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Forever 21

My sister and I were trying out an eyebrow tint gel yesterday. My mom gave me the pair of office pants I requested her to repair. We spent the whole afternoon waiting for the electricity to come back so we could watch TV. 

Then I suddenly blurted out that I feel like we’re still in our 20’s even if I would be turning 32 in 3 months.

This whole ageing thing has not fully dawned on me. Adulting as they call it nowadays, entails taking full responsibility for yourself. While I live alone and take care of myself, I still feel like a kid. A young person still yearning to discover more of the world. My body hs some aches and pains that weren’t there before, but I cannot grasp the concept that I have been on this earth for 32 years.

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Pokemon Go

Found a new weekend bonding activity with my sis–hunting Pokemons in known spawn spots in the city! So far, we’ve tried the following areas: Eastwood, Quezon Memorial Circle, Eton Centris, Mall of Asia Seaside, Ocean Park, Luneta, Quirino Grandstand, Nayong Pilipino (entrance only).

The beauty of this game, especially for kids of the 90s, is you get to live out the adventures of a Pokemon Trainer. What was once a well-loved cartoon can now be an actual weekend activity thanks to the internet, smartphones and apps.

There are currently 140 monsters available to catch and I’ve already caught or evolved 100 kinds. The last 40 are elusive ones and will take a lot of effort to hunt.

I’ve heard stories of people my age who hunt in the morning and after work. Some stay in spawn spots from 10PM – 2AM the following day just to wait for rare Pokemons. While I don’t think we’ll ever go through those lengths (or, will we?), I look forward to the many weekend hunts to come.


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I can no longer count the times someone has said to me that talking to me has helped calm them down. I consider this as a great compliment and am only glad to be of service to my dear friends and sometimes even exes.

I am absolutely unaware of where this relaxing effect is from or how it comes about, I am just sincerely, happy to have helped in a such a simple way.

Many a times, I have thought that this must probably be my role in life. The ability to pacify people has come in handy in my work life as I have always found myself in customer-facing type of work.

And almost in the same breath, I feel that deep longing—my heart’s prayer—to meet someone who can do the same for me. Someone to make me feel at home. If the universe would be so kind as to give me more than one person, that would be grand! But, I’ll be forever grateful for even just one to whom I can reveal my innermost thoughts and feelings without the fear of being rejected or judged. Most of all, I ask that that person not to be dismissive about some of my rather dark emotions.

“Everybody has a dark side,” so the song goes…

But I guess for most, we keep that side of ourselves tucked away in secret places lest we turn people off.


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I’ve been thinking about scripting in the psychological sense lately. I remember having read that the script your parents told you—verbally or through their interaction with you—would be the script you tell yourself your whole life.

Supposedly, it’s that pervasive inner voice that echoes throughout your being. It could be uplifting or damaging, depending on what your parents or authority figure in your life said or made you feel. Awareness of the script can empower you to either nurture that script into fruition if it’s great, say “you’re awesome.” The same awareness could push you to fight the script if it’s particularly debilitating to your growth as an adult; for example: “you’re dumb and will never amount to anything.”

In my little head, I have the following scripts swimming around:

“You’ll be pretty when you lose weight.”

“You are not pretty so you should at least dress well.”

“You are not pretty so you should be smart.”

“Your eyes/face looks dumb.” or “You look dumb.”

“You will have diabetes.”

“You are not the prettiest niece, maybe you’re third prettiest.”

Typing the scripts above was difficult. They came from people I love and respect and yet the words are truly hurtful. They’ve been etched on my mind (and heart) and as much as I try to resist it, I remember them constantly as I go about my daily life.

When I am meeting someone for the first time, facing a client, doing a presentation—whenever I need the most confidence—these scripts pop in and remind me of my inadequacies looks-wise. That’s why failure in school or work hit me doubly hard. If I fail to perform in the ‘brains’ department then what do I have left? Nothing, just my fugly, scarred face.

Having PCOS and it’s many symptoms does not help either. I feel less and less a woman, and I dread being looked at by anyone. I use my humor to shield myself from other people’s eyes…I figured if they’re laughing they won’t notice my imperfections, if I make them laugh they’d at least like me for my personality.

Everyday, I do battle with these scripts.  Looking at the mirror each day, I face my demons.


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Beach myself

Usually when I say I want to “beach myself” it is in the context of my friends and I making a joke out of grammar and planning a trip.

But a couple of years back, probably 3, I sincerely was filled with the desire to beach myself as marine animals would.

Often, wounded or ill marine mammals like whales and dolphins who find themselves too weak to keep themselves afloat just hand it over to the waves to wash them ashore to their eventual demise.

I imagine (and definitely hope) it to be a soft and calming experience, like the sea that they’ve called home all their lives is finally cradling them to their grave.

I would love to have that choice–to have that wonderful gift to elect an appointed time and date of my end.

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Winding down

Since I turned 27, I’ve been rounding off my age to 30.

I’ll get there anyway, I say…unless, of course, I expire suddenly.

I do not shy away from talking about death, least of all my own. Lately, I’ve been catching myself thinking about it more and more.

The more the thought of death dwells inside my head, the more appealing it becomes. Dying.

It’s supposed to be my mid-life, based on life expectancy projections, but I really feel like I’m almost wrapping up. 

You know, just gathering a few more things here and there, making the last handful of memories, learning some of the final important lessons I’ll need before I am finally ready to go.

I wonder how it will happen… what will it feel like when I close my eyes for the last time in this mortal body?

What will it feel like when I open my eyes to my new existence? Will I even get to feel it? Will I still continue to exist?

To my mind, these are not sad thoughts. Leaving this life is not a sorrowful fate.

Being left alone in this life by the people you love, is a whole different matter. 

I’d rather leave than be departed from.