Posted in Thoughts, Writing

Reconciling My Life and Memories

Have you ever felt like you’re living in a world that only you can understand? Sometimes life gets to me like that. It feels like I have a lot of things going on in my head and in my life but it doesn’t feel like the people and my surroundings are affected at all. They say it’s just me being my introverted self but in reality, this is something that even I can’t decipher.

When a Filipino child is young, people often say the term walang muwang. It’s a Filipino term that’s commonly related to the innocence of a child. Innocence of the world’s negativity and whatnot. I decided to start this paragraph off with this term because I wanted to slowly pull out memories off my head.

The first real memory I have was of the ceiling in our old house in Parian, a small neighborhood in Calamba, Laguna. All I remember was the sensation of waking up and opening my eyes to a bright light. It was simply the light on my lola’s ceiling. I’m not too sure but I was probably around four or five.

I’ve no recollection of anything particularly outstanding during that moment; only that I woke up and I was under that bright light. I remember the rustling of my mom as she move about in the room but other than that there was nothing else coming to my mind. Everything else a vague montage of what could’ve been my childhood adventures.

I remember snippets here and there. I remember wearing that blue checkered uniform from my nursery. I remember the way my cousins and I would argue as to who should ride at the back of my uncle’s tricycle. Although you’d usually use it for bags all of us would argue about who should sit there.

School was more or less a playground for all of us. It was a place where we met new friends and interacted with others who were not from our compound. After school, the same tricycle would pick us up and drive us back to the compound. I remember Tita Nit, waiting for us as we arrived. Her youngest daughter, my older cousin, is in the same grade as I am. She’s older by a few months, if I recall correctly.

Apart from my older cousin, I always had friends in my school. My closest was Rayshel. She was and still is one of my closes friends. I remember a time when we were at the school’s auditorium. We had just finished our exams that time and we were playing around the auditorium. We were having a lot of fun.

Back then everything was different. We were close and I was also close to her mother. Right now, it just feels like she sees me as the most detestable person in the world so I try not to see her. I know. It’s not a good thing to do, especially since I’m friends with her mom.

The way she talked to me and the way she interacted with me back then was very different. I don’t understand why she would react that way when I was clearly ok now with her daughter.

Fast Forward on our 18th birthday, Rayshel came to mine but unfortunately I couldn’t go to hers. It was a rainy day and I had to stay back and baby sit my younger sister. It was an excuse but I guess she and her mom didn’t accept it as easily.

Fast Forward on 2011, when my life felt like it had no meaning and when I felt like I chose the wrong career. Rayshel went to my house and we finally reconciled. Although the reconciliation was done, it wasn’t fully the same. We’ve moved on in life and we spent a good amount of time away from each other. I have made friends of my own and she had hers.


This entry isn’t to signify that our friendship had a sad ending. In fact, there’s still a lot ahead of us and I know that in time, we’ll be able to find that friendship that we used to have or if not, it’ll be something better. All I can do is to wait and look forward to it.

Posted in Rants, Thoughts


I have this burden in my heart that bugs me. No matter how much I try I feel like I have to say it but through an avenue that will not be bothered, exposed, or questioned.

Despite our differences, I open up to my sister. However, opening up to her doesn’t really relieve me of any of my problems. Thinking about it now, I feel more insecure when I do so. Because whenever I open up to her she would tell me things that I’d rather not do. 

Whenever she talks about me she would always say that I’m sensitive or say that ‘she’s like that’ which does nothing but feed my mind with questions. I mean, the way she says it makes me feel like such an incompetent person. 

I don’t disagree, mind you. Because I know I’m sensitive that’s why I feel this way. I acknowledge that and I try not to be too sensitive when I can because I know I can control that. But there’s always something about the way she talks about me that makes me feel so pitiful. Sometimes I feel so bad that I literally don’t want to live with her in the same house. If you want me to open up to you, thanks. I appreciate that, but if you can’t keep your mouth shut when talking about me, no thank you. 

Posted in Rants, Thoughts, Writing


I feel so exhausted. I want to rest. I want to sleep. Everyday just feels so tiring. I feel trapped. Whenever I have people around me I don’t feel like they’re there. I feel like I just don’t exist. 

Sometimes I tend to feel like I wish I didn’t exist. It feels like that because I don’t enjoy feeling of being with others and yet I feel like I’m more alone in their company. 

It’s easier to write it down now than talk about it personally. I feel like despite how everything has been with me and my sister she is trying to reach out to me. But I don’t think that the way she tries to reach out to me helps. It just feels a lot like digging through a scabbed wound, reopening everything and exposing everything.

Posted in Thoughts, Uncategorized, Writing

Days and dazed

My constant rants and writing signals a flow of thoughts that I cannot control. I tried to talk it out to a friend today but I felt that she wasn’t willing to listen so I stopped. 

On days when I wake up and feel my chest constrict I try to find ways to ease it off. I try to lean on positive quotes, motivational pep talks from TED and devotions. I surf through the net to see what I can read or watch but often times what I watch or read are just a means to distract myself from reality. 

To some home is their escape from tedious work and tiresome people chatter. To me, home doesn’t feel as comforting anymore.

Posted in Thoughts, Writing


On my way to work right now and I’m riding an uber. Dad’s on a business trip in Cairo so we’re left to fend for ourselves for the time being. 

As I’m about to step out of the room I remind my sister to leave early so as to not get into too much traffic. All I get as a response is a snarky “Oo alam ko. Nakaalis na ako nang ganung oras.” (Yes, I know. I’ve left the house at a similar time before.) 

I was just trying to give a reminder. If you don’t want me saying anything similar then don’t worry. I won’tbother you   anymore. I’ll go alone when I can. I’ll shut my mouth when you’re around. It doesn’t seem to be worth your time anyway.

Posted in Rants, Thoughts, Writing

Broken thoughts and Ideas

I’ve been trying to find a way to talk to someone, to maybe get professional help or simply air out my thoughts to a really close friend. But I’m struggling so bad that I cant even open my mouth to speak. I try to reach out to anyone but my words are all  jumbled up that I can’t even make sense in my own head.

I’m turning twenty seven in two weeks time but I haven’t even figured out how I’m supposed to live my life. My friends already have their future set out for themselves yet here I am struggling to keep up with every day. Trying to make sense of what my life is actually meant for.

I’ve never been a troublesome kid. I grew up in my own little bubble. Never really going out to explore the world and the possibilities. The good thing though is that I am independent. In a sense, I can survive life without anyone or without needing to be with anyone. Because no one has ever bothered to reach inside that bubble. 

Every single night I would lie down on my bed, scroll through my facebook timeline, watch endless youtube videos, maybe write on my journal, and then I’d just end up going to bed. The only interaction I would have other than the normal small talk would be with my sister and yet I can’t even qualify that as a conversation. It isn’t even constant. It would be erratic, in a sense that her mood and my mood contribute a lot to our possible interactions.

I find it hard to speak with people as it is but I find it harder now because I hear them talking in my head when my back is turned. And all that talk just pushes me back further into that bubble. It doesn’t even expand or anything. It just grows tighter and tighter until you feel so constricted and suffocated. It pushes me further into that stupid bubble that I can’t even break out of.

Some people say “You just have to speak out. You need to learn to speak more.”  But it isn’t a matter of just speaking out more. It isn’t just about opening your mouth and telling your story. It’s more about finding the right person who will listen. A person who will listen to understand more not just to give an answer to. 

On days when I do talk I constantly find myself looking like a complete and utter idiot. Embarrassing situations and all that included.

I want to write more but as I scroll through this post the ideas just become blocked. Word vomit usually happens spontaneously and even if I did want to write more I feel like continuing just so I could finish my thoughts would be a bit fake and unreal. I would rather continue when I feel the wordsflow naturally out of my head and through my fingertips. It would be better that way.