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depends. as in not ready to commit murder, or not ready to commit into something far less evil hehe

The Gap.

  Hey wassup hello. I really made the effort to open my huge ass laptop and endure the risk of reinforcing my backpains to smash type keys at 2am to transfer what I literally wrote on my journal, but who is asking and who cares? I’m a grown woman who absent-mindedly drank coffee at 11pm, ate two slices of pizza with hotdogs and hot sauce just because I’m sad and at that moment it felt good. Now who’s that stupid wOmAn who can’t sleep? Uh, me. Okay so today I had one of my, let’s call it, episodes. Char. I saw one of my old classmate’s post of 3D renders shared on my timeline by one of my Facebook friends and it literally made me sick in the gut. The total opposite of having butterflies in your stomach. I messaged my mom about it and I felt like I wanted to cry, like I had to cry. So, I did. Haha. A bit. I concealed my tears in my yawns, though. You know how yawning makes us tear up? The tearing might have been because Rise Up by Andra Day played on shuffle and it was so emotional. It was stupid,but we all have the right to feel things that we may or may not be responsible of. Also today, Tita Mik talked to me about what has been going on in her life, and how people are treating her, and how she is treating herself. I’m glad she’s talking to me about things we don’t normally talk about because usually it’s all just true crime and conspiracy theories and tv shows between the both of us. I also told her about how I feel at times, on nights usually, to see if we could relate to each other and have more things in common than just the shared interest between serial killers and drama, haha. Maybe it’s just Leo tingz. You know us, we’re known to be dramatic. Also a while ago, Mommy told me that I lack self-confidence, which I would have to immediately agree to, and I may or may not have told her that I hate to see myself fail or something along the lines of that, which I don’t really mean. This is not me being dramatic right now, but I just do not see the potential that other people see in me (thank you, by the way, if you are one of those people), I’m flattered, but I don’t know. It’s the “gap”, I hate it. Or maybe it’s not it and I just keep blaming it on the gap. Maybe I’m just really not as good as everyone thinks or expects me to be. And maybe I don’t really hate seeing myself fail (because I’m totally okay with that, and I honestly move on from the thought of it quite quickly); maybe I’m just really scared of disappointing everyone who expects something from me, everyone who believes so much in me when I turn out to not be the girl almighty or the great person they think I am. I am being very raw right now. This is 100% me, and believe me when I say that a part of me wants everyone I care about to read this so they get a glimpse of how I talk to myself and confirm that I’m a little bit insane, but a part of me also wants to keep things the way they are just to test how much more blisters my toes can endure. I also don’t think that it’s me seeking for validation from everyone else, because I, in fact, think they give out an abundance of those affirmations & validations, that I can barely take them to heart anymore (but thanks, truly). I just think it’s me having a hard time convincing myself that a lot of the people around me truly and genuinely believes in me, not because I’m family or I’m their friend and that they are compelled and they feel obligated to, but because they are capable of seeing something in me that I can’t see in myself yet.

  So this one’s to the people who truly, genuinely still continue to believe in me when I can’t and when I don’t anymore.

sept. 09, 2020

*All The Stars by Kendrick Lamar, SZA plays in the bg* There are nights where you miss home so much, but there are also nights you never want to come home. I’ll forever miss the sleepless nights, the scent of your cars, and the skid marks we leave. I’ll forever miss how we race to school each day preparing for another preparation of another false alarm oral defense. I’ll miss the nights we never miss a chance spending a couple of hours to breathe and talk and make ourselves feel more human. I’ll forever miss crashing back to the pad and ending up cramming in the morning. There’ll be a lot of things I’ll surely miss, but one thing I’m sure I’ll miss the most is you us.

Day 01/Night 01 Day 02/Night 02 Day 03/Night 03 Day 04/Night 04

The world’s ocean holds about 6 billion dollars worth of treasure still waiting to be found.

I’m glad I found mine without even having to dive deep. I found mine, when only those who are brave enough to dive way beyond the surface can see.

This goes to those people who I never got to thank; to those who made my 2017 memorable.

To Adhara: Hara, you small girl with a colossal heart. I appreciate you big time. We know I have a lot of words to say, so thank you for having a lot of patience to hear me out. I’m grateful to have to you as a friend because I always feel so serene when I see you around. It’s your upbeat energy that radiates around everyone else. You’re one of the people that I never want to see sad because seeing you sad makes me sad. Here’s to more ideas & secret communication exchanged and some yet to be deciphered between eye contacts and laughter.

To Sir D: Thank you for everything. I can’t thank you any better, and I guess you’ll have to get sick of my gratitude before I think you’ll get enough thank you’s that you deserve. You’ve always been very patient with us. You’ve always been there to listen. I haven’t told you this, but you are the only teacher that I’ve opened up to this much. It’s probably because I’m not afraid to be transparent to you, but mostly because you’re such a good listener and you make it seem like we’ve known each other since birth. Sir, I know that you know that I suck at expressing verbally, but I guess it’s true what they say, “I write better than I speak.” I’ll never forget the gifts you’ve given me for our Christmas Party, dang gerl, whatta rich kid. It was indeed a very merry Christmas. I was so overwhelmed, I didn’t have the right words, plus all the “Merry Christmas, ‘Nak!” and warm hugs. But actually, Sir, I came to think of it, and I’ve realized that you’ve given me the best gift from you way before our Christmas Party. You gave me your gift the moment you listened to me through the virtual bloodshot crying, and the emotional madness over ambrose, and the random texts I send you when I think I’ve no one to annoy about how proud I am of ourselves. Thank you, Sir D. Thank you times a billion.

To Molly: There are times that I get really irked by you, especially when you slam on my back, Mols. You know that. Like, fuck it, Mols. Sorry. But I’d like you to know that I still mean it haha. At least half if it because the other half of it is spent trying to jokingly convince myself to let it go. I hope you know how much I appreciate you being in my 2017, Mols. When we wake up and refuse to see the world with gentleness, never forget that little breathy voice of ours that tells us otherwise. Here’s to more embarrassing moments, because embarrassing moments make us who we are.

To Vince: The only time I ever hug a guy is when I hug my dad. The second time was when I hugged you over the Christmas Party. I wasn’t expecting that, but it felt warm. I guess it feels like how hugging an amBROse would feel like hehe. I admit you are a pain in the ass sometimes, but all of those times are capsized by all those instances that you let me see the good in you. I always see the good in you, Vince. Don’t ever change. I appreciate how you humble yourself, yet at the same time you don’t allow anyone to step on you. You still manage to excel. I always say this to Hara, but never to you, “makalagot kaayo siya pero pinangga ko na char ew.” I’ll never forget the times you ask me for fashion advices, like c’mon you seriously trust me with your guy things? Haha. Anyhooz, thank you for being part of my 2017. You probably won’t see this, but I just need this space to let it out. At least I didn’t keep this to myself.

To Melbert: So out of the blue, I know. But hello, Bert. Thanks for being one of the reasons why my 2017 is memorable. You always give me a swollen face from all the laughing when I talk to you, Bert. It’s always a fun time. I’m happy I found a friend in you, it’s like you get me effortlessly because we share the same preferences. I always knew you’re a good person, I see your kindness behind that bad boy look you pull off. Thank you for lending me your Netflix account haha. Stop breaking little girls’ hearts, and don’t ever get your heart broken.

To Ramm: Charlie Sheen said, “best way to not get your heart broken is to pretend you don’t have one.” But you already got yours broken, and I pray that one day it’ll get stitched up; that someday you’ll finally want the pieces put back together. I know you’re a good person, Ramm. I see it. I see past you. Albeit the mean, merciless person that you show us, I see the heart that you try not to show others. You deserve the love that you keep trying to give. I don’t do hugs, but I want to hug you for validation that someone still listens and cares. I know you are so much more than what you think, and I pray that you’ll realize that. You’re such a bighearted person. Thank you for teaching me to say “you’re welcome” when I am being thanked. Thank you for making me laugh so much, thank you for being one of the reasons my 2017 was lit!

To Rodnick: Thank you for literally being someone I turn to when I have to rant; when I have to yell about how frustrating it is to not be filthy rich, haha; when I have to fuzz about online window shopping for film cameras; when I have to cry over the countless reasons why Ambrose is the best, and a lot more. There are many ways to bleed and hurt, but we’ve learned a lot more to survive. Here’s to more of what we usually have; to more surviving. Thank you for being part of my 2017.

Psst. I haven’t been visiting this space lately, here’s a little flashback:

Late in the evening on the 10th of November: I dig my foot soles in the back seat of the car, and I look into their eyes with assurance that I’m safe — that even in the darkness, I have that little glimmer of light; that even when I’m lost, I’m still found.

About 11 pm They took me to that ever coveted Busay trip, and that was then when I realized that it’s not where I am in this city that matters, it’s where my heart belongs and for a second I knew it belongs to/with a bunch of other heartbeats.

November 11 // 3:52 am The city lights a blur, my eyes a little tired. The smell of both beer & smoke kiss the air. They handed me an almost empty glass of beer, I took it. Then another one, then another one, then And it was a cyclic patter of that for a couple of minutes. I have to admit, beer really is best when served cold (and I’m sorry mom that I had to conceal this part when I told you about this story but I’m not sorry I stopped counting. Look what you made me do.)

4:57 am “I wanna watch the sunrise,” I tipsily say. They reply, “the sky looks best from where we stand.” Funny how I’m aware of every detail while my brain is being a little hazy in there. I’m not even drunk, and I guess I wanted to be. We got back to the car and I watch as their eyes slowly close and I wanted to not let their heads hit the glass windows without my arm behind it. *Super Far by LANY plays in the background* but staying woke to this scene while I was super far from home seemed to be the best thing in the moment because it feels like they brought home to me. It feels like breathing.

5:38 am I guess this is life, at its best in sleepy carelessness outside hotel rooms. Like love knocking on your door, but crashing to your bed. Like watching the city lights turn to sunlight. Like smashing a whole cake with your bare, cold fingers. Like just looking for a spot to take a nap, but being handed a plushy pillow by one of them. I told you I felt safe. There’d always be that hunch that I’d wake up the next minute, still breathing, still so ably breathing another couple lungfuls of air.