She sent me an SMS late this evening telling me that she’s going to graduate this semester. Well I was sure that she’s going to make it on the list because she’s way more conscientious in studying. But she was feeling insecure prior lately.

She asked me not to tell our parents yet since she’s still waiting for the result of another test or something. Although I don’t really get it, since she said she’d already graduate I’ll just assume that she will.. on October. I’m quite happy and proud. Happy and proud because she’s graduating. And happy and proud because Mama and Papa will have another child with a college degree. It makes me happy and proud because it’s almost overwhelming since I just graduated last April and sister will be next month. After everything that our parents had to endure – expenses, exhaustion, emotional distress, other people – by October, two of their four children would’ve finished college. I hope they feel accomplishment. I know they’d somehow feel accomplished. And proud. Imagine letting your two daughters go and just by faith and trust although with worries and pain and frustration. And now, we’re almost finished. I hope we make you proud. I hope we’re making you proud. Even if our job’s still not half done. šŸ™‚


Because I am already tired about always finding my milk either all gone or insufficient when I have been expecting that there’d still be enough left for me. It seems selfish. It sounds like I don’t even want to share. But it’s not really the case. I don’t work. I’m still depending on my parents for everything. Our situations are different. I don’t expect much but at least spare some understanding. Already been too thick-skinned for too long with the parents. Sorry still doesn’t matter. It’s worthless and I don’t need it. Everything’s almost always a joke. Or at least the way they’re delivered. But still irritated. Maybe I’m taking things too seriously. Maybe I just need to change my point of view. But I can’t help but always feel like this whenever that kind of jokes happen. If you really don’t mean it, then can we just move on and leave all that fuck behind? Unless of course you mean it then I think that’d be a bigger problem.


I’m sorry I’m such a snub.

Sorry that I did not try to embrace Tatang. Sorry that I did not even touch him. Sorry because I only tried to look him in the eye even if I know that he can’t see me that clearly. Sorry if I forgot to bring him pasalubong or anything when I came home.

Sorry that I ignored Papa when he tried to makeĀ lambing and asked for a kiss when I was getting ready to leave. Sorry I just dismissed it.

Sorry because I did not try and talk to my cousins and Aunt and Uncle who were only in your house which is beside ours. Sorry because I only spoke to them when I was about to leave.

Sorry because I forgot to get in touch with a friend who I miss. And who missed me too. Sorry because I only remembered when Papa told me a story about her and her father.

Sorry because I did not visit my Aunts.. who, despite their being loud and tactless, really care about us. I just realized this, or maybe remembered, when Mama told me some old stories about them.

Sorry because I don’t think I really bonded with my two brothers. And even though I took care of Coline for one whole morning, I don’t really think it’s enough considering that she might already be a mother when I come back home again. She won’t be our/a baby anymore.

Sorry because I seem to almost always think of myself when I’m with my sister. Sorry whenever I take advantage of her patience. I hope my make-up ways are enough.

And sorry because Mama really tries hard to understand me. I know it. I know it because I feel it. Whenever Papa teases me, she always has something to say in defense of me. Or she stops him. Sorry because all I do everytime she tells and/or asks me to study well is nod, grunt, and/or dismissively say yes.

Sorry because I did not try to reach out. Sorry because all I thought about was myself. Sorry because I only cared about myself. I was at home for more than two days. And all I did was be by myself when I almost always do that in the city. Sorry I did not really do anything that worthy.

Sorry I am obviously taking almost everything for granted. Sorry I’ve been so selfish. I am not promising to be not like this anymore. But I promise to be better.

I will remember you for the rest of my life, Inang.

After recently figuring out what I really felt/feel about your death eight or nine years ago, I thought I could then remember you without feeling like bursting into tears. But now I remember you with a heavy heart. I still feel like bursting into tears. Although this time it’s not about your death anymore. It’s because of this. I remembered you because of a picture I saw on a social networking site. It wasĀ of an elderly woman selling vegetables. I remembered you because when I was a child, you used to bring me with you to sell some vegetables in the market. I remembered you and I am apologizing to you for the things that has something to do with other people because I think what I am doing now, or what I amĀ not doing now rather, was also my case with you.

I failed to tell you everything. You took care of us when we were kids since Mama and Papa were almost always at work. You went away without me telling you anything. I hope I was able to tell you something when I was still a kid. I hope I was able to make you feel it. I hope you felt it.

I will remember you always, Inang. I love you always. Sorry if I never told you that.


Why’d you let it get to this?

Why’d you wait for things to come to this?

Do not try and tell me that this is who you are. Because I won’t fucking believe it. You might be who you actually are if you get past this one who you are now.

No one should be telling this to you except yourself (or your mother perhaps), but Ā please, be better. Be your better self. Be more. Be not like this. Be better.

I know you’re stubborn. But you’re also smart. Save your life. We can only do much. Do something. Please try and do something. Forget the fucking overrated too-often overused pride. Do not wait for death. Do something about life. Do something. Save yourself from yourself.


Maybe my parents already know me. Or they’ve learned a bit. After seven or eight change of addresses for the past six years, maybe they could already guess.

Maybe it’s because of the weather. Maybe the gloominess sapped life energy out of me. Or not. Could be. Maybe it magnified everything. I didn’t really think I was that kind of person until lately. I don’t know why I can’t stay put. I know I’m restless but I didn’t know up to what extent. To think that if I’d get married or love and be loved, I’d want someone who could stay with me for the rest of life. Who can I stand? Or rather, who can stand me? Yes. Family. They can stand me. Whatever I do. They can stand me. And I can get angry. I can not talk for eternity. I can be lazy (at times). They’ll be mad at me. They could curse me and the sky. But they’ll never they can’t leave me. Ha-huh. Selfish. But head’s too cloudy to think about other things.

This is too early. Way too early. But different people at the same time. Understandable. But I still think that this is too early. I cannot call my parents and hear them say “I told you so” or something to that effect. I cannot call my parents because I will try and give things a chance. Due dates, if you may.

This thing makes me think about that cutting off things or stopping when things are still, well, happy. We cannot always push our lucks.

Take away all my fucking sadness now, Mr. Rod Stewart. As if this is even sadness.


Can’t decide. Wrong reasons. Doing something less right. Let me do this for once. If I do this, I’d be more compelled to avoid doing it in the future. Wrong timing. Nonetheless. Let me. Can’t go to the beach. Can’t keep myself cool. Head’s warm. I feel warm. Not sick. Just feels warm. Don’t feel well. Not feeling well since the weekend. Fock. Fock. Must get out. Must. Don’t know where. Don’t know if I can. Of course not. Must stop feeling like this. I will skipĀ  class today. Bad idea. Don’t want to move. But bad idea. I could ’cause I can so I do. Bad idea. Don’t want to see you. Don’t want to go there. But will be at home doing things completely about you. Not quitting. Just making use of the privilege. Unless you know me shut up.

Someone said we must not only do our best we must do what is required. Fuzz you. Not always. I have a choice. You won’t die of my choice. Shut up.


Experienced itches. But today’s the first time that I experienced The itch. I actually find it hard to stay in one place. I always find something I can’t (or maybe can but I’m too stubborn/impatient to tolerate) stand. Maybe that’s why I almost always find it hard to finish what I start. Oh hell. I only finish a few. Fuzz. Fuzz.

Fock.