Mga Post

august twenty-five twenty-nineteen

Imahe
It's okay to not be part of someone else's story. You have your own.  In your story, you can continue facing the elevator walls to avoid eye contact with other people. You can always listen to loud music through your earphones when you have no choice but to sit with others during lunch. You can always go out of the office building through the fire exit finding peace with the dark and quiet staircase.  It's okay to go against the plot that is written by the people around you. You may be the antagonist in their story, but you are the protagonist of your own. In your story, you can always find peace and happiness in your lonely, taking deep breaths and finding  comfort all by yourself. And that's completely okay.  x

july ten twenty-nineteen

Imahe
        This was me on top of the Gungal Rock at Mt. Ulap. It was so high I remember myself really nervous, and my feet felt like they're freezing due to the height and the fact that for just 10 seconds of being stupid, I might fall for how many meters above sea levels. But I thought that time, if I won't do it this time, when?  That was weeks ago, and it's exactly what I'm questioning myself right now. If I do not focus on my family right now, when? If I do not do good in my job right now, when? And if I do not care for myself to heal from all the negativities around me, when? I'm writing this because there really are times when I find it hard to focus on my family, care for my job, and care for myself all at the same time. No matter what I do, everything just seems to be out-of-balanced and I always end up blaming myself for not being good enough to be good at everything I do. And if I won't take actions to balance all those, when will I be at peace

april sixteen twenty-nineteen

Do not look down on me just because you know a certain English word and I don't. Do not look down on me just because you've watch that famous movie and I don't. Do not look down on me just because you know how to use chopsticks and I don't. Do not look down on me just because you are wearing pretty dress and heels when I'm just in my t-shirt and jeans. Do not look down on me just because you're "classy" when I am here loud and laughing trying to make everybody happy. Do not look down on me just because you've been visiting countries and I'm in my dorm trying to figure out how to make ends meet with my hard-earned money. Do not look down on me just because you regularly chats with your boyfriend when I am here still fucking single! I don't care about everything you have right now, honey. I don't care about your expensive clothes, your rebonded hair, your imported perfumes nor your hi-tech gadgets. I don't care about your

march twelve twenty nineteen

There's no reason, there's no rhyme I found myself blindsided by A feeling that I've never known I'm dealing with it on my own Phone is quiet, walls are bare I drink myself to sleep, who cares? No one even has to know I'm dealing with it on my own DAMN BECAUSE IT'S A STRANGE FEELING THAT SHE CAN'T IGNORE! Is it love? No. It's just a petty crush. Is it really deep? No. It's just petty, like a happy crush. A happy crush. A HAPPY CRUSH! But she's not happy. She's not happy. SHE IS NOT HAPPY. Damn, because she feels overjoyed when he's around even though she feels uncomfortable. And now that she can't be with him, it's just too unfair that he's living his life without heavy baggage and here she is, being crazy seeing him in every person she is with and talks to and in every thing that used to be connected to him. Damn because no one knows about this and she's scared that anyone

march nine twenty nineteen

I feel like I'm trapped with the things that I am doing now and not with the things that I am supposed to do. My dreams are locked up somewhere deep within me that I know I should be getting, but there is always something in me that is just ignoring those possibilities because I know my own ability. I am someone who wants this, but can't do this. Someone who doesn't like that, but still can be found doing that. People say those who never take risks are cowards and will never be successful and will never be genuinely happy in life for they will never be satisfied with the things they don't really like in the first place. But what if I know my own self despite of all confusions? That I can excel on the things I am now doing and not on the things I am passionate about? What if I excel on the things I put my time and effort to, not on the things I'm supposed to be doing which is what was expected of me and what everyone else is doing? I am a woman in her twenti

Bathroom Door

You peek from the inside of the bathroom door You wandered your eyes to see who knocked, until you lower down your sight And saw me, with my milk bottle now lying on the green rag underneath the door. You smiled and pinched my nose You pick me up then carry me inside Our laughs echoed the bathroom as we splashed water to each other. . . . You peek from the outside of the door as I struggle putting off my pajama My short legs cannot even reach the lid of the toilet bowl You laughed and messed up my hair “Let me carry you up, honey!” I let you carry me up, wait for you to leave me but you stayed, and sing to me instead A song that you also sang to my sisters every bathroom time. . . . You knocked on the door Twice... thrice … a couple of hurrying knocks and repeatedly calling my name You pushed the door and went inside when I didn’t answer. I quickly hid the fabric on my back then heaved a nervous, “Ma…” . . You threw me a teasing lo

Strange

You came just when I needed you. You stole my blank paper and filled it with lovely scribbles of Us. Visited my most hidden place where I used to be all alone; then painted my walls of various colors of Us until I've forgotten how to go back on my own self where dark prevails over radiance of the outside world. You tattooed your name on my ring finger and placed it over my heart. The scarf you lend me during that stormy night lies on the bed. Its smell is You. The color is as red as the flaring fire of my desire for you. Have you ever been a song? You are! Your voice is a complete masterpiece though sweetness I can't find still commands this heart to dance on every"follow-me", on every"you're-not-all-I-need", on every wound I bleed. I once traded my happiness over whatever it is your melody can offer. But I guess loving you is the strangest thing that has