1999~2016. More than a decade of love, hope, pain, bitterness, despair and everything. I am still looking for that great love that maybe, just maybe, doesn’t really exist.

I ended a 4 year relationship (the longest I had) some 6 months ago. For many personal reasons all legitimate as the next. I cannot stand the memory of me hauling two 23 kilo-sized luggage with 2 fingers swollen and unmoving. When I bled and screamed and cried until I dissolved into nothing.

I look at pictures of happy couples by themselves or with children. While all my pictures, I am old and alone. I am starting to think after trying so hard I probably wouldn’t find anyone who would complement me. Who’d be there through thick and thin, who’d accept most of my weirdness and idiosyncrasies. Maybe I am asking too much. Or maybe that person just doesn’t exist anymore, when the world wants everything fast and easy, maybe searching for someone who would be willing to go through all the spins in life is now extinct.

I recently made friends who bitched getting the same lemons as I did. Ex-fiancees. Serial Cheaters. So on and so forth. Will life always give the same bad fruit? Can’t it give me Tequilla instead?

Meanwhile, I am trying to get to know someone who claims he loves me. He loves me in the small, 15 kilometre perimeter of Tokyo. But usually in the confines of his own space. He loves me, but probably doesn’t think I’m more interesting than Star Wars Battlefront (don’t get me wrong, I’ve known to spend 10-12 hours in front of a console getting the 1337 weapons for my FF13 characters or playing blitzball until someone wrecked the CD in front of my very eyes (true story, bro.)) Someone who never wants to take pictures with me, but had pictures of his exes strewn around Facebook. And when we have pictures anyway, he tosses them around carelessly with the bills. New Years Day I spent alone in a Temple, wishing, with all my heart that I will have a good life. Either alone or with anyone who would share their hopes and dreams, their sadness and tears with me.

Saying I love you now is so cheap. Love became so cheap. I feel so cheap for accepting this meagre, stingy kind of love. But who am I to say I deserved better?

Maybe, this is all there is. Maybe, I should quit trying. After all, it’s been 15 years and I am still alone. I begin to enjoy the solitude. I eat alone, I walk alone, I read, I am sitting here alone in my apartment. Until one day I will go into someplace filled with desolate solitude I will stay there permanently and never go back.

No one would care anyway.




Hurting the fragile heart.

The heart is a resilient thing. It never tires to do it’s job. Beating in rhythmic patterns to sustain life and to let blood pour all over the body. Your brain can be dead, but when the heart goes on, you go on, albeit a blank empty shell.

Whoever designed or conceptualized this little trooper must be proving something to the world. That a small object can sustain an entire entity. While strong, it is fragile and one cardiac arrest, heart attack, stroke or clogged  artery can damage it permanently.

Although we have succeeded somewhat by using numerous bypass operations and transplants can make it survive, or get you a new one altogether.

But, what about that feeling of dull ache you get from despair and sadness. That poking discomfort that I know too well from years ago waking up to dread, That throb that not even the most powerful morphine can take away?

Why does my heart feel this pain from words and memories too? It is unbearable, unnecessary and altogether just too much.

Is it because I’m too sensitive with hurtful words and gestures? Is it because I tend to dwell on them and harness them and grow them into monsters eating away in a manic frenzy?

Am I just too weak to brush them aside and banish them entirely?

This is why I thread carefully in matters that hurt the fragile heart of human beings. For there is too much in life to enjoy and too much happiness and love to give instead of spreading despise, anger, hatred and malice.

If only I can instil my beliefs to the people that matter. Maybe, we can all try to tend and heal the wounds and bruises of the courageous little, beating thing that took one for all of us when we needed it the most. 

Let’s take care of each other, love one another and be patient and understanding on the things that matter to us.

Am I Just A Stepping Stone?

I haven’t heard Dashboard Confessional being played in Jam for years. Let alone anything from the Swiss Army Romance album. But there you go, The Best Deception was playing and how timely the words are. The opening line was the prelude to my sorry state. 

Did it ever occur to people that being left behind is the worse ever feeling? Who could remember being taunted with goodbyes and “we’re leaving you”s when we were children so we would clamber back to our parents or nannies or whoever was calling us? I hate it. That little message injected a fear in all of us, of being left behind, of people going away and never coming back.

A lot of people come and go into my life. Some stayed, most of them left. I was just at Sonja’s cupcakes last night and I saw the Lemon Drop Cupcake. Who would have thought one little cupcake would emit from me a truckload of memories of a friend. A friend whom I haven’t talk to in years. The same friend whom I have talked for so much in years and suddenly I heard he’s getting married and now I haven’t talked to him since. 

Why that cupcake? I remember one Valentine’s Day when we were both dateless we ended up having lunch at one of the snazzy places in Serendra. He was there buying cupcakes for the girls for his workplace and he invited me over for lunch and since I was free, I did say yes. 

So after he picked me up at work, we were standing in the immensely long line  (take note this was the time Sonja’s was newly opened so it was a very long time ago) talking about a lot of things and while he proceeded to do a selection of cupcakes he said to me I get dibs on what I want since I was there with him. I settled for the Lemon Drop since I despise sweet things and it was the most unsweetened cupcake of the lot, I carried that back to work with a big grin on my face.

Looking at the cupcake again after 6 years reminded me how I missed that particular friend. We used to meet for coffee every break time talking and lambasting life’s lemons. We used to chat all the time, we used to be close, he signs his e-mails back to me with “Love” or “Hugs”.

Now he’s moved on with his life. 

After that trip down memory lane, It made me think, it made me think long and hard over the 40 minute drive back home, will I just be everybody’s stepping stone? Will I embrace each person into my life and whilst we had good times and bad, once they can move forward they will just step away from me?

I don’t want to be a stepping stone anymore. I want to be somebody’s rock.

Words don’t come as easily anymore.

I woke up this morning in tears.

I hate nightmares that can be formed into reality. It’s worse than the fantastical kind. When dreams border close to reality, the fear haunts you even when you wake up.

Those dreams are the kind that I hate, there was him, looking at me, I wasn’t even sure anymore if it was a face to face confrontation or over the phone, but he was leaving.

There I was again, begging and pleading and crying, and you know you’re already awake when the tears dripped, as real as they can be on the pillowcase.

The nightmare may have ended, but the pain was fresh, like an open wound.

And even now the hours have passed, my heart constricts with so much hurt. 

All I want is to hear you laugh and smile again.

Adios España

Who would’ve thought that I would get a chance to go through all this and fail.

My beloved N had the most amazing chance of going to Spain for 4 months. After careful deliberation on both his and my end on one fateful day in March, during a splash out in their backyard in Ilocos, it seems that I would get a chance to go to wonderful and exotic Europe.

How lucky was I, I thought. I would be travelling to China in May, and then another trip in July, or so I thought.

Preparations began since the departure of my business trip. The booking of the airline ticket which took a few eons and a lifetime to accomplish, firstly, the Singapore Airlines site doesn’t permit me to book the flight, the countless calls to their customer service, and finally I was able to book the itinerary that I wanted. 1 day before I leave for China.

And all the other important details took place, the searching of accommodations, the meticulous planning of the itinerary, the money saving, the bank linking, the pressure was mounting. All throughout my days in  Hangzhou, all my colleagues ever hear from is my excitement to return back to Manila, process everything and fly to see N.

Finally, we were back home. The bookings were placed, and what a pleasant surprise we inserted a Paris trip onto our Itinerary.


June 14, 2012 was the day I meet the VFC people to pass my requirements. The night before, I checked and re-checked everything. Everything was in place. My colleagues pooled funds to add to the additional money that I have as well as N’s recurring deposits to my other bank account and I felt ready.

I passed my envelope to the representative with shaky hands, and they said to just expect a call for an appearance to the Consulate.

The next day, the call arrived. I went to see my formidable Consulate Officer on Monday at 10 am.

Monday morning came and there I was in smart casual attire, shaking nervously and I proceeded to Window 2 where I greeted the Spanish Officer a hello.

He bombarded me with a tirade of questions, I answered everything. And in a few minutes it was over.

I went back to the office thinking if everything I said or did was enough. Based from the absurdity of preparation and planning, it seems so.


I got back their resolution on the 19th of June with the Refusal Letter with Item # 9 crossed out saying that my return to my home country cannot be ascertained.

I was crushed. Literally. I spent 15 minutes trying to compose myself at the convenience store of the Consular office downstairs while trying to figure out how to get back to the Office in my state.

I was able to return in one piece, subdued and indifferent with my group crowded around me thinking of ways to handle the appeal.

So I gave it one last shot.

I wrote a letter stating my reasons on why I want to be there, I gave them N’s return flight back, I showed them my condo here, and I requested to see them personally upon my return and sent the appeal together with the supporting documents on June 26.

I picked up the resolution 1 week later only to find that they refused my appeal and when was it dated?

June 26.

At that point, I had to laugh it out. and I wrote N this insanely long letter about it.

Today, I got the results of my visa appeal, and obviously, or maybe I was already expecting it that it wouldn’t really change.

I called Singapore Airlines and requested for cancellation already. It’s already under process. There will be a 100 USD deduction from the total amount. Better getting 64k than losing 68k altogether, i thought.  I didn’t cry, I just thought, 28 more days before I get to pick you up at the airport and hug you tight. Which is really the only reason why I want to go to Spain. To see you and to hug you and to be with you after months of not seeing each other.
It made me realize that no matter what kind of things I say on the appeal letter, what kind of documents I give, they would probably never give me a proper resolution anyway. I showed them your return flight and my condo and my letter and my request to appear before them upon my return to Philippines with no avail. It seems that I, no matter how non-filipino I look, one look at my passport stamped with the word PILIPINAS is enough for them to make a resolution without any bearing to what I said, the effort I put through with my itinerary, the sincerity of my words and the credibility that yes, I do not want your European dream or to marry your stinky European men, I do not have any intentions of staying and I really, truly do want to come back home Just because I’m not the diplomat’s daughter or of Spanish blood nor I was born with affluence or I am some sort of powerful person it doesn’t mean that I’d jump at the chance to stay in their beloved Schengen Territory.
I had to talk to my manager about that because I was late for a meeting to pick up another refusal letter from the embassy. He just told me that Europeans do have some sort of superiority complex, as he too was denied when he tried to get a Schengen Visa with the French Embassy but was able to get a visa from the Italian Embassy 2 months after.
It made me feel a little better to know that.
It hurt me alot the first time because we did everything to a T. The effort I placed in, the months of preparing, the frustration, the research, the checklists, the excel sheets, the asking of money, unfortunately everybody but the embassy saw that, they saw the excitement since China, they saw me go through the details, the manic, obsessive compulsive tendencies, the anticipation of questions at the consulate,
They didn’t see me cry though. They saw me deflated, disheartened and indifferent. I went through the days like a zombie, I didn’t want you to know, I wanted you to think that it didn’t affect me so badly, but it did. I felt stupid, I felt that I didn’t do enough, I didn’t plan enough, and I didn’t prepare enough. I thought that maybe if I passed your flight information the first time I applied, it would’ve succeeded. I thought that if I went with a cover letter or with my deed of sale or with any other information, they would let me go.
It seems it didn’t help at all. I got the Visa Refusal again today with the same stupid ‘x’ on Item # 9 and when was it dated? June 26, 2012. The very same day I passed my appeal letter. They really didn’t give it much thought. It’s like, ok let’s give them the illusion of a visa appeal but if we don’t like their face or their race we just reject them no biggie and give them Item # 9.
If I didn’t call and ask, they wouldn’t even tell me the resolution. I had to call them earlier today, And now I know that the extension number for appeals is Local 102. They already knew the resolution since last week, and yet I didn’t hear anything from them. I asked for a follow up last friday, and nothing.
This ends my European adventure. What an emotional trip. It hurts the most when you have to think of every place you need to go for your itinerary, building the excitement as you go through the plans, envisioning your dream to become a reality, but even when your motive is sincere, you are still under their mercy.
I want to say, thank you baby, because you wanted me to be there. Thank you that you changed your mind and you want me to be with you in Spain. For paying my ticket and for trying to help me get there in a big way.
For that alone, it’s enough. I can live not to see the Parc Guell or the Eiffel Tower or the Alhambra or whatever piece of artwork or museum or history they have.
Now ask me if I can live not having you. :) Sa kanila na yan lahat! Basta akin ka nalang! Haha! ^____^
Finally, I can move on.
And finally, I could.
Today is supposed to be the day I fly to Spain. Barcelona to be exact. By tomorrow, I could’ve been hugging N and kissing him after months of not seeing him. I could’ve been taking pictures at the El Barri Gothic and looking at Gaudi’s work I could’ve been holding N’s hand eating at Gelati and munching on Churros and trying Paella.
But unfortunately, the fates are not kind. They teased me mercilessly over the course of the last few weeks. By making our family eat in a Spanish Restaurant, by making me show all sorts of Spanish Logos and emblems because of the World Cup, and it was disheartening.
Worse to find out that most people showed not only 6 but almost 7 digits in their bank accounts.
What am I to do? I am but a simple girl who just wants to see my boyfriend and enjoy Spain.
Anyway, to my next great adventure.
Hopefully, it would become a reality.

Cause tonight, tonight, the world begins again.

2011 went by so fast… it was just last year I was chugging vodka mudshakes crying during the new year and now it feels different.

I won’t do the monthly recap… Maybe like the top ten things that happened in 2011.


Enough said. It is real this time. This is real. We are real. And for all the things that made me believe differently, I am glad I was proven wrong.

To the next year and to the year after that and to the many years after it.


I am so very thankful for this. I am so thankful for the opportunity. I am glad to be a part of something that I worked hard to get to. That people picked me because they were impressed and knew my potential and give me opportunities to actually go to the path I want. THANK YOU! I won’t let you down. I will be awesome ^__^v

3. Ilocos

I enjoyed being in N’s hometown. It was a nice change. I was glad to ride the pretty bus, meet the puppies, meet his friends and met his family :). I saw Marcos, ate a lot of Bagnet and home cooked food, and just had the vacation ever of doing nothing :D

4. Financial Woes Begone

More financial obligations to go until I am financially free. I am not proud on how I acted upon this so late, but I am doing what I can to eliminate this.

5. Resigned

What did I learn from all this? Never to let people bully me. I was so out of it that I let my defenses down and they hit me where it hurts.

I will never, ever be treated that way again.

6. Friends

Each and every year I learn who my real friends are. And who aren’t. The list gets a little smaller each year, but I am glad those people stayed. Those people who understood what I went through, those who gave me a lot of time to fix things.

And for those who don’t? Sorry to have wasted your time and your resources.

And for those I added to the list? See you again next year, I hope :D I’m happy we met.

7. Homeowner

When I opened the door with my keys for the very first time (sans the turnover day) I couldn’t believe it, it’s mine. A 28sqm little space with the balcony overlooking the Mandaluyong-Ortigas skyline. I owned this and it is mine.

Soon it will be someone else’s but I am glad to know I can own something at 27. It’s beautiful :)

8. Hi, Anberlin

I enjoyed the concert so much :) I’m glad to have seen this band live. Hooray. :)

9. Being Fearless

I believe being fearless is not living without fear, but even if you live in fear each day, you push forward.  I had to be brave and stand up for things I believe in. I had to do what I think is right. Because I absolutely dislike illogical reasoning. I don’t buy the bullshit anymore. So don’t sell me bullshit anymore.

10. Thankful

There’s a lot of things that went wrong. But still, a lot of things went right. I wake up each and every single day and I am thankful to be alive. I am thankful for everything. For those times I am happy and for those times that I am challenged to be happy.

2011, thank you. Hello, 2012. Let’s see how awesome it will be :)