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Showing posts from 2010


I thought it was over. That the memories from my past won't give me nightmares anymore. It made me calm for the past four years. Four quiet years that helped me heal. I've dealt with almost killing myself, to overdosing myself with alcohol. To trying to kill my lungs with nicotine till I could barely breathe. But who was I kidding? I was only giving myself a slow and painful death. But what was I to do? I tried all sorts of remedies. But to no avail. I am tired. Tired of how things are going. Then suddenly, after four quiet years, I receive an email about this person who used to haunt my dreams till I could force myself to close my eyes at night. And now, this dream haunts me yet again. And now, I could barely keep myself awake. For I am afraid it might haunt me in my sleep. Why can't it be over? Right now its being replaced by someone new. Yet, again, the same waltz is playing. Dragging on and on. When will it end?
I am plagued by the nightmares that barely reaches my inne…

Mistakes, Mess, Errors and Whatever Else It's Called

We make them. Great, small, huge, tiny, damaging, and whatever else you might call it. Sometimes, we do it intentionally, and most of the times unintentional. This year, I have made quite a few mistakes in my life that cannot be rectified nor erased. But I do not regret making them or having them in my life. I had the biggest epic fail in my entire educational life. And it was all because of a few errors.
I tried to go against the flow and tried to prove once and for all, falling in love doesn't have to be dictated or it's free like the river. You may like whoever you want to like, go out with that person and try to defy gravity. But it has a price. An inevitable expensive price you pay later on. Like a credit card, it will accumulate and will send you a letter indicating that you have to pay as soon as possible. Painful isn't it? I wanted to prove everyone else, by talking, hanging out, or even seeing this person, that love was right, meant to be. But no. Because it was a…

On Being Courageous

There are a lot of ways to show courage. Some may show it when they are already in the face of danger. Some muster their courage when they are about to tell someone that they love them after all these years. But being courageous also meant, you are willing to admit you're sorry.

I have never seen my father so disappointed with me. I admit, it was my fault, when I actually said something I wasn't suppose to say in the first place. My actions were miscalculated and my words out of bounds. On the ride back to work, it took me 15 minutes. 15 MINUTES!!! To muster the courage to say sorry. Sorry that I went out of line. But my dad, like all fathers, hugged me back and said it was okay, that what I did, happened for a reason. I could only respond with tears in my eyes.

As I write this, tears are still falling. I am courageous enough to cry even though when I am already beyond my age, but I am still sorry for not being courageous enough to tell my father how deeply sorry I was. 15 minut…

At the Heart of Arts and Culture

The other day, hours before the concert of the Philippine Philharmonic Orchestra began, I wandered off through the floors of the Cultural Center of the Philippines. I was in awe as I walked along the paintings lining the walls of the building. Studying each stroke, each hue, I found myself lost amongst the colors that struck a chord in my heart. I ask myself, what was the artist feeling when he painted this piece? After looking at the paintings I went one floor up where the museum was. It was a place where one could find his or her roots. Looking at the pieces from behind glass cases, I was amazed at how our country has so many riches to impart to us. But sadly, our generation has forgotten. Gone are the days when one would use the gamelan and the gongs to produce music, or the gitara or the rondalla. Now its rock music here, sentimental music there, pop music everywhere. Our traditional music, almost gone with the changing times. A few more steps and I was in a place where folk dance…


We all have our different tastes... A different take on clothes, gadgets, books and even food. That includes desserts. Like most of the Filipinos, I grew up to be a Goldilocks kid. My birthday cakes would come from Goldilocks and even that irresistible polvoron and caramel popcorn. When there are times I would feel down and out, I will grab my bag and wallet and catch a jeep going to SM North where the Goldilocks store would greet me at the entrance.

Katulad din ng nakararami, I too, underwent a change... a pagbabago. When I was in college, I was the shy-type, not really minding my looks and how I walk. And it was in this period where I met a man whom I thought would be my mate for an entire lifetime. He was cool, good-looking and confident. He complimented my simplicity as something to his style. Little did I know, he had a dark side to his "somewhat-saintly ways". He began abusing me, both physically and emotionally. When we both separated ways after the incident, I underw…

Choices v. Decisions

This evening while walking home, kindness gave me a ride. While on my way home, walking through darkness and rows of condominiums, a tricycle stopped and the driver asked me if I would like a ride home. I said sure, why not? I was heading that way anyway. As the tricycle rolled by I started fishing for my wallet to pay the man for his kindness in giving me a lift home. When the tricycle stopped in front of the store where tricycles were posted I took out my wallet and I started to look for spare change. The driver smiled and told me that it was free, I no longer had to pay. I smiled and thanked him profusely. On my trek home, I can't help but wonder over the decision the driver had to make to give me a lift. Was it easy? Or was it hard to make?
Connecting it with my life, in the course of it, I was asked, so many times, how come I am still single?

Good question though. Was it a personal choice or a decision?
Looking back, it was a decision I had to make. Was there another choice? Of …

...walking alone a lonely road

As I write this I listen to a song that I hope someday would be sung to me. I ask myself, when will it happen? I wonder when someone will really have the courage to ask my father and ask for his flower and give her a bouquet. I also wonder if someday, someone will ask for me, my father's princess and make me his queen? I don't want to sound jealous, but I do envy my older sister. She could get everything she could want when it comes to guys. People would be telling me how lucky I could be or the guy. But where is he? Why is he blinded by material things or superficial elements that make up a girl?

Every time I hear someone liking me, I ask myself when will he have the guts to just ask and tell me himself instead of someone telling me instead? Does he have any idea how painful it could be for me? To be lied and joked or played with? I am not a toy. I am also a human being. I have feelings too.

Last night, I had the most meaningful conversation with a friend. Talking about this w…

Who is your Super ONE and why?

My Super ONE is my Grandma...

Right now, she's residing at the Land Down Under with my other uncles and aunts. This photo, which was taken around May of last year was a photo of me and my Nanay (as we fondly call her) 24 years after she migrated to Australia. She came to visit us last year and announced upon her arrival: "Apo, let's go to South Korea! I want to see where they shoot Winter Sonata!"

After that epic trip to Seoul, Nanay still calls us every now and then and writes to us. And would you believe at the age of 82 she surfs the internet? After our youngest sister taught her how, Nanay couldn't get off the net!

I just wish she's here right now... I miss spending midnights with her watching her Koreanovellas and her war time stories (she survived both the 2 World Wars). The good thing is, Globe recently launched Super One... this is a sure way for me and Nanay to still stay connected despite the distance and time difference.

Not For Sale

Sunny side-up with ham and butter on toast. Baked.
Fresh raspberry lemonade, cool morning breeze.

You catch my attention, gathering dust
under heat
Behind walls.

Echoes of pebbles under the train.
Station to station.
Reminds me of the subway ride from Upper East Side to Manhattan.

I wanted to go near you. Touch you.
But sadly you're no longer up for grabs.

Destination arrival time read eight past one
and I walk away.

MTR rewind

Passing cars, pedestrians...
Red light. Green light.
Thermals rising through the air
I catch a glimpse of a stranger, sea of faces swirling smoke

I close my eyes, hoping for a moment to catch a fragment of your smile.
maybe, just maybe, just for a second.

Its 30 minutes past noon.
Walkways, pathways, a few minutes of cold air.
Hurrying footsteps here and there.
Shadow of people fading.

Train arrives, 9 3/4.

Echoes over the PA system.
Next station, Buendia Station...

interchange station to the Bel-Air line, doors will open on the right.
I smile.

In these shoes? I don't think so...

Every girl loves shoes... It's one of those must-haves. A perfect pair that would be a match to a perfect outfit. Like every girl, I too have a love for shoes, especially boots. Every time I would visit the mall and go to a shoe store, the first thing that I gaze lovingly upon are boots. Boots of all shapes, color, texture and sizes. From your ankle-high ones to the almost to your knee-length boots. And boy do I have a story to tell myself.

My first pair of boots were bought in Hong Kong. And before I could even possess one, my sister and I went from one store to another (which we also did in Macau, but unluckily, the pair we wanted wasn't in Macau). If you're in Hong Kong, be prepared for the long walk (and when I mean long, it's really long). We had to go catch the MTR (or MRT counterpart) and get from one station to another, then walk a LONG walk to the stores. And mind you, I was literally drooling over boots upon entering the store. I have actually ran in those boo…