To the ones who I haven’t noticed enough, Merry Christmas

Here’s to my two unsuspecting neighbours who heard my grandma and mama’s pleas. You came to the hospital barefoot and with holes on your shirts. Without you, I won’t be here.

Here’s to the Musmos kids of Katipunan, our weekday memories have kept me together throughout these years. Wherever you are, know that you have the power to change lives. I hope your families are well.

Here’s to the Musmos kids of Cubao, the ones who led me to believe in the power of choosing love above all else. I worry and think about you every night, wishing that you grow well in spite of circumstances. Wherever you are, know that you are worthy.

Here’s to UPOU professors, you give meaning to education without boundaries. I am in awe of your dedication. You give me hope.

Here’s to my stan twitter mutuals, you prove that friendship can foster digitally. You welcomed and trusted me freely. I wish you can love yourselves more.

Here’s to my fellow chronically ill, our limits give us freedom. May we learn to carve our own path and dare to challenge the norms of the world. You have my back.


here’s to the silent readers of this blog, my heart is a bottomless pit of gratitude. I hope you found serenity, knowledge, and solace between my words. Your gift of time still overwhelms me.

Merry Christmas, everyone!



Random Thoughts and Rambles

  • Going into my second month in stan twitter, I am beginning to understand how easily people throw words as defense when they feel threatened. In every argument, they feel that they must win and reign superior over the other party to feel a sense of justice. However, as the argument presses on, wounds go deeper and more difficult to heal. The hunger of retribution sharpens. It is a never ending cycle of giving and receiving pain. And all of this stems on pride. The inability to be accountable. The decision not to acknowledge faults. The repressed anger bubbling under retorts.
  • Forgiveness is such a wonder. An art form, really. There is a ritual – a routine – for every person to attain it. This personal ritual must be respected. An offender has no right to dictate when the pain ends. Time and space are important steps.
  • To walk on a flower path is to walk into every season. It is the acceptance that spring days evolve into summer-filled afternoons and the wind will become colder and colder until it is hard to progress. This is the rule of nature and time. Maturity comes and makes us more refined. The denial that things will stay in bloom forever is childish and a daydream one must wake up from.
  • Death is the only time we will stop balancing ourselves between the good and evil extremes of each value we keep.
  • I miss philosophy classes.
  • I think I am out of my recent depression episode.
  • Love, after the infatuation runs out, is a difficult or easy choice to make. It depends on how one wakes up in the morning.
  • With my month-long reflection, I realized that I still do desire to establish myself in another country. It’ll be hard but the challenges excite me. This will take a long, long time.
  • The love of my life is the group of kids I taught back in my first university.
  • After all this time, always in all ways, for the kids.
  • My new back brace makes me feel like a robot.