lang, yung Ape House para siyang satirical representation of reality shows these days. Though i don’t know if may ganung point rin si S. Gruen.

Feeling randomly happy.

You smile for no reason, and brightens up everyone you cross upon.

You sure are full of jolting hormones and quirky remarks, laughing your heart out till you find yourself crying out with random silly things.

You were like a bar of chocolate on a pile of fruits.
No one can miss you  out.

But isn’t it also sad that you were being randomly happy for no reason
and no one seems to bother and look beyond those smiles?



Once I’ve the thought of walking to the sea from the seaside
Of letting the waves take you in
The tides drowning you
Opening your eyes and seeing anew.
You want to stay under current,
But it’s a choice of life and death
Either way you feel pain
But choosing life you may gain.
While choosing death is abrupt pain.
Abrupt pain but soon you’ll forget,
You’ll drift to a realm where you don’t fret.



Be it Henna or a permanent one, 
it can give you character. 
From looking vulnerable to tough.
And from looking tough to tougher. 
And that moment you decided to stain your skin,
You’ve never felt more free, never felt more happy.
Then you wonder if you’ll ever feel the same,
When it’s time for the reason behind it
And tattoo itself, starts to fade away. 

The Room by Emma Donoghue

The Room. 2010. Emma Donoghue. 336 pages.

This is a story of Jack’s life with his Ma and escape from The Room, the only space he believed he needed his whole life.

It was like hearing a five year old’s fascination of things and the undoubted innocence of the real world  outside the Door. His mother’s concern, love and struggle for him to be alive was well expressed into words that you’ll be moved to read it whole at one sitting.

One thing I realized after reading it is that we all have this little Jack and come change we always want to go back to that little Room with which we are used too. But thing is, we can’t always be there because it’s a vast world we’re gonna miss out if we do.


Any resemblance to name or event is purely incidental. And how the girl wished that this was really how their story ended.

Forever. A word so beautiful yet seldom used. Synonymous to infinity, endless and lifetime, all bound to continue indefinitely and much less— with no end.There had been lots of promises to forever and I don’t easily give on to those. And I actually wouldn’t want to make a promise like such. Why? Two simple things. First, because we, humans, tend to break promises in one way or another, intentionally or can be unintentional. And I wouldn’t want hurt that someone whom I promised something forever to wait a lifetime and not get it. And second, I don’t know when and how forever starts, so why bother promising something you don’t really know?
Maybe I just haven’t understood that word yet and it is very likely that someday I wouldn’t remember to look for its real meaning. But I hope and pray that YOU, reading this, may find your own embodiment of that beautiful word.May this blog see forever and hope it finds YOU.  And may you understand why I can’t love you forever.”

This was the first entry on his blog, and I know that this post is in some way directed to me. I wonder who he is now? Some celebrity? Just his name and 5940 hits?? Maybe. He’s got the looks and talent, he sure can go far.It was very ridiculous of me to look for his name on the internet after 23 years.23 years. I definitely have moved on completely from him, but who wouldn’t want to remember their first relationship? The bliss of the moment when you first held hands, euphoria when he gives you surprises and the magical feeling after your first kiss. Oh yes that kiss, like I was floating a week after that, makes me feel smitten until now. He was 5 years older than me and we sure looked like just some brother-sister on stroll everytime we go out, and actually that age-gap-matter was a big issue for me that time, because I really looked like just some kid beside him while he looked all professional in his white uniform as a nurse. He knew me more than I knew myself. We love talking about sensible things that he can actually be a philosopher I can quote. He was the funny one while I was the one with the witty remark. He said that my expressions can really be contagious and that was one thing he loved about me. He’ll drive 3 hours to go to my university and watch over me review for my exam on the 24-7 café after his duty. I would never forget the eyes that can bore through my soul. And get the hell truth out of me or the smile that makes one feel alright and the voice that soothes a tensed soul. He was a nurse occupationally and naturally.

We lasted a year. We decided to break up because he was going to Canada and that long distance relationship won’t work for us, and it is better that we break up now personally than have our feelings faded. But we still kept in touch exchanging emails every week, talking over Skype during weekends. We knew that the love was still there but we just can’t try to pursue love over the wire. He promised that after I graduated my 4-year course he’ll come back and see if the feelings would still be there, that we’ll try again. He said that every day, he hopes that my graduation date would come any closer. And as for me, I do my best to graduate on time.

There was not a day that I don’t miss his reminders for me to be careful, and whenever I am confined  or do anything related to a hospital how I wish that he was the nurse that tends to me.Gradually our communication lessened because I focused on my studies and joined an organization. He too on the other hand became busier and as he said had been “learning the ropes” and enjoying whenever he can.  We agreed that if ever anyone comes along, then of course each of us can date whoever we like. But he promised that he won’t break his promise on my graduation. I was hopeful, happy and content.

Months passed and an unexpected call came. My cousin informed about Kian. Of how he got someone pregnant and the girl was then 3 months pregnant. And never did he mention about something like that.I was furious and emailed him. It was about all the hate, grudge, rant, jealousy and how hopeful I was that I was the only one. I despise him, everything about him that very moment, like I just want to cry and curse every bit of him. But all I managed was to send the email full of hate and try to review for my exam the next day.

I am not the type who cries so easily so I really have to find an outlet to give in and pour my tears. Alcohol. I drowned myself in vodka one night and laid all my grief and  pain to pour in front of my trusted friends, I collapsed and didn’t remember anything after that. I thought after that I’ll be okay, but I weren’t.

I found out that moving on means facing the tears, the heart aches, revelations, and facing him. I promised myself that I would hear his side and his story but eventually end everything about us. He said he was drunk and the girl had long been eyeing him, he didn’t deny the fact that it happened not just once. He said he don’t love the girl, and that she was famous for being on one night stands with other guys and that he is still hoping that that the baby isn’t really his. I thought that would be all but he ended by saying,“It happened because I can’t love you forever.”

It was the most painful sentence I’ve ever heard.I looked like a fool crying in front of the computer as we talk, but I managed to say everything I had to say. This has to end now. And from that moment that I logged out I decided that I’ll end all my connections and avoid all his memories. I cancelled my Skype account and even marked him as Spam in my email inbox and deleted his messages with not even a peek of what it says.

Moving on was never easy. Sometimes I’ll catch myself missing our ways, or musing on the same things as we had before. But then came a time I got tired of missing him, and lots of diversions were laid in front of me. And I know, I have to grab those. And found myself totally rid of him.

So now, it has been 23 years after that. Im 41 now, an established businesswoman with a family of my own. And then I wondered how he is now.

It was very ridiculous of me to look for his name on the internet after 23 years. I never saw him on Facebook or Google+ or I just really didn’t try to look for him. Then I saw his blog on and tried to read it from the first post.

Concluding from the next posts thereafter I realized that this blog started A month after he came to Canada.

There were posts about our little conversations about my graduation. How he misses me, and wished I was there with him. How a girl he doesn’t like has been hitting on her and wished she was gone.Then I came to his sixth post titled REVELATIONS.

The real reason I came here to Vancouver isn’t because I have to work. My parents left me money that I guess can sustain me my whole life, but I decided to go here to seek advanced medical attention. My father died of Alzheimer’s and so is his father so what do I expect? And 2 years ago (he was 24 when he was writing this) I had myself checked for symptoms of early Alzheimer’s onset. And my doctor advised me to go seek a specialist here to prevent full onset of this disease.If in any case you didn’t know about Alzheimer’s it is a degenerative disease, incurable and terminal. You forget things like amnesia, but this is slow and mine started early.Months of stay here made me miss home back in the Philippines and I guess makes me sad. My new doctor here said I should avoid stress of any kind because lately the symptoms are frequenting like I’m being more forgetful about recent things and been slurring at some words.I cry every night thinking about how I lied to the girl I love. How I had to break up with her and make her agree with me to do the same. How I kissed her for the first and I guess the last time. She was 18 and I know it was her first kiss, I didn’t want to rush things with her, she had always been the innocent one. She never dresses up like most girls would do, but I love it when she goes baggy and still look cute. I just have to smile and she brightens up. How I’d hug her everytime when she falls asleep on my shoulders and kiss her on the head. How I play up with her hands and hold her tight so she wouldn’t let go.I miss how she’d get insecure when people eye us up. I miss driving 3 hours from duty to go to her apartment and come with her to a 24-hour café and watch her study and cram for her exam the next day. How I’d make doodles on her hand-outs so she’d read them, how I’d surprise her in public and she’d be flushed red for such a sweet act. I miss her contagious witty remarks. Our deep and sensible conversations, how she’d awkwardly look at me when I snatch her hand in front of the public. I cry every night because I know even if I’d say I’ll love you forever, there will come a time that I won’t remember. Time will come that I’ll forget about you, my love for you. I can’t love you forever. I just can’t,  Id love to love you forever but I REALLY CAN’T.I AM SO SORRY.”

In that very moment. I felt so stupid. So damn stupid I wanted to cry loud, but tears only fell silently on the keyboard as I scrolled down to read more.

The eight post was about his getting frequent trips on the bar, getting drunk and finding himself on somebody else’s bed—and always on the whore hitting on her. After about four times of that incident he decided to stop drinking and opt to do something productive rather than drinking and instead do community service by volunteering himself on a feeding program of an organization.

Jessica, the girl, no. THE WHORE who’s been hitting on me the past few months and the one who’s been taking advantage of my drunk nights just came to my flat telling me she’s pregnant and I’m the father. WHAT THE HECK! I know she’s been hitting on other guys too! Like every guy on the block already had sex with her. WHAT A WHORE! YOU JUST CAN’T GO TO MY PLACE AND MAKE ME CLAIM THAT BABY! FUCK YOU. I didn’t like you in the first place and I myself am not even sure if I really had sex with you on those nights! FUCK.DAMN YOU BITCH! I have my heart back in the Philippines and in no way you’d get it. GET LOST WHORE. Never will I admit that’s mine. NO WAY. NEVER.”

So that was the real story. I felt like I was stabbed by knives. Relentless pour of tears came. I was sobbing on my seat. People were looking at me, at I mind them not. I had to know every thing now. This is a story long delayed to be told. Or maybe too late. I had to know his story even if it would mean I’d look stupid here.

The 28th post contained how he felt about the email I sent him after knowing about the girl. I was sobbing louder and louder as I felt his sorry’s— deep skin and true. He didn’t want me to go, saying how stupid of him to go drinking alone on a place where he had only a few true friends.

Oh Kian, if I only knew! I wanted to scroll faster but read everything. How stupid of me not to listen to him. There I read about the emails that he sent me. The emails I thrashed and dare not even read. How badly he wants me back and how much he’s about to go crazy crying day and night. Of how this blogs became a source of comfort for him, for here he can express, unlike in real life.I was crying and looking grim. I can’t help it. How would I know if I dare not listen to him that time? STUPID ME. How I wish I can go back. WISH I HAD LISTENED.

The 35th post was not written by him. It was written by his friend for him.

“Kian on the bed. Rain writing here.Kian is here beside me, he made me promise that if ever his motor skills degenerates I’ll wirte for him.I’ll write his state, what he’s doing and everything and that I’ll keep his blog alive or if I don’t write new posts, I’ll just update his site so it’ll stay in the web in my lifetime. A little favour for a good friend. Well lately he wasn’t able to update his blog for he broke down due to depression. He is thin and looking fragile now, but definitely ok. But lately his memory is getting rusty, he seems to forget recent things more and more and had been slurring more. But don’t worry dude we’re here praying for you. You’ll get well soon! I hope that whoever is the girl (a girl she just wouldn’t name) whom he wants to see this blog in time would find this. I hope that it is possible that in the millions of blogs out there she’ll find this. And find his words, words he wanted to tell her. Occasionally he’ll cry because of what happened to them. This guy here beside me sure is the broken hearted man but the still the passionate guy.There was not a night that he’d stare blankly and say “I love her so much. I hope she won’t forget me as I will forget her someday”. Hope you find this girl.”

I was trembling and all.  My heart thumps hard on my chest and some people were even pointing at me now. Now, I can’t hide the pain. It was like so sudden. Everything I’ve ever done to forget him was definitely all the wrong thing to do. I wanted to rewind my life and try to lend my ears to him, pacify my anger and hear his all.

Then I came to the last post. Rain had been writing all these now.

This I guess would be the last post on Kian’s blog. Though I would be updating this for he kept a fund for this blog to go until I am 80 years old. I hope that word of this blog and his love for the said girl would go far, far until it reaches her. Kian died  8:29 pm he had been on feeding tubes for 4 weeks and had been on respirator. He had a zapped nerve on the head a month ago which caused him to weaken. His Alzheimer worsen since last year and needed a nurse of his own. He sometimes would forget who we are or who he is. Sometimes he would ask me, “There is something i want to remember, who is this girl in my head? She has a great smile.” Whenever he’d ask me that I always shed a tear. Maybe he had forgotten her name, or his love for her but not her smile.And oh, since I am officially closing this account for posts, I now give you a draft of Kian that he had not been able to post long ago that which I’ve only seen just now. Here it goes: “I will try to remember you forever. And I hope that somewhere in your heart I still reside. Forever isn’t forever without you. I love you so much. I love you, but not forever.” So there, may she know that until his last she had always been remembered. Not fully but eternally.”

I cried hard and sobbed my all. I knew in my heart that I did not totally revoked him out of my system. Because if I did I wouldn’t be here looking for his name or even took interest reading the whole of his blog, or cry in public, in this café.
But I guess it was the act of desperation I’ve long wanted to do, the desperation of getting him back, but it is too late now.

This 24-hour café where I used to review for my exams as he watched me, thinking that if ever he’ll come back, maybe he’ll remember this café and go here to see me—see me waiting at a corner. Always waiting at that same spot.

Of pasts and miracles.

Just so, we all know that my mother had been sick since December 2009. And recollecting those memories pain me, but I have to tell everyone what happened and what’s going on because with all this hardship we’re going through, I can at least exhaust my thoughts into writing and to those who happened to help us would know the story and hopefully continue to uplift our spirits at trying times.

It all started the last week of November 2009, she had experienced tummy aches and she didn’t mind it, she usually have those as part of her menopausal syndrome. Then second week of December came, and she was hospitalized for what we thought was “empacho” and was hospitalized until the third week. She was quite well that time, though she had no appetite at times but still tries though be it of  little servings. December 24 came and it was the date for a Reyes family reunion. We were all set to go there but my mother said that she won’t come because she doesn’t feel well. She was left alone at home as me, my brother, father and my grandmother set to go to the party.

It was 8 pm when we decided to go home so that we can still go for the Christmas mass at 10 pm. When we got home, that is when she started to act weird. First, she told us that we should eat the little rice servings she prepared at the dining table when the right time comes. Asking her (about what time it is she’s talking about)she never tells, and that she’ll tell when it’s time. She had been very talkative then on, for hours she was telling us a lot of stories in the past (which we have heard all of course) recounting them as if it was her first time to tell it to me and my brother. We we’re telling her to drink water since she must have been thirsty for telling those stories with no pause. But she just wouldn’t drink it. We we’re at the dining table asking her to drink but she continue to refuse. She was acting weirder and weirder as time ticks, acting like she is being possessed by an entity. I was so scared that time because I’ve never seen my mother like that. She doesn’t stop talking but she didn’t drink or eat either.

My father was desperate that he called to my mother’s sister asking her to come ASAP (though she is still at Pagbilao, Quezon and it would take hours), because we don’t know what to do. It was 4 am in the morning when she started to freak us more when she’s saying that she could see a soul and pointing at the gate asking me if i could see it too, because she said if i did, she would live and if not she won’t. Imagine if you we’re there,what would you tell her? I said that I could see it, though I really see nothing. I was just agreeing all to what she’s saying and recounting those is a blur now, because I don’t want to remember it fully, though as I am writing this, i can recount the scenes, and it is just so painful because it seems to haunt my eyes when I close them. Morning came and thinking it was all but supernatural we first consulted a psychic friend of her and he told that she is not possessed. It was just sort of a breakdown due to stress or nervousness. And at that time, we didn’t really know why. She became calm for a day she ate and drank a little, but still murmuring things to herself, but then the night after, she refuses to eat or drink again and that is when we asked to call for Tita Nida because she just won’t listen to us but Tita’s voice. When she came over (so late at night) we decided to bring her to the ospital. But she just won’t calm herself. With highblood pressure as they checked they asked her to take a pill to help her blood pressure come down, but she just won’t open her mouth. She clearly refuses to take it in and tightens her grip because she said she didn’t like the thought of IV fluids, saying it wouldn’t help her. Nurses just can’t make her open her mouth. But I managed to make her open her mouth and take the medicine under her tongue. Then they injected something to make her feel sleepy. But she’s fighting it and sleep just won’t touch her and she’s pulling the IV cords, so me and my brother who were there for the night sought help and it was such a pity that the nurses had to tie her fingers on the railings of the bed.  The next day, she refuses to eat and drink again and the nurses said that she had to eat or drink or she would not recover. That was then that they asked if we would allow them to put a Nasogastric tube for her. It was such a hard decision for us because it involve a tube to be reach the phraynx by the nose which to be placed by FORCE, and yes, without her consent— only in our hands, our decision. It took us hours and finally we decided to do it. there had to be relatives inside the room to calm her or hold her down as the tube is being placed. It was just my brother who was there since me and my father cannot bear to see her being forced to such.

And since she was hospitalized I stayed in the hospital with her everyday; my brother and my father taking turns in sleeping over at night. For days she was feeding and given medicine through the tube and I never left her side until January 4 (resume of my class). Yes, we we’re not able to celebrate Christmas and spent the New Year at the hospital. I only go home to fetch clothes. Sometimes when she wakes up, she wouldn’t know who we are, like amnesia, and just think of how hard it is to bear. My classes resumed and I decided that I would go home every night so that my father would be able to rest as I take on watching her overnight as I study (I even took my laptop and my other things there). It was so tiring, like waking up early to take a bath and leave San Pablo by 6 am for my 7 am class to Los Banos, then going home to San Pablo again by 7 pm and doing assignments, requirements and simultaneously caring for my mother’s needs. Exhausting but i did not mind that. She got out from the hospital 3rd week of January. I thought that after that, my mother would start to go well. And Recovery is all next.

But it was February 14 that she was again hospitalized. I cannot remember why, all I remember was that, I came home to find my mother hospitalized again, and now, being on dialysis for the FIRST TIME. Yes, on Valentine’s day, my birthday.

And to this date, it would be a year since she’s been having dialysis—and a year since I had the saddest birthday. Since then she started dialysis, once a week. At first, she said she would try to go back teaching after she had taken rest and felt well. She started to grow dark and thin. I cannot remember when she started having two dialysis per sessions week. Sometimes she would be so down and crying at one corner pitying herself. And all we could do is uplift her and make her feel loved. Not only by us,her family, but by everyone. Sometimes, she would just be on the bedroom only sleeping, eating and drinking medicine. But she realized that there’s something wrong with her eyes, diagnosed later on a s a mild cataract and now we are saving up for her eye surgery.

Just last week, my mother was hospitalized again for she’s been puking and having tummy aches—eating less again. And Mam Olive, gave us the pledges they pooled and helped us cope up with the hospital’s finances. She had blood transfusion and endoscopy for they found out that she had internal bleedings. They also found out that her Hepa shots failed her and her liver is now failing too, and that made her have her dialysis thrice a week. And just last Friday she was again confined after her dialysis because she became weak and almost had no energy to respond to my father.

She’s weaker by the minute but I know she’s fighting it. Her medications are piled up on list, but she doesn’t complain, she takes it, she is fighting. And we are too. We all are fighting for life everyday. I do not fear talking about death and let’s just face it, it comes to all of us and we should bravely face it, be it our end—or of others. I cannot deny that she’s having more and more complications and as my brother puts it, her disease has come to its end stage, and as early as now, we come to ready ourselves to whatever may happen in the following weeks, months or as we hope, even years. It’s sad, but that’s life, not everything is supposed to be happy, and all things happen for a reason. Maybe all I could do for her now is to live up and pass the values that she taught me, the patience, good heart and wits.

With this,  I hope that you all would stand by us in prayers and yes maybe, belief, in MIRACLES.


One Friday night I came home and found my mother with my old notebook and a pen. And as I came to her she handed me this letter.

I have only one daughter
whose name is Lourdes Jan,
but i’ve never known her heart.

I always pray to the FATHER above
to take care of her;like a dove that always cling to Him

In all times of her life to be able to gather the LIGHT.
I love her so much.

It’s the same way her father and her only brother care for her so much.

Mommy Osy

My darling under one roof,for so many years I thought we’re close to each other enough.

But later on I realized that we are decades apart. I love you, I hope you love me too in return.

When I read it, I tried so hard to hold back my tears.

And now, it makes me think. Should I have cried in front of her or was it right that I fought my tears back?

And I don’t know why she felt like I didn’t love her.

Actually, I SO love her.

I am not just that verbally expressive to her, and that I think was one thing I regret.

I regret that I have overlooked the little things that could have meant a lot for her.

The simple words that I deprived her hearing.

Ever since I was young, I grew up never confiding my problems to her. I never told her the heart aches, hardships and stories behind my laughters and tears. She’ll only know when it’s over, only to know it from my father or other people.

I was not a mama’s girl to call it I was more fond of my father to say so. We never really had time to bond that much she was a college professor and I was the daughter trying to get away from the shadows and privileges of our surname and realizing it now, maybe that is the reason why she felt so far, why she felt like she never knew my heart, I never really wanted to depend on her.

And college came and the distance grew more… physically and emotionally.

Then she became sick.

And everytime I come home. I was not the same me anymore.

And I realized I’ve lost sense for showing my love… and in that very moment I finished reading her letter that I was slapped by reality that I have to run ahead of TIME to be able to fill the gaps we have.

Knowing her time can run so fast, I better keep pace with it while I can.

Letting go.

You are getting colder by the minute. And I wasn’t so surprised. Maybe yes, you were busy. You are busy.

I too am. And I guess it’s fair. We’re no longer in a relationship and I guess someday we’d get to the part where hellos would get more and more awkward.

I do hope you are okay there. I love you. I don’t know until when, but I do have feelings for you still. It’s a bit saddening that all these feelings I have are now only words unexpressed.

I am thankful that you happened to my life. It doesn’t matter when all our communication will stop, you are such a pain in the heart.

But thank you. And I love you still, but I’m finally letting you go.

February 14, 2010

A day I turn 19.  A day supposed to be spent with friends with all the red thingies and hearts.
A day I joyfully welcome another year on my age tab.

But that day it was different.
It was a day spent at the hospital. It was the day my mom started her dialysis.

I never really had any celebration that day, I also remember purposely disabling posting on my Facebook wall. I wore black because it was never really some great day to look jolly or what. I did shed a tear or two because I was just 19 years old and having no celebration that day felt bad because it just reminded how grand my début party was last year and having no celebration was like a harsh slap of reality.

Felt like everything was a bit sudden. I wasn’t ready. There wasn’t any part of me ready to grow and mature that fast.

There wasn’t even any cake or what. I had the chance to celebrate days after with my batchmates. It wasn’t even a celebration they gave me a big stuffed toy but I wasn’t able to treat them for dinner. I felt bad, but to this day I realized how loving and understanding Microfilaments were to me at those times. They know how tight our budget were that time. Dialysis is really costly.

Oh anyway, since I turned 19 this year I never really want to celebrate my birthday ever again.

Well I guess I don’t really need to celebrate my day because everyone will always tend to mistake me as someone younger than my real age. 🙂

The shortest sweetest email

“I’ll be back after two years I’ll save up. I’ll find you and get back to you. I’ll be on your graduation. I promise.

I don’t want to write a long email because no virtual words could ever express how I really feel. I don’t want a love that’s virtual.

I’ll keep in touch.  No need to reply I understand how busy you are. 🙂

My regards to Tito and Tita! To Josh and Lola!

I love you.”


Wrong story, Prince Charming.

We did broke up last December. I know things still haven’t changed that much. We’re okay, he still visits me at home and we do go on dates but I guess it’s just not right.

Just think of how I’d feel when he’s gone? I want to lose this attachment to him somehow, I want to ready myself. I don’t wanna be crippled by his absence. I’m too hooked, too attached, too glued and being so, pulling me fast away from him would hurt a lot.

But can you blame me of being too attached? I just can’t let go of him too as he is to me. It is really hard to lose someone. Losing someone because you let him go.

But I stand by my decision of not demanding him to abandon his dream job.

I am young. He must one of those I’d love in this lifetime. I can’t really fixate myself with the delusion that someday it’ll be him and me. Not everyone gets to have their first boyfriend as their husband. And I’m not really thinking about that yet. But you get the feeling I guess, a child’s belief of happy-ever-afters. But I guess, fairytales are only real if you knew a real fairy.

It happened that I don’t know a fairy, so I guess, a relationship with a happy ending isn’t just my story, yet.

But someday I know I’ll know a fairy, get that happy ending, and yes, maybe he’s really a Prince Charming of some fairytale but I’m just not the Princess for him.

You got on the wrong story, Prince Charming.


New Year’s Eve.

Still at the hospital. Mom was admitted last December 25. Hallucinatory. Not eating, speaking or even recognizing anyone. I didn’t even know that Christmas passed that day. I woke up with puffy eyes from crying. And since she was admitted I haven’t gone home yet again. Dad’s going back and forth to get my things and clothes. And no, I don’t wanna leave her side too.

I guess I’d be watching fireworks later at the big window near the nurses’ station.

If im starting my year crying, will I be crying the whole year?

I need a lot of strength but I just don’t wanna share this with Sakura and my friends, it’ll ruin their celebratory air. I just don’t wanna be a social vampire.

“Merry Christmas, Louee”

After the stress week, exam days, bum mode, pimple days, eye bag galore, talking-to-myself-memorizing-and-absorbing-not-so -clear-topic hours, dozing off anywhere, doing-reviewers obsession, the i-don’t-mind-if-i-seem-wasted look and the off-to-exam-in-a-minute cramming, I finally had my taste of good sleep (in my dictionary I define it as the sleep when you get the savour of not thinking anything for tomorrow, the no-worry-ZZZZ ; no time range) for 4 hours last Sunday. Upon my arrival at the hospital (for my mother was sick, but she’s fine now) my brother Josh and a friend Khaizyn asked me to chill out, some sibling revelry and quality time with Khai. I was damn broke but I agreed, and it was expected, for he told me that he was going to pay for my expenses.

So then my brother Josh told me that we would go shopping for our Christmas allowance was given. The moment I saw the lump of cash, there was one place that registered to my head. BOOKSTORE. Without further ado, I grabbed my share, walked past the crowd not minding if they were following or not. I almost ran to the National Bookstore, for I remembered the display having a copy of Brisingr. I was drooling over that book for almost a year and every bookstore I get to ask is out of stock. And so it was my chance, I had to get my hands on that book, it’s the third sequel of Christopher Paolini and I direly need to have it.It was sort of a rush when I came there that I tripped on the carpet, and to my horror, Brisingr was not on the display. It was my instinct to run through the pile on my luck that it would be there misplaced or been hidden by another prospect buyer. But NO. It was gone, I asked the staff if they still have the book on stock or the display was the last, and it shattered me when they replied the latter. A staff said that I was bought just minutes before I came in. DAMN. I hated the part that it was almost mine. And so to cure my annoyance i flipped through every sounds-good paperback or hard bound books there, reading plots and summaries, weighing the authors name (popularity of course, was part of my standards haha), and the process took me hours.

Then I remembered, OH MY GOSH I LEFT MY PHONE AT THE HOSPITAL! There was no way that the two guys are going to contact me! I know the way back home but of course I need to find them, or they need to find me at all cost, or else, we’ll all be reprimanded for my so careless “Adrenaline Rush”. But good thing Khaizyn knew where to find me, or maybe I know where to find him.. err… I think, it should be, you’ll find us in the same place—in the bookstores. Just then that I turned around to look for the familiar face, he waved at me and said, “hey Louee, why on the rush kanina? You needed to go to the bathroom or something? Kanina pa kita napapansin sa section na yan, nabasa mo na ata lahat ng books dyan…hahaha, by the way, i’ll be at that section in a minute… may hanapin lang ako…” then he disappeared on the shelves. Okay I was relieved. After hours of contemplating of what books to buy I decided that my major buy for this ‘book shopping’ would be Her Fearful Symmetry by Audrey Niffeneger, her second book since her other great novel, The Time Traveler’s Wife(a must read for those who haven’t read it yet). Her Fearful Symmetry was released just this October and I think it was a great find for a frustrated “Brisingr buyer”. I bought two other books with the help of Khaizyn who had also been my great reading-mate for a long time or so that he knew what type of plots I like. He also bought a book he regarded as a saviour for his dull life moments hahaha! Three books for the Christmas break, not bad for the exasperated. After the hours of flipping through soon-to-wear-out pages, unshelfing books that were once piled up straight and satisfying the hungry mind, we decided to have dinner. After that, I felt like my psyche and stomach are now full but still unsatisfied, still bitter with the book. And then we strolled a little bit to look for gifts and to buy “physicals” (the term me and Khai use for referring to shirts, dress, jeans etc… the wearables) and at 9 pm we decided to get home. We arrived at the hospital at 12 am. Me and Khai bade goodbye to my parents and to my brother for Josh was staying there for the night.

At the gate of our house, I was ready to wave and thank him for taking me home, but then he stopped me and said “Louee, I forgot to tell you something..”. I was waiting like crazy. I felt like it’s been so long before he said a thing then he blew it up. “Okay Ms. Trip-anywhere, I know you’re all annoyed this afternoon and..” then I interrupted,“okay Khai straight to the point ..”. “Louee,didn’t you notice I wasn’t around when Josh handed you the money? I was at the bookstore that time when we passed by, I saw Brisingr and I bought it fast because I know you want take it…” then he handed me the book. I was like so hysterical I didn’t know what to say, I almost cried for no reason, I felt so happy! Very HAPPY! I was lost for words for about a minute then I hugged him. For the moment I felt like I didn’t want to let him go, and he whispered “One book makes you happy what more if we’re still together? I’m so glad nothing changed, well  if the future won’t bring us two together, you would still have a special inch in my heart. We may be of limited reach on the following years, but if time would be right for us we’ll be more than what we are right now. Let’s just enjoy this moment. Merry Christmas Louee.” With that we parted, not sure when we’ll see each other again.

Our personal statuses may have been changed, but between us two nothing changed. Nothing would. You said you’ll be back someday, after a long time and you and I hope – that so do WE. Good luck on your career boy, see you on your success!

Ang tipo kong Presidentiable.

Botante na ko sa wakas.

At syempre unang pagboto ko to at bigla akong nacorner ni Dad nung isang gabi insisting ang mga kandidato na gusto niya iboto.

Gusto niyang iboto. Ako ayoko.

Hindi pa naman ako mahilig makipagdebate pag mga ganyan, so I kept to myself who I am voting for this coming election. So to cut it short, I just said yes to dad’s “list”, with him unknowingly na I have my own list of candidates which I am rooting for, mga kandidatong sa tingin ko e magaling at para sa posisyon na yun.Well how ’bout you?

Kahit pa dating president siya na nalitis kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa maaga ang campaign ads niya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa maraming artista sa advertisement niya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa iba ang relihiyon niya kesa sa kin kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa hindi sya topnotcher sa bar kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa wala syang party o meron man kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa opposition sya ngayon kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa taga administration sya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa anak at kadikit siya ng maiimpluwensyang tao kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa bilyon (o trilyon) ang pera niya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa maraming issue na nababato sa kanya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa hindi sya magaling mag english kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa pabago- bago ang isip nya sa puwestong tatakbuhan kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa artista sya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa pamilya sila ng mga politiko kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa bisexual sya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa laking mayaman o mahirap sya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa medyo bata sya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa medyo may katandaan na siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa maybahay lang siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa mejo hindi siya photogenic kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa sports figure siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa journalist siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa hindi sya marunong magdala ng damit kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa may sarili siyang designer kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa marami siyang rancho kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa marami syang anak sa kung kani-kanino kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa may kabit siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa baog siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa wala siyang anak o asawa kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa nagpasex change siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa retokado ang buong pagkatao niya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa marami syang nasingko o kung marami man siyang naunoo na subject kung sa tingin ko ay
magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa pangit ang boses niya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa gwapo at “papa”ble siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa wala siyang kotse kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa mayaman na siya sa Farmville kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa poseur sya sa Facebook or Friendster, or MySpace etc. kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa naka wig lang sya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa pustiso na ang lahat ng ngipin niya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa korni sya magpatawa kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa may balat sya sa pwet kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa nagmumura lagi ang mga alahas niya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

Kahit pa obese siya kung sa tingin ko ay magaling sya, iboboto ko siya

in short, kung sino man, ano man o kahit ano pa man ang tingin niyo sa bet ko, kung sa tingin ko, kung sa pagkakakilatis ko, magaling sya … IBOBOTO KO SIYA.


Kung wala rin naman sa mga tatakbo ang sa tingin ko ay magiging magaling na PRESIDENTE…


Di ko na ieexplain kung pano ko masasabing magaling ang isang tao, siguro hindi pa sa ngayon o niloloko ko lang kayo na wala akong definition ng ‘magaling’, but either way. wala akong pake kung ayaw niyo sa bet ko basta ako. siya bobotoko.

May sari- sarili tayong definition at pananaw kung sino ang magaling kaya sarilinin ko na lang yung akin.


Genetics or Zoology?

It’s a dilemma. No not really. But I really like genetics, or maybe I really love the way Prof. Mendioro delivers the lectures, but Dr. De Guia, does well too. I’m so torn right now and I have to beat the deadline.

But performance-wise in Genetics vs. Zoology I do well in my Zoology class way better. I don’t know if it’s really that engaging or is it really easy or if I’m really for Zoology.

Plus Zoology takes the core courses that can be of help in my plan of going into medschool, but Genetics can also take those courses, but as an elective.

But I guess it’s Zoology then.

Impending end.

Khaizyn just told me about his job offer from Canada.

I just didn’t know what to say, what to feel, what to do. I told him that I am in no position to hinder him from going there. I am his girlfriend yes, but I guess that should not stop him. I don’t want to be someone who ruined someone’s dream. I did cry when he told me about it. But a part of me is happy. But a part is also sad, because I know I have to break up with him.

I just don’t believe in the sturdiness of long distance relationships. I believe that for a relationship this young (with young I mean about a year) I believe we still have a lot of fights to have, lots of short break ups lots of understanding to get through to be able to withstand a long distance relationship.

Of course, I don’t want a break up. He’s my first.  But it just would feel a lot more painful if we’d break up when he’s already there. I need to talk to him about this. It hurts so much just thinking about it. What more when I’m already there?

I told dad about it, hoping for an advice. But he said. “I will not tell you what to do, your relationship, you decide. Whatever you two think is best, is what I’ll think would be best too.”

I wanna cry.

CHEM 160.

I don’t know how I should feel right now. I’m studying pathways. I should be memorizing. Oh no. I should not be memorizing I should be understanding these.

Lately I’m very distracted. My mom’s going back and forth the hospital. And instead of concentrating on these pathways i’m busy exhausting myself about going back and forth Los Banos and this hospital. I can’t just resist the urge to go home. I want to be where mom is. Though yes I can study at this wee hours but it’s really exhausting too.

I’m too busy minding my presence beside her than my academics. I’m not really sure if i’m doing well this semester.

I hope I am. I’ll get through this.

Of Botany, Physics, Organic Chemistry and Microbiology

Well this semester is soooooooo just full of a lot of things. Heap of paper works and tons of physical activities. It was tiring, but I sure did have lots of memories to keep and retell someday.

Lemme roll it up then!


Well the most precious moment I had been the last Lab Exam because I got the highest score in our class. It was a first for me because it was the first exam ever that I felt I really knew the answers. And I answered correctly that I can even remember the items I missed. HAHA. Well thing is I did stay up late reviewing pictures of specimens and their attributes. Well another thing is that our Dr. Cabrera is an alumnus of my academic org and when he announced that I was the topnotcher the actually tapped my back saying “Good job, sis ko to!”. WAAAH just waah. Being recognized by an alumnus was a lot of boost for me, to think I’m not really that active yet with UP CELLS. Oh well as I have said, I’ll make up for the lost times someday. And how I really wish it would be sooner.


How would you feel if you have a seatmate who seldom go to class, sleeps beside you in class and is often late and damn right fuckery he gets the highest scores in the exam? HAHAH. Oh well, I do not envy him, maybe a little, I actually am amazed. Hihi and a bit smitten because he actually looks good. HAHAHHAHA. Not crushing on him, he’s the friendly weird type it’s just fun having him around. And what a real gentleman he is too. Cheers to your being genuis and good looks *ahem* Jaime! Or maybe I really am attracted to his intelligence, is there something like that? Oh well. It’s a roller coaster semester, knowing how I despise physics ever. I was literally crawling to get through Physics. But oh well. I passed. 🙂 Damn that first 3 on my card.


This subject is just so awesome. I can clearly remember the Biuret test giving a purple solution. And voilà!! My unknown sample was protein. And if you just know the map, then you’ll know how lucky I am because it’s a second branch on the map. I didn’t have to fuss to a lot of tests just to know my sample. :)) This subject was also fun because we had a cool teacher teaching us! Sir Melo! Hehe an alumnus from my highschool. 😀 I never knew difficult subjects would ever be easy just because I had an awesome instructor teaching it. 🙂


Oh god. I can’t say anything more about Microbiology. It’s a nightmare. HAHAHAH. Not really, it’s interesting but you know I really get nervous at times and remembering my practical exam here just gave me sorta déjà vu of my Chem 16 practical exam. HAHAHAHA. Anyway. It’s really a cool subject. But no matter how cool and interesting microbiology is, it just didn’t convince me to ever major on it. :))))))

A part of something.

I am now part of something finally.

Something real, something of a lifetime.

An organization. No more highschool club feels. Real tasks, real events, real people.

I’m beginning to see the start of the life that I’ve been looking forward to since I stepped in college.

I do hope I’ll be one of those who makes a difference after I graduate in college. One of those looked up Alumna, ’cause you know, I’m not really special in any way, but I do believe that with Microfilaments beside me, we’ll rock UP CELLS like they’ve never been rocked before.

Well… joining this academic organization just had me many firsts. No I’m not really gonna enumerate all, but just to some it up, the application process opened my eyes, my mind to a different culture, a culture I didn’t even know that I am about to embrace or maybe just chameleon on.

My first medical mission last August 28 was a divine experience. Though all I did was to take temperatures and weights it felt good, no. It felt great. Felt great that in some way I can help people in my little deeds. It was fun. Really fun. It makes me wanna be a doctor fast. What a motivation.

Anyway, I believe I haven’t given my all yet for this organization. I’m always away. Maybe I’m still a bit shy or what. I don’t know but I really want to learn how to reach out. I hope so. I’m not really that confident to start with, I have issues, I’m awkward. I’m too good. I don’t know. Someday UP CELLS.

Give me time, to sort my issues and stuffs.

I’ll make it up to you someday. I sure will.