Falling in love is just like falling off a cliff, they say. Dangerous. Exciting. Something that will truly hurt.

But you disagree. ¬†Falling in love has nothing to do with hurling yourself off a cliff, nor is it like so. It’s more of just standing there, small pieces of rock crumbling underneath your toes, where both the view and the risk of falling and meeting death is both present and exhilarating. Falling in love, you whispered, is holding oneself at risk for worthwhile beauty.

And when I looked down at our hands tightly intertwined, closing my eyes as I leaned my head against your shoulder, listening to the sound of your heartbeat, knowing full well that the wind was more than just a playful breeze and we were standing on the very edge of a precipice, I couldn’t have agreed more. I think about the sleepless nights and the fights; the doubts and the make-ups; the hours of crying and laughing at the same time. We’ve fallen in love, got stuck in it, and now living out its metaphor.


Background Will Never Matter.


Truthfully, it may seem like it will. From your family name to your school to your address. All of these, I’m sure, will make an impression – a given reputation and a standard to reach. Background opens up opportunities without you looking for them.

But it will never matter – you will merely join the throng of individuals who are stereotyped because they’re a relative of this and came from that. It may open up job offers and give you added respect, but it will never matter to who you are as a person. Background will not define how you act, even if it will give people the chance to speculate how you will. Background will not give you admirable traits. Background will not guarantee privileges, only possibilities. Background will not pave your way to success: it will merely get the thread inside the needle, but after that, you’ve got to do the sewing yourself.

Create a name for yourself. Don’t let your background do it for you. Don’t use it to define who you are, or to gain superiority as an individual. After all, belonging does not always mean being.


In my head I can see it: God’s hand placing us on Earth and taking away bags of our belongings, scattering its contents around the world, so that we may find every piece of ourselves as we travel from place to place. I see it as His idea of a treasure hunt, with coincidences and gut feelings and inevitable happenings as our proddings and clues. We get back our long lost pieces and find gems of insight on ourselves and the world. And when we’ve seen enough and gotten back most of our belongings; when we’ve retired to old rocking chairs and reaching for the warmth of our spouses; when we’ve lived all and everything, we go on the last, and most important travel of all, where we finally reach the gift of ¬†understanding; the reward of living through every blunder and failure and moments of triumph and happiness.

Death. The travel to the unknown.



No regrets. No hopes. Just filled with that uncertainty of new beginnings. I exist in neutrality, and I have no idea if it’s good or not. People say that happiness comes after acceptance, but they never mentioned the transitioning that was involved. All I know is that eventually, it’s going to be better.

But sometimes I worry that that’s not the case at all; that I had put every last bit of belief in higher beings and laws of attractions over some stupid thing like being kicked out of my high school (okay, not a stupid thing, I’m just trying to downplay it), and now as I bask in disgrace as people raise their eyebrows at the news, I’m drained of all expectations and ambitions. Got a one track mind; specific school was supposed to be the way to success, not to be a statistic to add to their number of students who doesn’t have what it takes. Just like my mindset when doing their entrance exam two years ago: no other options. The way I saw it, the prestige and my grades was surely going to get me to a good college, then a good career, then a good life for my family, then a good life for me. Pass and survive this school as a scholar for twelve years or else. While that kind of thinking got me through all-nighters, twelve cups of coffee and scrounging up hope from the cemeteries where I buried my failed math tests, it never prepared me for the “or else” part. When the unthinkable might happen.

And happen it did. When all was said and done, when the school year was over, when I was still waiting for the news, I prayed and wished and used up 11:11’s. Desperation at its finest. All for nothing, by the way – except disappointment at myself. Very, very deep disappointment at myself. Deeper than Adele. Deeper than John Green books. Deeper than the depths of the damn oceans. Think absolute darkness and a black hole inside your soul. Depressing. That’s the word.

I’m afraid that I’m not just transitioning because I know I will be better, but, rather, I’m stuck in apathy – not just at the world, but at myself. (Though making a whole blog post about this is making me doubt that…) It’s like… After thinking, “What’s done is done,” I’ve got goals set, and I’m going to follow them. That’s all there is to life. A tiny part of me lays awake at night, scared and assessing, thinking back to my post about always living in wonder and finding myself, although able to be intrigued, just sitting waiting to get to work on success. Nothing matters at all but the latter. All because I put all my time and energy to something fixable and replaceable. It doesn’t bother me now, but it had taken away something from me: something I willingly offered anyway, but it still feels like it’s been stolen.

I don’t know what to call it. Happiness? Life? Presence? Whatever it is, its absence makes me feel that whenever I write something humorous or descriptive, it’s like I’m pretending to have it back. While in reality, I have no idea where it went at all.


After reading this article, I agree with him. There is no law that prevents Senator Bong Revilla from running. The Philippines does have dirty politics. He may even be saying the latter because he’s an example as he lies through his teeth about his supposed innocence. Or maybe he’s telling the truth and he is being framed. Whichever just shows he’s stated one hell of a fact: the dumps are sparkly and clean compared to the government. We can’t even say voters should choose wisely because many things are hidden; many of us are being fooled – as a result, everyone is losing faith for our country’s progress. As everyone turns their backs, we get even more stuck. We can’t progress without cooperation and transparency, and with the justified lack of trust between the people and the government, I can only hope that we’d make it.