Enrollment Dilemma

Since almost being an instructor at ATI-Phils, I’ve been having this annoying dilemma for days now.

To enroll or not to?

This being my first job, I’m gonna have to have time to focus and adjust, of course, as I’m not yet used to the environment of being employed. Also, I figured, with all the dreams and goals (both short and long term) that I’ve set for myself, I’m gonna have to start pursuing them early, and this could be a pretty good start. Aaaand, that’s what’s bringing me to the side of skipping this semester and starting fresh on October.

On the other hand…

I’ve been itching to finish the remaining 2 years I have in college in order for me to be able to go full time on this job some time in the future. Aside from that, I am 500% sure that the mother wouldn’t approve of me stopping school for a while too. I’ve been studying so long, this would cause a very huge fight between us.

So what should I do now? I have less than a month to decide. This is confusing.



Visita Iglesia 2014

Being a member of the Iglesia ni Cristo my entire life, I’ve never experienced the different stuff that most catholics do – Holy Week traditions, Christmas traditions, and feast days.

This year, my in-laws brought us to Bulacan, to do Visita Iglesia. This was my first. I love their family, mainly because they’re all attached to one another, in a way that bonding is never forgotten.


And today’s route was Bulacan-QC-Marikina. It was a very exhausting trip, but I enjoyed every second of it.

I got to visit different churches. All were very breath taking. Every church had its own history, and getting to visit them made me feel a bit of that history.


It was nice having to leave the technology at home, too. I didn’t register for any surfing promos today, so I was pretty much away from the world of social media the entire day. I got to spend it fully with my boys 🙂


The weather was almost unbearable, but then again, nothing beats sacrifice for Him, who sacrificed His life for us all.

I didn’t get to do the stations tho. I didn’t know how to do it, and that little monkey in jean jumpers just couldn’t contain himself, and we had to run after him all the time. I’m hoping next year we could already do the legit Visita Iglesia.


Living in fiction

I’ve never thought I’d be a good writer for fiction. Not that I’ve tried and failed, I just didn’t think I’d make it big in fiction. And there goes another self-pity moment. Haha.

I’ve never written anything fictional tho, I made it happen… Sorta.

For years, I’ve been making everybody believe what I say, what I show. And it began all because of one incident that made me put all the pain in the unconscious part of my whole being. I learned about that in Psychology about a year ago. It said that when one goes through trauma, the brain automatically sets it aside in the unconscious part, bit by bit, for the person to forget that it even happened. I don’t really know if my definition is right, but that’s how I understood it.

Five and a half years ago, I didn’t know what I was doing. I was in the rebellion-experimental teenage phase. I sought change. I never wanted to be consistent – this being said in general. I never wanted the same hairstyle for more than a few months. I never used the same school bag for days. I never wore the same shoes straight. I never went with the same group of friends. Not until I reached my senior year. And that’s where this madness all began.

Going into new relationships are always scary. Specially if you never really knew the person well before you got together. Doubts were always there, and as part of being a teen, bragging was also there. Couples I knew always bragged about how he gave her a gift on their first month, how he took her out on a date and it was so special, how she introduced him to her parents and they liked him (not that I have an issue with my parents), or just simply how they text one another whether in class or not. I’m honestly a very insecure person.. Well who isn’t? And as part of my tremendously growing insecurity about a lot of things, my fictional love story came to be.

The fiction I’m referring to isn’t exaggerated. It’s just the little things that I covered up by fantasies, that unfortunately grew bigger and bigger, until I couldn’t control it anymore. I get disappointed all the time, I get upset, and with little compromise, I come up with something very far from what happened all in my head, and I choose to live with it.

I have never been cheated on before. Before I got into this relationship. I’ve never felt pain that feels endless, specially when I’m alone at night. Everything was brand new. It was like coming to a foreign land where I didn’t know anything, and I needed to go through fire to learn. I never knew him before the first conversation we had. We were classmates, sure. But I was never really friends with him. I only found out about him through my friends, who knew him from when they were younger. That became the tricky part. I never knew who to believe. Friends who knew him since God knows when, or him, who has just entered my life and would still be showing me who he is. He was always the quiet one, telling nobody what’s going on in his mind, and I was always outspoken. Complete opposites, everyone said.

It was a mixture of confusion, fear and bliss.

But then again, I was in the experimental phase of my life, so I gave it a go. He seemed like such a charming person, and even before we were together, he had promised me things, and he made me feel like nobody else has ever done my entire life. I guess that was one of the biggest signs I took. I never knew he would be the last, I never even imagined having to start a family with him. I never thought he deserved it.

Half a year into the relationship, I was happy. I knew I was, because I was worry-free. I didn’t mind anything, and we never argued. He was just as sweet as when I met him. Taking the selfish side of the story, I’m the type of person who needs that kind of attention. I feel abandoned every time I’m not prioritized, and I know that’s not a good thing, but someone has to live with it. A few more months later, strange things started happening, and I felt more confusion than ever. It was that kind of trauma, wherein you wouldn’t wanna go out in public for a while, just because you’re hurt. That kind of pain where you just wanna curl up in bed, and do nothing.

The pain never ended. It kept on coming back. There were days I thought I’ve forgotten, but everything comes back, and everything seemed fresh again.

The first time was truly painful, and it was recurring. It became habitual, that I felt trashed, and I felt worthless. People tell me I’d go far. I’ve got a bit of talent, sensible issues, wit, and charm. People always told me anybody who would be my other half will be the luckiest person in the world. I felt the opposite. I never felt beautiful, I never felt appreciated, all when this was happening. But I held on. I have been holding on so long for me to let go.

These series of events made me sadder as the days went by. And I still didn’t want to let go, because I believed in him.

There were days when I laughed my heart out in school with friends, but when I came home at night, a black hole of depression sucked me in. No difference to what I’m feeling now, and it happened so often, it became a routine. I already expected the thoughts and the tears whenever I was idle.

But nobody saw that. Nobody saw what was happening to me, because it was too far from what I show when I’m not alone. I never told anyone, not even the closest of friends I had. To them, I was happy. I didn’t have problems, and everybody wanted their lives to be like mine. Everybody envied the life I was living. Or so they thought.

Fiction, indeed.

Every waking moment was terrible. But I had to hide it. I never wanted anybody to feel pity for me. I never needed that, as I was feeling it myself. I always get compliments from random people, but I never really felt it. Because the person who I wanted to notice me, never did.

Everything was made up in my mind, and I was living in a world where nobody hurt me. I never wanted to leave that place, but I had to.

I was missing out on everything. I didn’t see how much my life was falling apart because of that. And that little world I created, had my expectations set, and I grew more upset every single time people failed to meet them. I was one big stressed out wreck.

I show everyone how happy I am, when all this time that was how happy I wanted to be. I’ve been faking smiles and laughs so much, I don’t even know how it feels like to really be happy.

Recent events made me realize these. Because I’ve stepped out of my own comfort zone, and yes, I got hurt more than ever. I grew to be a jealous, paranoid girlfriend, and I know nobody wants that. But who could blame me. After a series of recurring incidents, what was I to do?

Today, I felt like letting this out. I couldn’t have possibly kept it in much longer. I have been in and out of the suicidal stages of depression, and all that I went through, on my own. I always wanted someone to be with me, but nobody was. I felt alone. I felt like nobody was ever there for me. Nobody listened. Nobody cared.

Pain changes people. It surely changed me.

And until this very moment, I still feel stings from remembering everything. Everything that ever happened and caused me pain. Everything that ever made me shed tears. I’m not as strong as anybody thinks I am. I give in to my depression and let it take over me. I don’t need doctors, I don’t need medication. I just need someone to be there for me when I need them most. I just need to feel the love I was missing out on for so many years.

Promises will always be broken. Faith will always be judged. But giving chances would never do you harm.

I’ve learned that helping someone change feels good, not because you made one change, but because you were the reason for it.

Again, expectations are set, and I am more than prepared for disappointment. But who cares? No pain, no gain. And people do change. It would take time, but if you give up on someone, how could they ever learn what went wrong? How could you ever feel satisfaction from what you’ve started?

Sometimes, pain would be unbearable, but outcomes would be worth it. You just need someone to help you get through the rough times.

And I hope this time, I finally let go of my little world, and start feeling better for real.

Muslims and Muggers.

How come these two words are often associated with one another? I have always been thinking about that and I’ve been terrified of their group ever since. Maybe also, because that’s how my family raised me. To know who’s good and bad. 

Without stereotyping and generalizing, I think Muslims are good people. Its just that, their appearance makes it very hard to think of them that way. The way they dress and look, although in the Philippines, Muslims dress up like us natives already. But there’s something that gives the people a sense of horror when they see or hear about these muslims. I don’t want to sound mean – I never would. But last night, I figured the whole thing out. Why they’re being banned in places, why they’re being judged, why they are being generalized.

Well, I live in a part of Quezon City, which is very secluded and somewhat unknown to some. People even tend to joke at times that I live in a province, mainly because it’s that far from central Manila. The subdivision before ours is rumored to be populated by Muslim groups – notorious Muslim groups. They were said to be the ones deploying teens and children to sell pirated DVDs here in our place. Rumors also tell that even the police are afraid to enter their premises because they kill anyone who poses a threat to them.

Last night, around 8:30 pm, my boyfriend left and headed home from my house. But due to the heavy rain earlier that afternoon, apparently, electricity connections everywhere were shut off. Everywhere, but here. He walked past the guard house, he walked past the last few buildings with lights on, and headed towards a straight highway with lots of car service establishments. Being in a familiar place, he didn’t quite mind the power loss. He has been walking down that road for as long as we were together. Since he was courting me, up to when we had Klaud and until recently. He felt comfortable walking down the road ’cause he used to pass that place at later times, and nothing ever happened. But last night, he got mugged. 

He was wearing a tiny black sling bag with his money and cellphone and other essentials there. About a few meters away from the bright areas, some kid pulled his bag off, and of course, as his reflexes would do, he pulled the kid immediately. The kid was shouting and scratching then someone from behind kicked his right leg. He bent down and screamed, but everyone seemed so preoccupied and busy and pretending not to notice what had happened. He was left with no choice but to let go, and everything he had was gone. Just like that. 

Now, I know he shouldn’t have passed through that place knowing it was pitch dark and in our time and date, a place that dark isn’t safe to go through anymore. But what I hate about what happened was, they hurt him. He was lucky it was only a kick. What if he got stabbed or shot? Nobody would come to rescue. Nobody would come to help. 

In our setting, yes, I admit it’s very hard to find a decent paying job. Even degree holders can prove that. But if they want things so bad, why do they have to mug people? Innocent passersby who don’t even know what’s coming for them. If that’s their way of living, maybe they should change it. It’s not decent, and they bring harm to people.

This is what made me realize why Muslims are associated most of the time to muggers, killers, rapists, scammers, and the like. They pose threats to everyone around them. This is what they show the people. I know not all muggers and criminals are Muslims, but most of them are. If not, they pose as them. Majority are from the Muslim community. And as old sayings say, “To see is to believe.” I didn’t see what happened. But, how in the hell would my boyfriend lie to me about being mugged and harassed that way if it did not happen at all? 

Again, I am not generalizing, nor criticizing. I am just saying how wrong things are. I’ve had muslim friends before. I used to have classmates who were muslims. They’re not like that at all. They’re better. They know better. What’s happening to the world? Crime rates are higher than employment rates. I just hope they come to realize the harm they do to people. Its unjust.

Happy Anniversary, Danielle!!

On April 30, I received a notification from WordPress, and whaddya know! My blog turned 1 year!!! 🙂

So, to everyone following me, and those who constantly drop by to read my senseless posts… Thank you so much for supporting what I write. And for posting comments and liking posts every once in a while, those little things give me inspiration and courage that somehow, I am spreading what I know, even if I do not know to whom. 

Cheers to our first year! 🙂


May – What is is and what it isn’t

Every year, May is that month where I get excited and all for school in June. (Yes, it takes me a whole month to prepare for an upcoming semester.) But this May just seems to take so long. Usual summers for me are like this: March comes, school ends. April comes, vacation starts. April takes so long, and then May comes in and I’m blinks away from June. Now it seems so long. It’s like, the other day it was May 1st, and now its only May 4th. Does anyone get what I’m trying to say? Hahaha. Whatever. May is the fastest month for me, but now it’s not.

Maybe because it started out wrong.

Maybe because I actually am waiting.

Or maybe because I just have nothing better to do… Yet.

Well April has passed on and I’m thankful for that. Because finally, the rainy-sunny days of May are here, which means less greasy mornings, less toxic lunches and a more comfortable vacation up ahead.

Back to why I even started this.. My month’s start didn’t turn out quite like how I thought it would be. I started with a blank sheet, and next thing I knew, it was full of scribbles. Some scribbles I think that are just really not understandable and just a few days into the month, my blank sheet is now a re-straightened old crumpled up piece of shit with scribbles of hate and pain on it.

I spend the first few days of May curled up in a corner, trying my best not to express sadness or pain. Keeping the tears to myself. I know what you’re thinking… “Why should she keep her feelings when she keeps on saying she’s got a big family around her?” Well, truth is.. I do have a big family around me, and that’s just not how they are. With them, I can’t feel sad. I can’t feel bad. I can’t cry. Because I have to be strong at all times. Some weird chinese belief I think. But wth. I’m human, and one could only keep feelings to herself for so long.

So, what was going on?

The usual unending break up-make up cycle with the boyfriend that.. I don’t know. It just happens. And as bad as it may seem, its been happening often recently. Also, trust issues I managed to gain from my family. Ironic, I know. And the ever so obnoxious feeling of lacking comfort and security in my life. There was a point where I just sat out and cried for an hour or so, just because I’m too fed up.

But things change as people change how they treat you.

Feelings change as the people change how they make you feel.

And I guess that’s just it. But you can’t live on your decisions alone. You need compromise. And that’s what we agreed on. Compromise about how we should make things fair for each other so no one’s superior and no one’s inferior… And I guess that’s just how life’s supposed to be.



May is just another ordinary month just like all the other 11 months that come by annually.

May is not an excuse for something that rids you of what you felt the month before.

Blogging: The essence is gone.


A Web site on which an individual or group of users record opinions, information, etc. on a regular basis.

So, here’s the first critique of many, on how technology and lack of knowledge has changed people. 


Blogging has been a passion. I started blogging when I was about 11 years old, back in my frosh year in highschool. I was on Xanga then. I learned the essentials of blogging there. And also, since that was when the technology’s just rising, I did learn at an early age. Nowadays, people know this stuff like its the back of their hands. Its like an inborn thing. The codes, the CSS, the html… Pshh. I had to learn the hard way.

Redirecting… I’ve always been a neat blogger. I always wanted my blog so pretty and clean to look at, and I wanted people to know that it was MY blog. I post my photos, and thoughts, and anything and everything else I could think of. For how many years, that was what blogging was for me.

Now, I see people… I see CHILDREN. Yes, children on Tumblr. And I am not talking about 7 year olds. I’m talking about the tweens, just about to hit puberty. My sister’s on tumblr. She’s only 12. I found people on Tumblr, they’re  only.. what.. 10? 11? Geez. Kids that age shouldn’t be too exposed to the internet yet. When I was around that age, I spent my time outdoors playing with my friends, or playing with my dolls. But no. Since this is a new generation, they all waste their summers and their weekends and holidays.. ONLINE. And why do they go on Tumblr? TO REBLOG STUFF THAT OTHER PEOPLE POST. I even talked to someone who only made a Tumblr account just to reblog stuff. As written above, it’s a website to record opinions, info and shit like that.

POSERS. Not a new issue for this generation, but hey. It’s very noticeable. When I was 13-14, I had posers. They bombarded the profiles with sexual innuendos and stuff like that. Posers were bullies. Posers were stupid. And then lately, I find out that posers nowadays use other people’s faces to become a different person. Like literally living another person’s life… And without permission. AND KIDS LIKE TO DO THAT. THEY. LIKE. IT.

What the hell’s going on? I mean, I don’t wanna sound like an old grandma.. But.. WHAT THE FUCK GUYS! You kids are too young. You shouldn’t be blogging about your body, your insecurities, your crushes, and your heartaches! YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE INSECURE YET. YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HAVING HEARTACHES. What has happened to humanity!!! 

*Sorry for the rage. I’m just really concerned. They are getting really really reeeeeally worse.*