On Saving the Little Things

I found it both funny and disappointing at the same time, how I wrote short pieces in the past, some questions, or some phrases that stroke a chord, that I never had the chance to go back to once again, to amplify and express how those flakes of thought meant to me during different points in time. It’s funny how this just confirmed how strikingly thoughtless, maybe, I have been becoming. It’s thoughtless in the sense that important experiences lay lesser meaning each day because of the apparent deprivation of constant reflection, an activity renowned for its magic in stretching experiences, giving life to the meager and the mediocre. It’s disappointing how each day, at least to me, is shrunk down to mere flakes that hold little to no taste, because of my own doing, how I let only blocks of words, or perhaps a picture or two, depict a day. It’s even a greater shame when milestones and significant events seemed to taste now as low as the others. I’m problematizing this because my memory is poor. Many would look at a word, a phrase, or a picture, and see a flash of memories along with it. To me, it also does the same effect. I see flashes. Feel it as it flashes. But, I wanted to see the little things as well, the things that brought light and beauty or even darkness to a day. I’m not doing this. I’m not taking pictures of the little things. I’m not writing down all the little things. If the little things are valuable to me, should I start attempting to immortalize those from now on, and sleep in peace, knowing that any important bits and details of memory won’t slip away from me? Or should I let it be, because this is just the way things should be? The ones that made us feel the extremes would stay longer. The ones we built that added colors and shade to the extremes sometimes slip away from us forever. 



On forgetting

It’s 2:05 am and I can’t sleep. Really, what’s new? I haven’t been visiting nor updating this blog for a while now, which is terrible on my part because I promised myself that I will be updating more frequently. It’s just that, I’ve been up to a lot of things lately. How I wish that I’ve wrote down something out of every, I guess, ‘groundbreaking’ experiences that I’ve encountered these past few months. Well, at least to me, they are groundbreaking. I can’t exactly say that I felt empowered for the most part, but I can say that I did learn a lot. If this doesn’t make sense to you, I can’t say if I made this intentionally this way so that I wouldn’t have to explain, or it’s just the way I want this to be. Anyway, why am I here? I need to vomit some words. 

I’ve been having troubles with communicating lately. With family. Friends. Myself. It’s like I’ve lost my way with words. I can’t find the right words to say, and so I let the silence fill everything important that I’m forgetting to say. I don’t know. Everything lately is all over the place. Even writing this piece feels like a complete burden. :(( I’m very pissed off because I can’t do anything productive or anything beautiful with this buzzing feeling. It’s like I’m forgetting to make beauty. It’s like I’m forgetting to make sense of everyday. It’s like I’m forgetting how to be really alive. I need, hmm, love, maybe? But I’ve been having lots of those everyday but still I feel this way.

I don’t know. I’m hoping to get better, soon. If you are with me, can we do it together? Can we pull ourselves up, gradually, together?

after sunsets

Let me remember how,
I find sunsets both dazzling,
and calming, at the same time
and I’ll tell you how
I pretend that sunsets do not exist now – – –
not through my senses,
not in my memory.
I wonder how
such beauty caresses a sting
on my furtive soul;
how can it bruise me too badly,
that I can still feel
the pain that it brought,
until now?
Can this pain, better be a scar,
at last?
I’m weary,
of embracing,
all the soreness, and
all the throbbing.
Wouldn’t you believe,
that such belle
would draw such wounds?
We often fall prey
to the hands of the graceful
and the comely.
Who wouldn’t?
Who would know that underneath it all,
we’re all inside the same unkempt
and broken home,
constantly looking for something,
and someone to love,
searching for healing,
needing attention,
and redemption.
But with all these wanting,
comes hurting.

All things beautiful, it seems,
may wrench us everytime – – –
even sunsets,
to which I fell in love with,
after deciding to gaze at one for too long;
in fact, I gazed at one far too long
that it end up hurting me.
I always keep it in me,
how it made my heart busy
beating like a drum, again, and again;
how, I searched for every shaft of light there is in it,
for I thought it was prettier,
and brighter, that way;
how I chased after it,
even after absolute darkness
sweeps it away.
I believe I will always be,
looking for that light
even after I decided not to see one again.

Dear You, 

You and I may pretend that nothing ever happened between us, but please still know that I miss you so much. I miss everything, and I’m not sure until when am I going to miss you. I understand that you had reasons. It dawned on me too, not soon after, that I couldn’t hate you for too long, even after all the things that I came across about the things that you did, because I loved you, and I think I still love you, until now. I do not understand what happened, at all. I wanted to forget you, but somehow I cannot, hence, this entry. I’m in the hopes that it will help me move on from all the memory that you left me. I really can’t understand why I still think about you all the time, despite not seeing you anywhere anymore. It’s confusing to think about you, because it makes me happy, sad, and angry, all at the same time. But, most of the time, at least, thinking about you makes me happy, and maybe that’s why, somehow, I can’t stop. 

A rush of words that may or may not help

Time Check: 10:55 pm

Hi! I am just noticing that a lot of people are struggling real hard these days (with acads, work, and many other aspects), which is sad. My love language has always been physical. I’m quite good with words of affirmation however, I can only do a lot on print. I always couple all my spoken words of affirmation with physical touch because it just simply feels better. Anyway, I’m clingy and cuddly, and seeing all the people around me who are struggling or in pain is overwhelming to me. I want to hug them all at once, but understanding that not all people are fond of that, I just choose to do it to people who openly needs it. I also need a hug right now huhu. But you, you especially, needs a hug. You, who is broken and in pain. We deserve to be happy. Allow yourself to experience that by taking a break. I’m blessed to have people around me who are very encouraging and motivating, and so I am transferring this blessing to you. Stay strong, and keep going!

OK again and missing something

I figured out that I’m very good at cramming responsibly these past few days. I’m becoming more self-aware now of my limits, and I’m very thankful because this is always a good thing. So, why am I here? As usual, I don’t have an agenda for putting up many blog entries. Notice that most of my entries just turn out very messy and unstructured. But, anyway, I think I like it better this way, because it is reflective of my personality – – – how random, and haha, completely crazy I am. But, believe me, it is just my thoughts that are scattered. The things I own are decently organized. I keep records, I have a journal (although it takes so long for me to update it) , I put labels for a lot of my things, and also, most importantly, I rarely ever lose things. I lose things usually when my brain is at it peak of being squeezed too much. And I hate seeing mess, that’s why my destressing technique is to organize the things around me, and clean my space. It makes me happy when things around me are organized. It gives me the perception that my life is in order, still, and there’s still hope in everything although I feel such a mess, in reality. I want to pick myself together, piece by piece, and I want it ASAP haha. Because, it’s already hellweek. And I’m still stuck, and unmotivated, for some reason. My brain is just full of very, very trivial things, and it just don’t want to stop thinking about those. It seems like everyday, I just keep on adding new unnecessary information in my brain that I find myself being fixated to. I find it weird that I’m dealing with this issue at this important part of the semester.

Anywayyyy, my purpose. Are you noticing a pattern? I only post here when I’m sad or angry or excited or lonely. I can’t understand why I can’t write when I’m happy. Some people can, and I envy that so much. Forgive me for not blogging often. I take it as somewhat of a good sign, because that would mean that I’m happy, most days, right? I admit that I’m happy, in most days. I’m a very optimistic person, I can’ t help it, but the other reason why I’m not writing anymore is because I’m so caught up with university, volunteer work, organization work, and relationships. I’m so caught up with these things because they also make me happy. They put a lot of sense into my life. I hope that I can share why these things make me happy someday. No, I have to make it happen, and I have to be specific to do that. According to the motivation theory, the likelihood of doing a certain thing is higher when you make your goals more specific. So, I’m going to set up specific goals for myself to finally publish a myriad of happy entries.

I’m obviously not happy today, though. But, I’m not sad either. I just want to put here that I miss having slow, meaningful conversations. These days are just too fast for me. So many things keep happening in a snap. So many small talks. I just want to really talk with people, so much. I miss the intimacy of quiet, unrushed moments when the only sounds that we hear are coming from all the stories that we share. I miss all the tears, from happiness, or from despair, or frustration, or anger. I miss talking. I miss crying so much. I can’t cry these days because I have to be strong, since it’s hell week and there’s no time to be emotional.

If I cry, I lose, because that’s what always happen. I’ll keep fighting and I am keeping a promise to myself that I would not ever cry, again no matter what happens. Not when the semester has not yet ended. I’m going to keep a hold of myself. Or perhaps I miss the warmth of inom haha. I always tell myself that I won’t ever drink again but I keep doing it anyway, because things just keep happening.

By the way, I’m OK now. My last entry has been so bitter, but now, I’m OK, truly. Bitter feelings, to me, are supposed to be fleeting only. I should not allow it to change my character. I’ve learned, and that’s what matters to me. But learning doesn’t guarantee that we will not make the same mistakes again, right? I wrote this on our organization’s logbook. See, I’m all over the place. I’m a person who has a lot of inner banter inside, so I feel like writing, I write. Anywhere. Anytime. If I hold it back, I’ll explode. I’m saying that there’s always that possibiliy that I’ll make the same mistakes again, because, I know myself. I’m not very careful. I always see the beauty and everything, no matter how shitty people and things get. I always believe that people/things can’t really get this bad. But, I am always wrong. Also, however, I keep believing anyway maybe because this idealistic, starry-eyed creature in me still have faith in love and humanity. This consequently makes me very vulnerable to deception. You know, I feel like the universe is punishing me for being very naive, but I am too rebellious to actually learn. I am still very confused.

In Erik Erikson’s Psychosocial Development Theory, I’m still in the struggle of identity vs. role confusion (wow, I can’t believe that I’m actually dragging this into my drama), partly because I’m 19 yrs. old, but mainly because I just feel that I still don’t know what else I really want in life. I want to be a teacher, that’s for sure, but what else? What plans should I make? What paths should I am to take? How many are there? You see, I’d like to have a life that makes sense that’s why I can’t let a day pass without making or doing something important to myself and to the people around me. However, I feel like I’m doing myself a great disservice by not putting my all into everything I do. I feel like I’m easily exhausted when I have given so much into one thing that another thing gets left out. I don’t want that. Am I overthinking way too much on things haha? I think I am. You can disagree on a lot of points here. I’m undecided about most things.

So, long entry short, I am missing intimacy in real conversations. I understand that I can’t get this now given that my head is full and buzzing with requirements and I’m just longing for a long, carefree sleep (btw, I think I have insomnia). I’m slowly fulfilling this need through random chats and texts to the people I care about, and somehow, they make me feel better. Another important point that I want to reiterate: I’ m OK. slightsmile emoticon I don’t hate myself. I am back to my happy, excited and hopeful me. What happened is just an important phase that we all have to get through. If you’ve read up to here, I want to let you know that you are loved, by many people, however, ultimately, self-love is important so learn to appreciate yourself better each day by not beating yourself too much, or by planting insecurities in your heart by comparing yourself to other people. I’m saying this because I realized that many people who are close to me are struggling with the same battles. We are always struggling with ourselves, right? Know that it’s OK and things would turn out better, always.


This poem is written after the death of a relative, who is beloved dearly by many, especially my cousin, who was deeply wounded upon her death. 

Hindi pa rin sanay ang puso mo tuwing umaga sa pag-alala na hinding-hindi mo na siya mahahawakan sa iyong tabi

Nasanay ka na, na sa iyong bawat paggising, ang malambing na tinig niya ang parati mong unang naririnig
Na mga haplos niya ang unang dumadampa sa iyong gunita na halos parating hilo at lito mula sa maghapong pag-inom
Na mga labi niya ang unang dumadapli sa iyong makasalanang templo, na hindi mo maigalaw sa magdamag na pagtakbo at pagsigaw
Siya, siya, siya ang parating nauuna.
Siya, at siya, simula pa noong una.

Hindi mo na alam kung ilang araw at gabi ka na bang nangungulila
Apat? Labinlima? Singkwenta?
Ang alam mo lang ay nag-aantay ka pa,
Na sa bawat pagkurap mo ay inaasahan mong nandyan sa siyang muli, na buhay at nakatitig muli sa iyo ang tila ngumingiti niyang mga mata
Na isang hakbang lang ay amoy mo na ang pamilyar na tiyak na parati mong akap-akap
Na isang tapik lang ay tiwala ka na siya iyon
Walang iba kung hindi siya.

Gabi-gabi mo nang inaantay ang pagbalik niya

Gabi-gabi ka na ring nalulunod sa pagtungga
Gabi-gabing umiiyak
Gabi-gabing nangungulila.

Hindi mo alam kung hanggang ito kailan
Hindi mo alam kung hanggang saan pa ang kaya mong mararating sa paghahanap sa kanya.

Ngunit alam mo naman, hindi ba?
Umiling ka, at bumarik muli ng isa pang baso.