Luna Lone

Boys liked me because I'm kind, Or so they say. It was never how I looked Or how I dressed; It was always how I think, How I speak, How I act, How I see the world differently than most.

At first, I was offended Then I was fooled Into believing that it's good. Because if I was so kind, And smart, And selfless, And someone to be protected—

Then why am I always in pain, In pieces, Shattered on the ground Like I was never cherished to begin with?

I was always on the brink of death Gasping for air, Looking for answers, Wondering what went wrong— As to why I always find myself wilted And scattered on the floor Like no one ever loved me at all.

It was suffocating to say the least; Until it dawned on me How some people pluck flowers But never know how to take care of it; How they separate it from the rest Just because they want it for themselves, Not realizing that it can't live long Without its entirety.

They loved me, Adored me, Promising too much or too less; Putting me in a vase As if I would grow roots eventually. And when the day came That I started to wither I was left alone to deal with the mess.

I have this friend, we shall call her a unicorn. This unicorn has been my friend for over nine years. We've seen each other's stupidity. We've been each other's therapist. We've been each other's bully. In fact, she's not only my bestfriend—she's my sister from another mother. I remember tita joking around and saying that she should adopt me just so I could stay at their house permanently.

Now, this unicorn and I have very different personalities—it's a save-the-word-or-fix-the-world type of thing and she would be the 'fix' one. I remember we had a debate about that as she made me watch Human Centipede 2. Can you imagine? And she was even eating her pancit canton without a care in the world while she lays out her argument.

At first glance, you would think that our personalities matches our outer persona. My unicorn looks sweet, kind, bubbly, and filled with all the rainbows in the world. Meanwhile, I look gloomy, always under a thunderstorm, and ready to punch you without hesitation. But in reality, it's the other way around. I think that's why we compliment each other. She's stressed out from protecting me from the world, and I'm stressed out from protecting the world from her.

When we asked each other what color we think of one another, she said that I am the color yellow. I asked her why and she said it's because I'm always filled with happiness, hope, and the likes. For me, she's the color red because she's fiery, feisty and full of passion. She's like a fire that doesn't want to burn out. And she does not back down.

My unicorn is one of the truest person I know. That's why even if we have differing ideologies and opinions, I still love her. FYI, I can sense fake personalities when I see them. Also, fake personality and masking are different, just so we're clear. So, yeah, you can trust me on this.

Anyway, my sweet little unicorn will be taking her licensure exam in a few weeks and I just want to tell her that I'm proud of her for making it this far despite the obstacles she faced and are still facing as I type this. And I want to remind you, my sister in Christ, that no matter what the result will be, you'll still get rich—just not instantly like you are planning for. Trust God and His plans for you. We love you and we believe in you, okay? Passed or not, may uuwian ka pa din sa amin. Mwaps. Dedma sa bashers.

That question got me dumbfounded the moment she asked me. I remember staring at her for quite some time as I laughed nervously.

I don't really have the heart to tell her that it's not me being positive, it's just me who got used to the pain and suffering of this cruel world.

I don't know how to tell them that I've already attempted to end my life multiple times since childhood, so getting zero on a quiz I'm aware of being at fault is nothing compared to that.

I'm not sure if it was even right for me to say that it was God's grace and love that was keeping me going when I know that I sin a lot.

But to answer that question in a less depressing way, you just have to accept that no matter how hard or pressured you are, it's just how life will be. You either face your problems or leave them.

I've been asked multiple times why I decided to leave Bachelor in Multimedia Arts despite being in it for almost three years. And every time it's brought up, I smile and say random things to hopefully end the conversation. Why? Because I don't really know how to explain it. I'm not sure how I can tell someone that I was suffering from things that no one can see and only I can feel. And there's actually more to it than just being tired of fighting my own mind.

Everything started on the day I was on my way to enroll in senior high school. My parents decided to drop me off at a jeepney stop since it was on their way to work anyway. I remember clearly that my mom asked me what strand I decided to sign up for. At that time, I was planning on taking a psychology program after high school, so I told her I'd be taking HUMSS. Then, she proceeded to ask me if I was sure of it and if I didn't consider choosing STEM instead. But I told her that HUMSS is a much better fit for my preferred program in college. She did not push me to choose STEM, but what bugged me was the tinge of sadness in her voice as she said her words of support. One of my weaknesses is my mom's sadness and I can't bear hearing it. So, when I got to the university to sign the papers needed, I put my name under the STEM strand. I remember standing there for a hot minute and weighed the pros and cons of my sudden decision. I justified it by telling myself that my favorite subjects are science and mathematics anyway and that I'm afraid of public speaking so choosing HUMSS would be a difficult road to take. I also tried to assure myself that psychology is a branch of science, so taking STEM is not that bad—it was.

I almost did not make it out alive, literally. Along with the problems with my peers, I constantly questioned the subjects within the strand and how they relate to the program I want to take in college. It's not helping that the curriculum was too focused on engineering. A lot of my classmates who wanted to take medical programs were also having the same questions as I did. But I did it. I graduated regardless of having to transfer schools and constantly falling into relapse. I even made it to the honors list. I had my research awarded as the best research among our batch despite having to present my defense twice since my first attempt ended in me having a full-blown panic attack.

And then came the college enrollment. Due to the circumstances beforehand, I did not go through my original plan of applying to my dream university—the University of the Philippines Baguio. In fact, I was hesitant to even continue my studies. Don't get me wrong, I love studying. But I was too exhausted from battling my mental dilemma. Back then, my parents were still glued to the idea of how time is of the essence. They were asking me about my college plans which at the time, my plans were nonexistent. They asked me what programs I was considering. I told them I still wanted to take psychology. But my mom was overly against it, and we would constantly have arguments. It was a back and forth of what jobs would it get me and how I could take it as a second degree instead, etc. I'm not sure if I explained to her then that I didn't want to take Psychology for the fun of it and that I wanted to be a doctor. I think I did. Nevertheless, she wouldn't hear me out. So then, I told her about the other programs I thought of which was Multimedia Arts and Information Technology. She printed out a list of schools that offered the former but all of them were either finished with their enrollment period or the tuition fee was too expensive. I also looked for those that were offering IT, but some were not really that good in terms of their curriculum and the others were of the same reason with MMA.

That's where Architecture came in. In 12th grade, I briefly worked in a construction company for my Immersion subject. The owners are a family friend of ours and they taught us the ins and outs of the industry. Not going to lie, it was a delight. I loved the technicalities within the job and for some time, I saw myself actually pursuing the field. But I did not really fall in love with it, I just love the idea. I still prefer helping people overcome unseen illnesses and understanding more about the human mind. However, it was the only program I at least found tolerable that was mostly available in state universities.

I took an exam with one university; I did not try to apply for more. I just wanted it to be over. I want them to get off my back. Fortunately, I got in. During the interview process, the dean told me that the program was nearly full and filled with applicants and the chances of me getting accepted was low. She asked me what I had that will make me stand out among the others. I don't recall my answer to that, I just remember trying my best to stay alive for that time being. I think I answered along the lines of having a background within the field and all that. Then she started browsing my credentials and exam results, and she asked more questions like am I capable of handling pressure, etc. I half-heartedly answered all of that. In the back of my mind, I was hoping that I wouldn't get accepted so I could be sent to the psychology program since it was my second choice in the form. At the same time, I was trying hard to answer well to be accepted and please my mom. Can you imagine how much I wanted to die in that moment?

After the interview process, a drawing assessment was also required. While doing so, I did not know what to pray for. I want my mom to be happy, but I also want the program I want. God must've been confused about how to answer her feeble daughter. Hence, I took my sweet time to finish that drawing. My perfectionist ass won't let me get up anyway. I was also thinking of just ditching the whole interview, but then where would I live if my mom throws me out? The stress was too much. Even as I'm writing this and trying to remember the events of that day, it is stressing me out. Like how did I not jump off a bridge or something?

Anyway, long story short, I got accepted anyway. My hopes and dreams of pursuing psychology were crushed that day. I'm still curious as to how I made it home alive.

You know the sad part? I did not even last for a semester. I was gone after the midterms. I was too depressed to go back. I locked myself in my room. I had a hard time speaking with anyone. When my mom asked me why I stopped going to school, I simply told her that I didn't like the course. That short sentence even took me a great deal of strength to say. It wasn't even true. I do like the course. Like I said earlier, I like the technicalities. Even if it wasn't as fascinating as psychology, I still find it interesting. My classmates were fun to be with. I had no problem with the facility. My problem was more of a personal one which included the stressors in my life, imposter syndrome, and apparently, I have ADHD and OCD—that I would not be aware of until two years later.

At that time, I didn't know that I was suffering from those. I was only sure of having depression and anxiety as the physical symptoms were obvious. It was a constant battle in my brain. Every day was a bloodbath in my whole system. I wake up, I dress up, I walk to the jeepney stop, I watch people struggle to get on jeeps while I just stand there watching them because I fear that I might get a full-blown panic attack with that much crowd. I remember one of my friends being in awe while she watched me nonchalantly watching commuters fight for their lives to get on. Look, I was mentally exhausted. I was not risking being an anxious mess and bothering all these people trying to make a living. Plus, I had a long-ass T-square with me that I was afraid of getting broken in half from all the pushing. I usually ride habals or book Angkas when I feel like it's taking too long for the crowd to lessen.

Every drafting work was taking a life off me. Every mistake was killing me. I can still see the look my professor gave me while we were doing an activity in freehand drawing. I felt the judgment and amusement as he silently watched the way I drew. It made me feel small and insecure. My mind started planting doubts in my stupid brain. I started comparing myself with my peers. Suddenly, I didn't want to be there. I wanted to hide. Do I really have what it takes to be one of the best architects out there? What if I design a building poorly and people would be in danger because of me? Was I doing too much? Was I not doing enough? I didn't think I should be there at all even if my friends from that program told me otherwise.

Fortunately, like a blessing in disguise, the pandemic started when I left. Nothing changed; I still refused to leave my room, and I had a hard time speaking. The only time my family would see me is when I had to pee or poo. And yes, I did not eat. It helped that I wasn’t expected to run errands since we weren’t allowed to go out anyway. However, my parents didn’t think that what I was experiencing was serious. I remember being pulled from my bed; mind you it was a bunk bed, and I was at the top bunk. I resisted; I didn’t care if I got bruises. I didn’t want to see anyone; I didn’t want to speak. All that came out of my mouth was, “Ayaw ko. Ayaw ko,” while crying from frustration and despair. I think that’s when it hit them. After that, they didn’t force me to go out anymore. I also broke up with my ex of two years since he’s one of the stressors that made me hurt myself from time to time. That’s when I gradually started getting better. Saying that I was relieved is an understatement. It felt like I was exorcised.

Fast forward to about a year and a half later, I got a bit better. I gradually began to speak and be my old self. However, it never felt right. It always felt like I was floating. It was like I wasn’t there. But I wanted to get better. I wanted to continue my studies. I didn't want to be stuck crying and praying I was dead every single day. So, despite what I felt, I tried my best to look into programs and colleges that I could enroll in. My mom became more lenient with my choices this time around, but she was still skeptical about the whole psychology thing. I got in on the same train eventually. That’s why I decided to take Multimedia Arts instead.

I wanted to be able to do everything—design, illustrate, animate, photograph, produce music and films, direct movies, write screenplays, and publish my own books. I forgot to consider my initial dilemma with my first take on arts. Back then, I wasn’t that much aware of how intense imposter syndrome has on me. I only assumed that I have a very low self-esteem. I was doing well at first, but eventually, it took a toll on me. Hence, my parents decided to let me see a psychiatrist. I have multiple diagnoses, but I was mostly treated for my depression and anxiety. I was also monitored by the school’s guidance counselors.

I tried.

I really tried.

I’m still trying.

I decided to transfer school, again. This time, I hope to finally take my dream program. Rather than staying in my hometown, I decided to go back to my original plan—to study in Baguio City. But God has other plans. While I did get to study here in Baguio, I wasn’t accepted in psychology. I was devastated, but also, I was too numb to feel anything. I wanted to defend myself while the dean told me I couldn’t be accepted due to my poor standing with my previous program. I wanted to tell her that my illnesses are not limitations, rather it gives me the capability to understand and empathize with people more. But I didn’t. She had a point—it was a board program, and my recent standing reflects my wobbly mental state. I was stunned.

Nevertheless, it didn’t stop me from wanting to continue my studies. She told me I should find a plan B. So, now, I’m studying Music. I really keep coming back to arts no matter what, do I? Anyway, while I was there, I heard their choir singing. It reminded me of the joy I had back in my high school years. And upon looking at the courses they offered, I noticed nothing really grabbed my attention. Thus, I am here.

I won’t be telling you my plans for the future. I just wanted to relay how I got here. And if a first-year student would be reading this, I just want to tell you:

1. When I am put in a stressful situation, specifically when I become the center of attention, I try to find someone familiar and I feel safe with. I will, then, proceed to hold their hand or arms, or even their shirt, in order to ground myself and remind my buzzing brain that nothing is wrong.

2. If the aforementioned is not available, watch me go into a full on panic attack. Just kidding (not), you'll see me fidget a lot. My common fidget would be shaking my leg.

3. I try to remember everything that my psychiatrist, counselors, and psychologist told me to do to prevent panic attacks. One of the things I always hear them say is the breathing technique. The other would be the grounding thingy: find something you can touch, hear, see, taste, and I forgot what else. Basically, find things that will bring your mushy worried brain to earth.

4. After I first experienced having a panic attack while walking the streets because of eye contact with every being I passed, I stopped looking at people's faces, especially their eyes. Every time I walk through a crowded space (even those with a significant amount of people), I focus my vision on the background. That's why even if I know you, I won't really know you're there unless you make yourself known.

I actually loved looking at people's eyes because it tells stories. But, yeah, life.

5. I avoid crowds for obvious reasons. I already had several cases where I had a panic attack in the midst of chaos. Although, I started cruising crowded places again when I took antidepressants and all was good. I'm not sure if that will still be the case right now, since I stopped taking meds for almost a year now.

6. I am currently practicing this so-called nonchalant bull that's been circling around. It's stoicism with a modern touch. I also read articles about the sole idea of stoicism and detachment. Does it work? Sometimes, I guess? I'm an overthinker at birth. It's kind of hard to do.

In cases where I do go on a full on panic attack, I simply do my best to calm myself down. My body would be stiff, so you'll see me trying to massage my hands as hard as I could. You'll also see me crying because my brain is currently on hold to be logical and my body is slowly losing control due to stiffness. A school counselor once told me that one thing that could help stop a panic attack is distraction. It's what she said after I told her that I gradually calmed down after being annoyed with my sister because she took too long to respond when I was asking for help. (Not that it's entirely her fault. We were far away from each other, and I only messaged her because it was hard for me to voice anything out.)

It's a way to get you off your ongoing haywire of thoughts. So, every time someone calls me and they tell me that they're having a panic attack, I try to distract them with anything that I could think of.

People who know our family might think my mom influenced me to write. My mom's side of the family are bookworms and achievers, so I can't really blame them if they would assume that. But the thing is, my family only knew that I wrote stories and poems when I told them that I had joined the journalism club back when I was in 10th grade. And I didn't even know that my mom was a big part of their campus journalism when she was in school. We don't really talk much about our interests at home. Our parents let us be us, no questions asked. Except if our safety is concerned, obviously. Everyone's busy with their lives that we have no time to catch up. We don't even have dinners together. Sad, isn't it? Well, not so much. It has its pros and cons, but the pros make it okay, I guess.

I fell in love with writing ever since I learned how to read. I love reading story books, fairy tales, and even those short stories you find in educational books. I even finished reading a children's bible from cover to cover in less than a week. I was at awe in how emotions can be expressed through words. At how you can hide real life emotions through fantasy.

I loved it more as I grew up because I learned that through writing, I can create my own world. I can make my protagonists less lonely. I can make everyone understand where she's coming from. I can make them understand me without anyone knowing it's me.

Yes, writing became my escape. I had no one to confide in, so I depended on myself. I am the eldest daughter. I was taught to be selfless and to always be the bigger person. To always understand where everyone is coming from. I had no friends. And even when I found them, I can't really tell them everything that's going on in this messy brain of mine because not everyone understands. But with writing, I can be selfish. I can be angry. I can pour out all that's in my head. No judgments, no expectations. It's just me and the words spilling through the tip of my pen.

"you are nothing", "you are worthless", "you don't deserve the happiness you have right now", "you deserve the suffering", "you deserve to die", "no one likes you", "they're just faking it", "you're a disappointment", "you don't really think they love you, do you?", "hanggang kailan ka magiging ganyan?", "ang bobo mo", "hindi ka ba napapagod na paulit-ulit na lang lahat?", "tumigil ka na, itigil mo na yan", "bakit ba lumalaban ka pa din?", "wala ka ng patutunguhan"

...

the voices, although faint, echoes in my soul. and i'm getting weary.

but still, when i face other people i try to brush the voices away and i smile like everything's okay. especially to my parents who have been trying to help me get back up again. i can't show them the voices. i want you all to know that everything's okay. everything will be okay.

I don't hate people. I fear them. Books in my hand, cold sweats while I try my best to walk down the sidewalk. Eyes ahead, seeing everyone's stares. My brain starts shouting voices of unworthiness and judgment. My ears start ringing. And then there it is again, suddenly my knees are weak. I can't breathe. She falters her way somewhere and tries her best to calm down the voices inside. Sush, not here. Shut up. Stop.

the moon hides from the sun once more and she doesn't wish to be disturbed

she wants to be in her own void away from all the voices cradled like a baby hugged by her serenity

but if you need someone to hold your hand because the world can't stop spinning

if you need a shoulder you can lean on because the world won't stop moving

if you need someone's presence because no one seems to be on your side

if you need someone's lullaby because the voices won't let you sleep

if you need a hug right now because you've had enough of this world

call her; she'll try her best to be that someone, even if no one has done the same for her.

Ang gusto mo pink. Ang gusto ko blue. Simpleng pintura ng kwarto, Di tayo magkasundo. Paano girly ka, Tapos ako boyish Ang gusto natin laging magkatalo. Pero dahil ikaw ang bunso, Ang gusto mo ang masusunod. Pero ayaw ko ng pink, gusto ko blue!

Gustong-gusto mo ng chocolate, Ayaw na ayaw ko naman. Love na love mo si barbie, Pinuputol ko lang ulo niyan. Sorry, wala ka ng namana sakin Na mga plastic na manika. Pero sana 'wag mong angkinin Ang mga hilig kong stuff animals Kasi akin yun mula pagkabata. Pero dahil ikaw ang bunso, Ibigay ko na daw sayo Asa, ayoko nga. Akin lang 'to.

Sobrang magkaiba tayo nung bata. Isang bagay na ayaw ko Ay yung mga koloreteng ilinalagay nila, Habang ikaw naman Parang ayaw mo ng tanggalin sa iyong mukha

Pero kahit papaano, May pagkakaparehas tayong dalawa. Ang sabi ni nanay, Parehas daw tayong mataray Lalong lalo na nung ako ay bata, Pero kung tutuusin, mas malala ka. Pasalamat ka mahal kita.

Hindi ko na iisa-isahin pa, Ang madaming pagkakaiba't pagkakaparehas. May gusto lang naman akong sabihin, Munti kong Sisa. Oo, si Sisa talaga. SI-ssy SA-rap mong batukan.

Pag sinasaktan ka nila, Mapa-salita man o gawa, Lumapit ka sakin. Huwag ka ng magdalawang isip, loka. Sabihin mo sakin ang mga ginawa At ako na ang bahala. Siguraduhin mong hindi ikaw ang nagsimula, Baka isama pa kita sa masasakit na salita.

Pag pagod na pagod ka na At parang ayaw mo na. Lumapit ka sakin At sasampalin kita Ng mga magagaang salita Para naman ika'y magising Sa dilim na sumusubok balutin ka.

Pag pakiramdam mo Iniluwa ka na ng buong mundo. Pag pakiramdam mo Wala kang kakampi na kahit sino. Andito lang ako. Wag kang ulyanin, loka. Hindi kita iniwan o iiwanan, Pakiramdam mo lang Pero hindi. Hinding-hindi.

Andito lang ako lagi Kahit mawala pa ako ng maaga. Huwag kang praning Di pa ako namamaalam!

Basta mahal kita, babaita. Kahit di ko pinapakita. Sa simpleng mga salita, Sana'y iyong makita. Alam mo namang Hindi ko hilig ang matatamis.

Mahal kita higit pa sa aking buhay Ganoon naman ako Sa lahat ng aking minamahal. Handa kong isugal ang lahat-lahat Huwag ko lang makita na ika'y lumuluha Dahil sa hindi maipaliwanag na nadarama.

Mahal kita. At hanggang dito na lang muna Dahil wala na akong maisip Na maidagdag pa sa tula.

Sa susunod na lamang na kabanata, Kapatid kong bruha. Mula sa iyong ate Na maganda. Huwag ka ng umangal pa.

-Johanna M.L.D. Sibayan

Hi to my only baby sister. Even though you're the ugliest person I met in my life, I'm still grateful that God gave me you. And I know you're already overreacting by now, but can you calm your flat-ass down and read this until the end because you will need it in high school.

First of, congratulations. You're about to graduate from elementary soon. And to be honest, I'm still curious how you did it when you don't even study at home. And how you make me furious just by teaching you simple stuffs. But hey, here you are and I'm proud of you. Don't you dare look at me with your fake-ass flattered expression, I might throw something at you.

The reason I made this to be an open letter because I'm pretty sure there are some teenagers out there who don't have an older sibling figure to guide them through high school. I know, because I was one of those teenager once. It's better that you get a heads-up instead of just learning through experience. Trust me, it's not 'great' like what everyone says.

I'll start with the obvious things;

1. There's nothing wrong with your physical appearance. I know that you're on that stage of your life where you feel conscious about your body. But trust me when I say that it's just your mind toying with you. You're pretty just the way you are right now. What matters most is your health. Don't conform to what society tells you to be like. Please, stop starving yourself.

2. Don't give all of your love to someone else. Save some for yourself. Even if you meet the one that's meant for you right now. Don't give all of your heart out. Guard it with all your strength. Just enjoy how it feels. But also learn how to take care of your own heart. Tend to others, but tend to yourself too. It's not easy to tend to yourself when you're broken. So, please, don't give it your all. You're still a baby.

3. Don't be pressured to follow our parents' footsteps. Or even us, your siblings. I can't speak for them, but I know that whatever happens you're doing your best. Well, maybe lessen your game time and read useful stuff some times. But all in all, don't pressure yourself. We still love you anyway. You're ugly though. Really.

4. Don't listen to people who don't matter in your life. Those who are just around to talk shit. What they say most of the time are just things they spew out of envy and just mere hatred. Know who you are.

5. Be kind. Everyone goes through things they don't say to anyone. We tell you this everyday because you tend to be too judgmental. Stop that. You know yourself that it's not easy to live in this world. If you don't like someone and you know you won't have anything nice to say, just look the other way.

6. Be mindful when you're outside. You can't trust anyone. It's okay to be kind, but don't be stupid. Remember what I always tell you.

7. What you're going through right now are all valid. You're going through puberty. It's normal. Even though I want to punch you in the face most of the time because of your bitchy attitude, it's all normal. Your body is going through changes; your hormones, your mind, your feelings, your physical body. So, just let it happen. But also don't let be your personality. You're at that time of your life where you learn how to find your own persona. Just please, don't absorb bad attitudes. I don't want no more headaches.

Well, that's all for now. You're ugly. But ate loves you. Yuck.

earlier, i had a consultation with my psychiatrist and i told her that i started relapsing because i got discouraged due to the poor quality of my outputs. perfectionist kasi talaga ako. kapag di maganda 'yung gawa ko, 'di ako natutuwa. pinupunit ko or 'di ko na tinitignan ulit.

i developed this perfectionism dahil din sa expectations sa'kin. lalo na ako 'yung artistic sa pamilya. tapos 'yung mga susundan ko pa is pamilya ni mama na puro scholar at laude. and nandyan pa 'yung nanay ko na athlete, nagt-teatro, nagsusulat. lahat na kayang gawin ng nanay ko. tapos eto ako, trying to live up to them.

tuwing nakakakuha kami ng grades noon na line of 8, nasasabihan agad kami na bakit di line of 9. pag may mistakes sa quizzes kahit isa lang, nasasabihan na dapat walang mali. kaya naman eventually, i became hard on myself. kailan lang naman ako nagrebelde sa sarili ko. and it started with my way of writing. you can see it now naman. i stopped following capitalization, haha. my blog, my rules. keme, hahaha.

kaso syempre, ibang usapan pag drawings ko na. di ako komportable pag panget mga linya ko. di ako komportable pag di ko naid-drawing yung nasa isip ko. ayon, sinabi ko kay doc 'yon. sabi niya sakin na hindi daw dapat ako nags-strive for perfection kasi estudyante pa lang ako. ang isipin ko lang dapat is may maipasa akong output. kasi kung wala akong maibibigay, hindi ako maie-evaluate.

nagtawanan kami kanina kasi sabi ni doc, gawa daw ako ng parang poster tapos i-ekis ko daw 'yung perfectionism tapos lagay ko output sa baba para maalala ko na di kailangan perfect. importante may maipasa ako.

Andito na naman ako sa puntong 'to Kung saan napakabagal ng mundo ko. Isang minuto ay isang taon, Isang taon ay parang kahapon.

Mga alaalang gusto ko ng itapon Isa-isa itong nagtitipon-tipon Gustuhin ko mang makaahon Wala na akong magawa tungkol d'on.

Kahit di ko gustuhin Sasariwain lahat ng tamis Pati na din lahat ng sakit. Kung bakit mas madami ang pait Kaysa sa sarap ng hagikgik Ay gustong-gusto kong tanungin Kahit alam kong walang makukuhang balik-sabi.

Ang isiping ito'y hindi mawaglit. Kahit lamang na sa isang sandali. Mas lalo lamang tumitriple ang hapdi Sa paghahanap ng sagot Kung paano maaalis Ang kirot sa dibdib. Kaya ako na lang ay tatahimik At hahayaang matapos ang gabi Ng may luha sa aking tabi.

Ito na naman yung puntong Ang araw ay kay dilim At sa gabi'y humihiling. Ang araw na kay sakim At ang buwan na ginigiliw.

Ito na naman tayo, Buwan na siyang katukayo, At araw na aking katalo. Ito na naman, Ang araw na pinipilit akong magpanggap Kahit ang puso ko'y dusta. Wala akong magagawa Kundi ang ipinta Ang araw-araw na maskara Kunwaring masaya. Dahil kung ipapakita ang lukot At laos ng pintura Ang araw ay hindi titigil sa pang-aalipusta Sasabihin kung gaano ako kaduwag Ipapamukha kung paanong ako'y madrama.

At sobrang nakapagtataka Gusto kong itanong kung siya ba'y walang problema Kung ako lang ba Ang tanging duwag sa mata niya O siya rin kaya? Kung siya ba'y hindi nasasaktan At bakit parang hindi niya ako naiintindihan? O ako lang ba? Ako lang ba ang nag-iisip Kung paanong ang araw ay mapang-api Ako lang kaya?

Baka hindi ko lang siya maintindi Baka gusto niya lang ay ang aking ikabubuti Dahil kung magpapakain ako Sa bagal at dilim ng mundo Ay posibleng mawala ako Tulad ng kung paano binibigyan ng araw Ang buwan ng liwanag Kung paanong nakikita ko ito Dahil sa kanya. Kung paanong minamahal ko ito Dahil sa ilaw na taglay niya. Baka nga ako lang.

Pero minsan gano'n talaga Darating sa punto na mawawala ang liwanag At ang buwan ay di ko na makikita Ang mundo ay muling babagal Kahit sa akin lang. Ganon talaga, Darating sa puntong didilim na lang bigla Kahit di mo gustuhin, magugulat na lang sila Dahil ang iniirog na buwan ay mawawala Pero makakasanayan din nila

Babalik din ako, Hindi habang buhay ay kailangang ganito. Ang araw na siyang aking katalo, Ay naiintindihan ko na ngayon Kahit minsan ay hindi magkaayos Alam kong minamahal niya lang ako.

Kaya babalik ako, Pag bumalik ang sinag ng araw Pag muli niya akong mailawan At makikita mo ako Makikita mo ang bakas ng mga kahapon ko Madami man ang tumama at nanakit dito 'Di mo maipagkakaila na minamahal mo ako Ang buwan na siyang aking katukayo, Ang buwan na minamahal mo Yun ay walang iba kundi ako.

Pasensya, Kung minsan ay lungkot ang dala ko sayo. Pasensya, Kung minsan ay nawawala ako. Pasensya, Sa lahat ng pasakit na dala ko sayo. Nawa'y maintindihan mo ako. Dahil minsan darating tayo sa punto, At masasabi mo na lang, 'Ito na naman tayo'.

— Johanna M.L. "Luna" D. Sibayan

kumikislap na mga mata unan na basang-basa munting pag-asa'y nawawala unti-unti na nga bang napipiga

sumusulong ng nakapikit tinatahak ang kweba ng isip asan na ba ang mga tengang makikinig konti na lang ako ay mapupundi

ako ay hihinto sandali narito lang ako sa silid ayaw ko ng tumuloy ulit.

the void in her eyes the pain in her heart the sorrow in her head

she wants it to stop she needs it to halt she hopes for it to change

i can't type the words to say i don't know how to describe this pain i haven't figured it out yet

can i stop can i pause can i cry

may i wish may i pray may i dream

please, i want it to be gone please, i don't know what to do please, i'm afraid i'm too far gone

the tears in my eyes the pang in my heart the voices in my head

this needs to stop this needs to stop this needs to stop.