Trying to find my spot


My heart is overwhelmed with sadness tonight and I do not know if it’s right for me to write something about my dreaded feelings; but today, I just felt that something is wrong and that I strongly believe is not PMS. Today, I found my self fitting in in the crowd I have been with for almost a decade.

I would apologize if this emotion yearns for attention. I do not know. However, I apologize for showing people my fake emotion. It is indeed genuine but at the end of the day, I feel like those appreciation of mine are not worthy. At the end of the day, in that place with those people, I feel not welcome. At the end of the day, I see no transparency. I yearn for integrity and genuity. I am trying to find my spot. I am trying to find the place, the people, the event, where I do not feel alone.

I have been living for twenty years alone but why am I still not used to being an island. I guess, I am not trying to find my spot, I am trying to find the assurance.


Good night,


They told me I’m beautiful | Guess how

Let me tell you how I look like.

I am a skinny short young lady. My hair is in medium length with very short bangs. They always greet me “annyeong hasaeyo” because my bangs made me look like Korean which in fact I got my hair inspiration from a hipster.

Just in case you imagined that I look like Korean. I’m totally not. My eyebrows don’t look like those you see in K-dramas. Mine is like the eyebrows of the Japanese emperor – thick but messy. I have Asian eyes tho and my lashes are thick and long. I have tiny pimples and open pores. My upper lip is brown while the lower part is pinkish. And oh, my nose is like the angry Tamaraw.

How about my body? This may sound weird and uncomfortable but, okay, let me have you draw it in your mind. As what I’ve said, I am thin but my favorite body part are my collar bones. I don’t have a Kardashian body, by the way.

Continue reading “They told me I’m beautiful | Guess how”

I can’t sell these tote bags because I am an introvert

I like making my ideas happen. I can’t sleep until I did it. So, recently, I put my ideas into reality. This idea had actually been thought of since last year but I decided to apply it on the first quarter this year.

I like painting but to tell you honestly, I’m no better in doing it. I get insecure to people who can really draw or paint the exact subject but on the other hand, looking at their artworks makes me think that I can do it too.

I don’t like business. However, this year, I decided to apply the ideas I had last year. I decided to open up an online shop where I can sell my artworks. I both love painting and tote bags which were I started my business with.

My shop is now running for almost five months. Is it getting better? I guess not. Running this shop made me anxious. For months, I have been identifying the problem. My shop is not yet dead but it feels like it’s already close. But despite this malnourished idea, I learned five things in building an online business.  Continue reading “I can’t sell these tote bags because I am an introvert”

What would happen next?

I hope that this is just PMS. I am really hoping that it’s just the only reason, so three days after that or a week after, I am alive again – excited, energetic, full of hope.


So, what am I supposed to do after I type and post this? I don’t know. Maybe a routine of scrolling my newsletter and scanning all the articles and posts I’ve seen before. Maybe a routine of shutting down this computer, throw myself on the couch and watch a noon time show. Or, maybe a routine of dragging myself in the room and wrap myself in a thick cold blanket and read a book until I fall asleep.

When I got tired scrolling, or when the show is done, or when I woke up, what will I do next? Those routines, have I gotten any fulfillment and productivity?

Those routines are just consistent scenarios that were programmed in me. Those routines are just consistent times of me waiting for something great to happen. What would that might be? I don’t know.

These routines are making me bored and think and scream. “Hey, I know this already, can we just move to the next part?” I want a new cheese. Haha. Yeah.

Now, I’m done typing. Can you guess what I’ll do next?

Your BOREDer,


I hope everyone would understand how dramatic ladies are before they’re in their… Um… garden.

Love makes me cringe

:  to recoil in distaste


Don’t get me wrong. I love LOVE. I actually receive this everyday. Receiving and giving love is like an apple, it keeps bad things away (but I don’t say doctors are bad. Haha.) However, it makes me cringe. Am I saying that I hate love and it disgusts me? No. As what I’ve mentioned, I love LOVE. It is just so happen that people nowadays have been using love differently. THAT’S WHAT MAKES ME CRINGE. I don’t wanna cite examples but in general, Love has been used selfishly. Love has been defined differently. Love has been used for abominable things which is why Love becomes bitter for many.

There are different aspects of Love; but, let’s focus on the relationship, which is everyone’s fave.

After reading a self-published book of a friend, “LOVE is BLOG“, it made me understand more about love especially to those who are looking for their “The One” or the single people. I even saw the perception of guys pertaining to love. And, getting hope that love is still not dead. Continue reading “Love makes me cringe”

I am an artist for free

I have been designing digitally for about six years now and a year on traditional painting after I attended Graphicka Manila last 2016.

In about 6 six years, I’ve designed for free. Everytime I make layouts, my cousin always asks me if it’s commissioned. No. Then, he tells me to make it a profit since I have been doing that for years. If I’d done that, he multiplies the price to six and the number of design I make and tada! I’m a millionaire. Just kidding!

Those years, people kept on telling me to have it as business. For me, money was never a reason. I design for people and I don’t ask them to pay me unless they insist. To be honest, I didn’t even know how to price my designs. Having those in my portfolio was already enough. Improving my skills through their requests were enough. Continue reading “I am an artist for free”

Baka Pwede Pa

Anong tanong ang may pagsuko at pag-asa
Sana pwede pa
Na kapag gumising ako ng maaga ay tatambad sa akin ang balita na
Pwede pa
Pwede pang dagdagan ang araw ko
Na kahit ilang beses kong gusto ay
Pwede pa akong makalapit sa’yo

Pwede pa
Pwede pa naman dahil may ilang linggo pang nalalabi na
Makasama ka mula gabi hanggang umaga
Makasama ka’t buuin ang iba’t ibang storya ng pagtawa, pag-iyak at pag-iyak at pag-iyak
Sa paglaban na gusto ko pang tagalan ang pananatili
Pero hindi
Hindi ko na pwedeng hilingin

Pero pwede pa naman akong humiling ‘no
Na sana naman
Magkaron at dumating ang tyempo
Na bago ako tuluyang tumalikod
Ay sa harap ko man lang o gilid o kahit sa malayo
Ay bumulong ka o sumigaw at tinatanong sa akin na
Baka pwede pa

Baka pwedeng balikan ang nakaraan ng sa gayon hindi ako lumalaban
Wala akong iniiyakan, iniiwasan
Iniiwasan na sakit kasi tapos na
Ano pa bang gagawin kundi ito na
Ang ginagawa ko ngayon na magtanong ng paulit ulit ulit ulit na pwede pa ba
Pwede pa bang bumalik sa tanong mong baka pwede pa
Pwede ba ‘kong maging tanga?

Hindi pwede kasi tanga nga talaga
Sa paghaya ng mga pagkakataon na itapon
Na ang tanga sa patuloy na ipinaglalaban ang sarili sa’yo na baka pwede pa
Sana pwede mo pa akong kailanganin
Ako na ang tanga sa pagpapaisip sa’yo na baka hindi mo kayaning wala ako
Pero kaya mo
Kayang kaya mo

Sana kaya ko
Baka kaya ko rin na balewalain nalang ang lahat ng ginawa ko
Tulad ng ginawa mo
Sana kaya ko
Sana kaya ko nang talikuran ka ng tuluyan at hindi na ko nagtatanong na baka pwede pa
Ito na ang huling tanong
Pwede pa ba?
Ito na ang huling sagot
Pwede pa kitang makalimutan


2nd piece
Created last March 1 on the bus

1st piece: Pinili kong wag nalang // August 2016

Remember your reveries


Remember me and the nights we stayed up late, like we’re watching stars togethere and not under the ceilings of our own homes- kilometer away from each other. Gazing, as we talked about things that matter and things that don’t.

Remember me and the times I bared my soul to you the way I never did with anyone else. Like stripping my clothes one by one until there was nothing left. Remember me and the unspoken thoughts I’ve always had, the bizarre situations we pondered upon. The things we will never let anybody else hear. Because nobody else understood.

Remember me like the way you remember every word to your favorite song. Play me on loop, add me on every playlist you have, listen to me every fucking minute until I am burned, I am etched in the back of your hear. I wanna be that song that haunts you, that song you unconsciously hum all day long.

Remember me like your favorite childhood memory. The one that brings a smile on your face. The one you like to reminisce every once in a while. The one you tell every one about. The one written in the pages of your tattered journal that you keep under your bed. The one you know you’d still remember no matter how old you’re going to get.

Remember me like the way I know I’m going to remember you.