Destination Addiction

A year ago, the world suddenly gave me an opportunity of a different life. I was offered a once in a lifetime (or it feels like, but I still hope it’s not) chance of a clean slate.  I signed it without any hesitations, not even thinking twice. I didn’t ask any questions. I got no clue as to where it will lead me and whatever the goal is, literally and figuratively. The paycheck and the free one-way ticket made it easier. I was ready to go.

Running away. To be honest, I was running away. From all the frustrations, from all the madness, from all the people I could not face. From all the people that looks down on me, the people that would not bother and would never care, the people I care deeply but too scared to make peace with. And most especially I am running away from me. (Please take note of that.) That is the fun part, though – I could change zip codes but I could never change me and the way I am. Surprise, surprise, self!

Chasing something unclear. I’ve read this article reposted (by this wise woman that I do admire) about constantly chasing our ’10’. I am knowingly settling for my 7. Contentment in life. It wasn’t ‘better’. That was never the case, really. But then I realized, what if instead of ‘better’, I just want something else?

To live a hundred lives. I kept dreaming. Imagining these silly scenarios in my head and stupidly hoping I am. Thinking I am a 21-year old pro-surfer in Newcastle, or a 23-year old girl living in LA struggling to get a shot at fame. A 25-year old patissier in a little street in Paris, or a 27-year old kickass FBI agent in Florida. A 28-year old in Brooklyn, waiting for a big break in the theatre, or a trophy wife (lol) waiting for her husband in the Hamptons. I could live in a villa in Dubai or New Caledonia with my jetsetter husband and my kids who are annoyingly overachievers. Or probably a 30-year old Architect in New York, the youngest to build her own skyscraper in the Manhattan skyline, or maybe living in a picket fenced home in Jersey and a glorified soccer mom, and a PTA President at that.

Whichever works. (Ha-ha!) Can’t blame a girl for dreaming big, eh? I can’t help it. I’ve accepted and embraced who I am, but I still hope to be different. I kept shedding skin and leaving it on different places, never to return.



Probably crawling onto the next thing.

Never found.


Fighting for Nothing

I guess thats the sad truth the worlds been trying to tell me. Nobodys afraid of losing me. Nobody cares enough to fight or even bother to stop me when Im on my way out.

I fight for what I want. Wouldnt it be nice if someones gotta do the same for you?

The Social Contract

Namimiss ko yung kasabay ko sa adoration chapel. Yung nakakasabay ko sa jeep. Namimiss ko yung nakakakwentuhan ko ng mahaba. Yung kaysa gumawa ng plate okaya naman ay matulog ng maaga. Namimiss ko yung nakikinig sa mga kadramahan ako. At hindi naman naiinis dito. Namimiss ko yung pinapangaralan ako. Namimiss ko yung parang kabarakada lang ako. Yung kulitin o harutin parang lalake lang din. Pero nirerespeto pa din ako na tulad ng isang babae. Namimiss ko yung sinasabihan ako na babagsak ako pero sinusuportahan naman ako. Namimiss ko yung makulit. Namimiss ko ang mga kwento. Namimiss ko ang panlilibre. Namimiss ko yung mga kagaguhan na sinasabi sakin. Namimiss ko..

Those were my thoughts as I entered the adoration chapel yesterday before I went home. My refuge. And tears fell down as I start my conservation with God. Yes I am a crybaby but for some reasons it felt different. Maybe I was happy but too exhausted at the same time. School’s getting me and the works I need to finish and the life that awaits me outside as I graduate this year, hopefully. I swear I’m really up to no good.

Or prolly I miss something. I am missing something. In this case I’m not exactly sure if I should miss it.

Being nothing and still surrounded with love and all the care I could get. I don’t have to do something for me to be worthy. I don’t have to be that good to matter. I don’t have to say the right words for me to be loved. I don’t have to think what trouble it might get me into as I open my mouth and speak my mind or do what I wanted to do.

Like House and Wilson (House, M.D.). No matter how fucked up, narcissist, stubborn and childish House can be, Wilson is always there. He pushes people away but still manages to be best friends with Wilson. House may be insane but Wilson could put up with his shits. They are so adorable. Their friendship even though fictional is really inspiring. Maybe it does exist. In a parallel universe.

Someone who carries your baggage with you. You don’t have any obligations to that person but still you stay with each other. You don’t need pep talks nor you should learn how to. You face reality together. No social contract attached.

Hinc Illae Lacrimae

People push the ones they love away, expecting them to not stop persisting. People walk away, expecting to be held back. That’s what society deems beautiful. But you know what, people get exhausted and they will stop at some point. They will let you be, alone in the path you chose. You can’t blame them, because humans will always be humans. Sometimes,they want to be pulled rather than pushed. Sometimes, they won’t stop you anymore because walking away is what you chose. And sometimes, people need to stop expecting things they weren’t clear about. They need to stop saying or doing things and yet wanting the complete opposite. How would some people know what you actually expect, when you keep showing that you don’t want it? This is why most people are always disappointed, and then they do what they always do, blame it on someone else.



It doesn’t hurt. Does it?

I’m not even sure about how I feel. I don’t know how should I feel. Suppose I’d say the more that I know the more it hurts, would it even matter? I feel nothing. Or maybe I am guilty? Or is this regrets knocking and on my doorsteps, bound not to be entertained? I remember someone said, “that’s when you really  lose people, you know, when the pain passes“. I guess he’s right.

I’d like to think am over the Five Stages of Grief. The less you care the happier you will be. But Pooh also said, “some people care too much, I think it’s called love“.

*Original Title: Level 5: Acceptance
And this post has been lingering for over a year now. I think now is the right time. I’d like to think it’s for real now.

In Another Life

I suffocate people. I bombard them with my existence. I annoy them with my presence. Apparently, that’s what I always do. I don’t hug, I smother.

I don’t give space, and when I do, I give them all. It’s all or nothing.  Whenever I feel I am in that person’s life too much, I stay away. I’ve got no self-esteem, that’s a fact. So, if people don’t want me around, or it feels like they’re annoyed with my mere existence, I stay away as far as they like if they say so. And for the people who made me feel like they need me or want me in their lives, I’d be there, as long as they want me there. Just tell me. Madali naman akong kausap.

When someone reminds you of how important you are to them, how they still care for and love you, it’s like so much weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. A big relief that they’re still there. Reassuring, it’s a good feeling.

I need reassurance a lot.


Hi Papa God. I know we had a deal last year. And I’m not quite sure if it’s still up for grabs. I don’t know. I can wait, but I’m not that sure if it’s still somewhere out there. I’m not in a hurry, don’t get me wrong. It’s just that I don’t want to waste my time thinking, waiting for something that is not meant. Tell me if I really need to move away, elsewhere. Tell me if I had to, or  may be not. ’cause deep in my heart I know there’s this hope that still lingers. Hoping, wishing.. I’m not so good at decisions. Help me out, eh?