notting hill moment ...

The first time we went here ... we just talked. We talked for four hours. We talked about a multitude of things and we laughed and talked. We like doing that I noticed. We talk ... you and I, we talk.

The second time we went here ... I was mad at you. I wanted to scream at you and yell at you for you were such an insensitive creature, or so I thought. I kept to myself while we sat on the bench and you kept to your side of the bench as well. We were so near and yet so far ... a bull could have sat between us and would have been comfortable. I was that pissed and you said that you were that scared because I was pissed.

We still talked but it wasn't the way we used to talk. I was cold and you were precocious. The whole time one thing was running on my mind.

"Am  I ready to give up on the possibility of us?" 

After an hour or so ... I realized that I wasn't and so I held out my hand and you took it in yours. I felt at home. I felt that things were back to the way it was supposed to be ... and we had our notting hill moment and the thought of it still makes me smile.

Yeah Write # 1

“Write a story from the perspective of an inanimate object you use on a daily basis.”

      Hey you! Yes you! Here you are again ... wanting to use me and not let me rest. What is it with you people? Do you not think that I need to rest? I'm tired. Oh, you are bored? You want to be amused? Oh, you are heartbroken and need to vent your feelings?  Oh, you want to stay in touch with friends and find out what's happening? Yeah yeah yeah ... it's always about you. 


     What about me? What about my feelings? What if I too am bored or want to rest? Oh ... you don't care. I figured. What am I anyway? I'm just another thing that you bought and can replace at any time. Sorry about that. 


     Go ahead ... use me. You always do anyway. It's not like I have feelings. 

*** the lamentings of an overused PC 

disappearing act

Sometimes, I think I'm too present in your life. 
Sometimes, I'm not even sure you appreciate that I exist. 
Sometimes, I feel like I'm a nuisance to you.
Sometimes, I feel like you don't even notice me 


and I wonder.

Sometimes, I want to disappear just to see if you would notice.
Sometimes, I want to disappear just to see if you would miss me.

and there goes my vanity ...

I've been trying new looks lately and they have both  been a hit. One is plain old normal me and the other is a more vamp version. I do wonder, which one looks better on me. My guy best friend from elementary once asked me to get rid of all make up I had on since he said I look better without it. However, I notice that most people stop to pay attention when I'm all dolled up.

So my dear fellow bloggers, which one suits me more? First photo or the second one? Both were taken days apart only. Friday last week and Monday this week.

I had blush on, mascara, eyeliner, eye shadow and lipstick in here.

just light lipstick and nothing else

So, what's your verdict?

Monday Affirmations # 4

They say that life is not easy and that there are many challenges especially when we try to achieve something that we love and we feel strongly for. I agree with that. However, I also believe that when you really want to do something ... and you have even just one person who believes in you, you should never give up.

Yes, it may be hard. There will be challenges, there will be obstacles, there will be hurdles ... sometimes there might even be a couple of snakes and giant spiders that will try to scare you but if you really want to be successful, you will persevere and not allow this small setbacks to hinder you from reaching your goal.

So for today ... remember: NEVER GIVE UP!

munimuni # 59

This week started out on quite a sour note for me. Complications and getting held up were not the best way to start the week but it also helped me realize once again a lot of things about myself.

I am fragile but this fragile girl is now learning to be a stronger woman. I may fall still but I easily get up unlike before. I may be not as strong as I should be but I am a lot stronger.

Also, this week, my brother graduated from college and I am writing more. I think both are achievements because now, there are 3 of us who have graduated and finished school. I know that my parents are  very happy and proud. My Mom shows it but since my Dad is a Tiger Dad, he just smiles. LOL.

I'm also very happy that I am writing more now. Yes, I have been writing but now I have found some online tools that helps me really write not just about personal stuff but simply squeezing the pulpy juices that is my brain.

I've also been listening to more music ... where words fail, music speaks.

Happy weekend!

you keep pushing ...

To my past loves ...

I saw this on tumblr and realized that it fits what happened to us at the end of our relationship. To most of you, I did my best to make things work but you failed to notice it. I talk things out; that's just how I am but you shut me out. I tried and tried but you refused to notice that there was something wrong or if you did notice, you just didn't care enough to work on things.

So I stopped talking. I stopped caring. I stopped loving. I had to you see. I had to. I needed to save myself. I needed to love me, even just a little bit. I loved you too much. I wanted it to be forever; I thought it was gonna be forever.

It hurt too much. You broke me into a tiny million pieces and I was left on my own to pick up the broken little pieces that is me and my heart. I hurt too much because I loved too much. It hurt that I loved too much because you loved me too little.

Finally, you noticed. Unfortunately, it was too late. You pushed me away. Once pushed, I can no longer turn back. You see, the only time you succeed in pushing me away is when I finally learn to let go ... and you taught me that I can let go.

I'm glad you noticed though.

and the other twin takes centerstage

Last year, Kirk graduated from College. This year, Karl graduates. I am one proud sister. Finally, all 3 of us are now college graduates coming from the same alma mater, De La Salle University.

Here are pictures of this wonderful day.

And here are the family photos and photos of the newly grad.

It truly is a proud moment.

Bon Chon festival

This is what it feels like for me since out of a total of 4 working days, twice, I ate at Bon Chon. Both times were with friends and I relish the moments spent catching up and just plain talking over a wonderful piece of chicken.

Does it not look yummy? It is oh so yummy. Addictingly yummy. Crazy yummy. I honestly think I can finish one dozen. In fact, that is part of my plan. One day, I will go there and order a dozen and eat it all by myself. *huggles*

I like that even when there is barely time, we manage to find time to  bond and talk. Thanks Janina for tolerating my crazy woes and blues.

random shots

I like these shots. I don't know why but I like it.

its the little things

It's not the grand gestures that most people would remember. Yes, sure, the big things, the declaration of love are remembered but it is the small things that people would think of when they are sitting alone on their desk and a flash of memory comes by. It will always be the small things in  life. And so, right now, I am sitting on our dining table and here are the random small things that I remember about the men who have passed by in my life ... or even the one who is in it now.

• MU catching me when I almost fell from the chair as I was decorating our classroom board. 
• JM singing "When You Say Nothing at All" to me
• KM giving me a kiss on the lips at the end of the movie Notting Hill and the snowglobe on our first month.
• ES whispering the lines of "Say It" to me while we try not to sleep to finish my project
• CC picking me up at Columns when I was a wreck and letting me sleep in the car while he took me home and me leaving the car without saying anything the entire time except "thank you."
• RS serenading me with "To Be With You" in the car. 
• RS going all the way from Antipolo to Binondo to give me a teeny tiny flower. It's still with me. 
• L and his little surprises that I did appreciate contrary to popular belief. 
• Park conversations with K. 

These are the things that truly matter. It's not the big bouquet, not the exclusivity of being able to eat at a resto that has been closed so you would have privacy, nor the grandiose expressions of love. It's in the rose petals, the EFFORT to be with you, to SPEND TIME with you ... its in that.

When you love someone, you will MAKE TIME. Its in the small things ... the ones that you can't put a price on.

each in its own time ...

They say that everything happens when it should ... when its the right time ... when its meant to. Sometimes, we just become too impatient that we want to hasten things when we really shouldn't ... I am guilty of this.

When people would say patience is a virtue, I would answer that time is gold. I'm impatient that way.

Lately, I am learning to wait and to  let things happen as they should and when they should. It hasn't been easy and sometimes I just want to say "hurry up!" but I don't. I know now that when things are supposed to happen, it will.

Till then, all I can do is wait.

I am a SUICIDE survivor.

I first slashed my wrist when I was 18. I used a broken glass to cut my wrist and it took 6 stitches. I was supposed to die. I wanted to die. I truly, honestly wanted to die. I was 18, attending one of the top universities, at the highest point of my life but all I felt was misery. I was very miserable.  

Everyday I would cry ... I would cry at this small chapel we have at school and no one would reach out to me. Eventually the depression got the better of me and I started entertaining thoughts of suicide, of ending it all.

I pondered about it. I really thought about it ... entertained thoughts of it. I thought about how I should go about it. I was that crazy.

Eventually the thoughts left my mind and I went on to having a normal life. Or so I thought.

One day, I was feeling extremely happy and it was such a nice surprise to me. I've been sad and miserable so that ray of sunshine was a welcome treat. I savored that day and kept singing coz I sing when I'm happy.

That night, a friend of mine told me that I was going to kill myself. I was incredulous. How could he suggest something like that on the one day that I was happy? I did not believe him. I refused.

I went to bed at around past 12 and took a glass of water with me. That should have been the first sign for me to know that I had a few screws loose. I don't bring water with me in my room.

10 minutes before 1am and I snap. I don't know what happened but I broke the glass and slashed my wrist. Just.like.that.

It was a good thing I suppose that my Mom checked on me a few minutes later. Mommy instincts? I really can't say but she checked on me and this is why I am still alive today. It took 6 stitches to close the wound I made on my wrist.

The wound healed within 2 months but the scar it left is still with me. My family was traumatized as well as my friends. They could not understand what happened. I used to be this uber bubbly girl who was an overachiever. I had so much going for me that ending my life was not something that people would ever think I would do.

To be honest, eventhough I contemplated it, I never thought that I would do it. But I did and now I realize that if I had reached out to someone ... if I had told someone about my dark thoughts, maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have done it.

The second time I slashed my wrist, it was a conscious decision on my part. My family was fighting and my mind couldn't handle it. I just wanted them to stop fighting and when they wouldn't ... I cut myself.

This cut was far more serious than the other one. It took 10 stitches and I lost a lot of blood. A lot. My brother had to tie a really tight torniquet on my arm to prevent my losing more blood than I already have. Thankfully, I was saved again.

Those are the scars that I will forever have on my wrist. Few people notice it. The few who have could not believe that it was there. They were shocked, amazed, and appalled. They could not believe that I did it. They could not believe that I was even capable of doing something like this, much more to myself.

This was 9 years ago. I was 21 the last attempt that I made on my life. I promised my Mom and myself that I won't do it again; that should I do it again, I will make sure it was successful. It's been 9 years and I have never made another attempt on my own life.

I went through hell and back but I did not try to kill myself. I was proud of me. Very.

Lately though, when self doubt eats me, when I worry about the welfare of my son and my capabilities, when I doubt ... I sometimes have thoughts of suicide. I have thoughts ... but I do not have plans of executing it. I don't.

I have a kid who needs me and has only me to rely on and I will not be so selfish to rid him of a mom when he no longer has a dad. I may be not a great mom but I am trying to be a good one at the very least.

So now comes the big question ... why blog about this? Why talk about something that has been buried for 9 years? 

I blogged about this to let other people who are feeling low know that ending your life is not the best way to go about things. Suicide is not an option. It is not a solution and it is not something that you should even think about.

When you think about these things, go find someone to talk to. It doesn't matter if its the middle of the day or the night. Find someone to talk to. NOW. Do not think that it would be an inconvenience for the other person. I'm sure being interrupted from sleep is a better choice for him/her than having to attend your funeral. No one wants to go to one. So call, pester, and annoy your friends. Do not think; just call the moment bad thoughts come your way. Please.

Lastly, I blogged this to serve as a reminder to me. More than anything, this is a reminder to me.

UPDATE: It is now 2023 and I am happily married with two kids. I am so thankful that I was not able to end my life when I wanted to. Temporary problems. Permanent solution. 

Find someone to talk to. You deserve to continue your life. 

music is my life

When I am happy, in love, heartbroken, or sad ... I play  music. Music enables me to talk about my feelings without really talking. It helps me deal in the same way blogging has helped me deal with the hell that was my life with the Dad of my kid.

Music lets me feel. Music reminds me of things long forgotten. Music is who I am. I can sit in a corner the whole day, as long as I have my iPOD with me, I'm good.

I sing to heal my wounded heart and soul. I sing to feel better. I sing because I feel.  I sing because that is who and what I am. I sing to remember and I sing to forget.

I sing because I can.

held up

Earlier, at around 10pm, I was held up upon going down the bus. A guy placed his arm  around me and poked me with a knife on the side. He told me to not make a scene and to give him my phone. I did that and the next thing I knew, he kissed me on the lips, told me he knew me and that they would come back for me.

Sounds like a scene from a movie right? How I wish it was. Unfortunately, it wasn't. It was for real and the unfortunate girl was me.

I was able to go to the police station, call my Mom and tell her to have my two phone lines cut and even called someone else to get my coworkers number when it hit me and I blacked out. Yep, my mind seems to have given up and after doing the necessary steps, it just conked out on me.

I woke up to intense pain in my head and on my hand. When I opened my eyes, there were several people around me and one of them was a woman who kept squeezing my hand. It actually bled ... her nails left cuts on my palm. I am grateful though because apparently, it took a long time to revive me and I was exhibiting "lockjaw" symptoms already. They said I was bluish gray and I was cold to the touch.

After I was revived, they gave me something warm to drink which I cannot remember for the life of me what it was and this policeman tended to my wounds. He kept telling me to cry it out but I couldn't. I still can't. Until now, I still can't.

A friend of mine picked me up because he was unfortunate enough to be the one on the phone with me  when I blacked out. He picked me up and took me home and ended up meeting my Mom. It must have been a surreal experience.

To my friend, I'm really sorry you got dragged into this but thank you for taking me home. It was a sweet gesture that is much appreciated. You are right. I am not okay.

 I will be though. So again, thank you.

As for those 3 bastards, I hope they all rot in hell. I hope that they would be eaten alive by the floor. I hope that they all rot in hell. I hope that they will be taken away from earth.

I hate them. I hate them for scaring me and making me fall into  pieces. I hate them so much.

my wounds from the effort of the woman trying to revive me