Untitled: Entry #9

What happens when two guarded people try to break each other’s walls.



A fight here and there.

They try again.

They’ll fail.

But they’ll try over and over.

Because it’s worth it.

The chance is so worth it, failing once, twice, or a million times isn’t going to be an obstacle.

Sure, they’ll get hurt.

They’ll doubt if this is worth the time.

Worth the pain.

Is it worth the struggle to let your guards down?

Is it worth the fall?

Is it worth the destruction of the wall you’ve both tried so hard to build around yourselves after being hurt?



But you don’t need to break each other’s walls or put your guards down.

You just have to let each other in.


Untitled: Entry #3

I will keep this short.

I don’t know what I’m not ready for. Is it the ghost of old memories haunting me as I move forward, or the idea of making new ones and eventually leaving them behind as well? Is it the pain of the past, or the uncertainty of the future? Is it because of the walls built around oneself that we are afraid to cross or the knife we use to peel ourselves to reveal a little bit more?


I don’t know.

I Couldn’t Care Less

You know what they say about our minds wandering about when we take showers? It’s true for almost everyone, myself included. We take showers everyday, it has become a routine that our mind goes off into thinking other things freely. (And quite clearly if I may say.)

Just recently, my time in the shower made this article possible: Heart on a String, I was washing my hair then, they’re brown at that time. It reminded me of a rope. I had my heart broken then, so broken I can feel it bleeding (not that my heart isn’t always bleeding, after all, it’s supposed to pump out blood). I felt like the water running down my hair was the oceans and seas, trying to wash away my pain. And my hair which I had colored quite untimely, that time was the string holding out my wounded heart in a sea of emotions. Then I thought, my heart was the bait. Oh yes, it was the bait, for all the fish in the sea. But I also thought, no, I don’t want another fish to catch that bait. I have to pull the string and save myself.

They say it’s the place and time where the toughest decisions in our lives are made. It’s true for some and I guess for me as well. That day I decided to pull the string and keep my healing heart at bay. Tonight, as I was exhausted from the heat of the day and the troubles earlier in the night, I took a bath. And I realized, that the problem I have with these emotions for someone—who for all we know (and all we don’t) doesn’t even bother about me as much as I bother about him, is nothing. Nothing compared to the problems I have faced, I am facing and will be facing in the future. I realized that I couldn’t really care less anymore.

I couldn’t care less in both its possible meaning. That I have cared so much, just so much to care less is beyond me. And that I, after caring so much have burned everything in my expense, I just couldn’t care anymore.

I’m giving myself a break.

——-nothing follows——-


The past few days/weeks have been a hell of a ride. There were a number of ups and downs, but mostly downs. You know they say, “when it rains, it pours”? Mine poured all at the same time, I almost drowned. Luckily, I have people I can turn to when I can no longer stand the pain. People who pulled me out of the cold blue waters.

Have you ever asked yourself what would become of you when you have no one to turn to when you’re in deep deep pain? Should you really just hide whatever you’re feeling deep inside?

I say, NO.

Could you imagine yourself keeping every single feeling, all the pain and sorrow in your heart. You let this fill you up until your heart can no longer take it. It’s filled you up that you suddenly burst. Can you imagine how it would actually feel to explode just like a bomb?

It’s an interesting thought, but I daresay that you should never let your pain engulf you. Share the burden if you must. Sometimes it’s not enough to shout your thoughts into thin air, you sometimes need a living thing to actually hear you out and punch you, slap you, or hug you when you need it and when you deserve it.


I do not regret telling my story, because if I did not do that, I would have succumbed to the pain, I would most probably have exploded. I say this not to spark a war. I say this because I know you feel pain, I do, too. I try my very best to be okay, because what good would it do me to keep myself so low? And I am genuinely concerned about you, if I haven’t made that clear. But I just cannot talk to someone, who obviously does not want to talk to me. This is my emotional dump site. It has always been. That never really changed.


I never really thanked you guys enough. Sobrang maraming salamat, although, wag nyo na akong asarin please. I pour my heart out once, enough na yun. 🙂

PPS Hello Vicky and Darren for the wonderful idea of exploding. 😛

Caught Off Guard


You should never try to surprise me, or approach me so suddenly. It will always turn out bad. Either I would have nothing else to say but one-liners such as “yeah“, “ok lang” etc. Or I would not say anything at all and just nod or shake my head in response.

Or maybe because it was you who asked me; finally talking to me, starting a conversation I did not try to embark… But surprise, surprise, I was speechless. I couldn’t say much. It’s just too much. The awkwardness in your tone, the suddenness of your voice, and the sadness in your eyes. It’s way too much for me to handle all in one go. I wanted to talk to you. I do, but then I did not. Cause I did not know what to say. If, before I have always been the one person who tries to save a dying conversation… For once, I was the one who killed the fire you started…

I’m sorry. I am just waiting for everything to be back to the way they were before. I was not, and I never was waiting for things to be reciprocated. I am just waiting for my friend to come back… For you to be back. Because you might be there physically, but you’re not the same person I used to know

And I do regret not keeping the conversation, because when you turned your back on me again, I was caught even more off guard. I never thought I could be caught off guard by the same act over and over. It’s as if i never ends.

I really miss you. And right now, I am starting to feel that I should have never said what I did. The ”what ifs” are haunting me like a nightmare. What if I was not honest? What if I just told you a lie?  What if I just kept my mouth shut? What if I just kept you guessing? Will things be how they were? Would I be happy? Would you be as happy? 😦

Gabriella Montez once said:

“But you better step away from the mirror long enough to check the damage that will always be right behind you. “

Maybe I’m too close to the mirror that everything I have damaged is right behind me. My pride, my ego, our friendshipMaybe I just need to step a little further away from the mirror, which in this case is you… But won’t distance just make things worse? Or maybe I just need to let it go… But friendships aren’t something I’m fond of giving up on… And as soon as I do that, I will never find peace, because one can forgive but it’s just too hard to forget.

Especially when the memories you are trying to forget are happy ones…

Sadness In A Glass Jar

You don’t put sadness in a glass jar.

Especially if the glass jar is your heart.

It’s fragile and it’s vital.

But when you’ve got nowhere to hide all the sadness that you feel, you can’t help but keep it there. It’s just there on your chest, conveniently waiting for you to exhaust it.

Days would pass and you would fill your jar with sadness. Sometimes, full up to the brim. And then your glass jar would slowly crack up. Breaking at a slow pace; because the sadness you kept inside it is boiling.

And as it continue to boil, you feel your jar shattering. Wounding you from within. Scaring your insides, scars invisible to the naked eye but are as deep as your worst fears.

And finally as sadness is replaced by pain, when all you can do is squirm at your own agony, you give in to your tears. Tears you held so long, trying to be strong. Just then realizing that it did you no good. So you cry your heart out, wipe your tears when you get tired and start to move on.

And by then you’ve learned that bottling your sadness is a crime.

I’m Wounded


I’m so clumsy I always make things fall…

The book on the table, my phone, the box of accessories, sometimes even the spoon and fork…

I’m so clumsy, it hurts me… Today I hit a wall, it wounded me…

I’m so clumsy I always make things fall…

Why won’t you?

Well, you’re not a thing after all.