taking off

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My current state of heart (inspired by the empowering text written and published by the great Portuguese Author, José Micard Teixeira)

I’ve never been someone who puts other people’s perception of me above my own or my family’s. I do not breathe to please.

I noticed I have simply lost the patience for cynicism, excessive criticism and demands of any nature.

I no longer waste time on anything that irritates me, or simply anything that connotes negativity.

And though I was never a crowd pleaser, I found no desire to be liked by those who do not like me, loved by those who does not love me, nor smile to those who do not want to smile at me.

I shy away from people who lie or want to manipulate and people with inflexible personalities. I do not want to be in the same room with, nor even wants to hear anything that plays pretense, embodies hypocrisy, and dishonesty.

I find it harder to stand pedantry nor any form of arrogance and most certainly uncomfortable with any kind of gossiping, coercion and comparisons.

To me there is no thin line between loyalty and betrayal.

And though I get along with people who know how to give compliments and word of encouragement, exaggerations give me the creeps.

I do things for my own pleasure with absolutely no regard to cheap praise. I have not become arrogant (I do not have a reason to be). I just simply found a new freedom. Freedom to anything that waste my time and does not deserve my patience.

who I am and why I’m here

i’ve decided i have no bloody clue.

All I know I stumbled upon this side of cyberspace because of my love for reading. Then the raw emotions got me hooked and eventually found myself narrating my own.

I do not want to admit that I am writing to escape, but I do find myself here whenever I am jubilant or experiencing inner havoc. Maybe it is an escape. Or an expression. Or just plain boredom.

Thus my “what is this about” reads:

the metamorphosis of every experience into literature.
my haven when life gives me the middle finger.
the chronicles of simple cosmic events.
a witness to every orgasm.

for all intent and purposes, this is a story of my life
this is what will bring me back and somehow will remember me by.

this is where i will bleed and heal. 
it will be manic and depression evil twins combine.
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i have labile spontaneous erratic thoughts and emotions.
i have occasional thought salad.
it will be i, me and myself.
so consider yourself warned.

future ex

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they spent days holding hands

exchanging naughty smiles in public places

he would whisper swiftly into her ears,

a soft voice that makes her heart ring 

his slightest touch in her skin, 

a silent scream for yearning

it seemed like there were no days, and time stood still

everything was wondrous, too good to be true

she was broken, he was beyond repair

they were happy together, together they only long to be

on the day she had to leave

he texted her while they were in the car

“will you come back”

“yes” she replied

by then they had fallen,

and knew instantaneously that yes this is a future heartbreak 

trapped

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she once left her heart in the doorway to leave the door ajar but love never walked in.

and now even her soul feels like inside a cage and the cage is closed and the door is locked and nobody’s home.

reality tales

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I grew up with fairy tales.  and yes that lead me to believing that love at first sight exist. that true loves kiss awakens the damned. that happily ever after is definite after wedding bells and fireworks displays. simply put i was one of the girls who were set to future disappointments.

no i don’t think chivalry is dead. i am in fact a hopeless romantic. but this is not actually about me.

i am thrilled of how the stories i have founded my romantic bubbles have now been told differently. or at least been told from a different perspective. my favourite as of late is how in Maleficent the prince whom only saw Aurora once could have impossibly developed real love in the shortest impossible time. It is just unrealistic, to me its a case of “like” mistaken as “love.” I am also loving how our perception of good and bad has been played in the story. A reminder that someone so bad was also once good. And what looks scary as a horned villainy is capable of something as good as true love. And did you notice that in Frozen, heroines Elsa and Anna had no need for a prince charming to come to their rescue? if i am not mistaken, they’re the first disney women who did not have the damsel in distress syndrome.

I’m ecstatic with these near to life tales. Makes me wonder how this will shape a girl’s propensity.

 

the past and the future

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if back to the future was possible, i’d like to relive every Christmas.

back when santa claus exist.

with that child on Christmas morning. who’s joys were still naive.

when celebrations meant going to church and countless food feast with friends and family.

a time every year where different colours meet and bright lights flicker endlessly while merry carols fill the air sang by young and oldies alike.

where giving also meant forgiving. somehow hearts are softer. smiles are sincere. love truly tangible.

if you were to view my last most treasured memory from a penseive it’ll be all about the Christmas i’ve spent with my love ones.

this is what brings me back, and what keeps me looking forward.

 

 

 

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/03/31/writing-challenge-time-machine/#more-71990

from a clownfish’s perspective

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taken from one of the garden collection in Hamilton’s botanical garden, New Zealand

i am not a public figure, but i do get days when i feel the world is one big fishbowl. that feeling you are in the middle of everywhere but absobloodylutely nowhere. and that every turn you make someone will witness,  anyone will know, anybody will pass judgement…

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although you will catch me acting on a ploy, throwing punch line in a whim, utter rather revolting comments, or just ridiculously caught in a spot. i do not purposely allow myself to become the sort of amusement. or at least i do not see it that way. the truth is, inside my fragile-privy-little-fishbowl, i am enjoying watching the missmash of life as one by one they unravel their real colour as the universe conspire.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/13/photo-challenge-inside/

the name, the date, and the birthday

naming your child after one of the calendar month ain’t new. though i’d say customarily parents would opt for the likes of April and May, they sound more normal for a namesake.

and hurrah! my parents went for JANUARY.

my name is somehow unique and trite all in one (or so i think). when you have such a tag, it is almost like an obligation to clarify when you are filling an info sheet that yes i know that today is September, yup that is my name and yes that is not my birthday.

you see, the trivialities does not end with my name. my birth month is December. No, i did not pop-out of this world too early nor my parents had miscalculated my expected date of arrival. It was just simply because of a movie titled “once is not enough” that happened to be my parents’ fave movie while i was being conceived. In the movie, the heroine was named January while her birthday was on December.

growing up i did not exactly like my name. i kind of feel weird and wanted a girly girl name like Samantha, Dorothy, Barbie (maybe not) or Alice. i did not particularly enjoyed the attention i was getting with my name. as a kid i did not find being easily remembered by the teachers as one of the perks of having a handle that simply stands out effortlessly (ahem) and when you are in grade school you do not exactly want to be different, you kind of want to be the same with everybody (how sad tsk tsk).

i did easily outgrown the indifference i felt towards my name. i could not exactly remember when and how, but i simply just became my name. i learned to love it to the point i would rather be known by full name rather than the short of it. for one, i find the “story behind” a good conversation starter. normally when i tell a person my name they just kind of lighten up, perhaps because by nature we are constantly curious? works particularly well when i am introducing myself to my patients. even made a seemingly grumpy looking immigration officer smile.

though it seemed uncommonly used as a name, i have known 2 other January in this lifetime, both from my hometown (what a coincidence), a girl and a boy, then we have January Jones the actress, though all three were born on the month they were named after.

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/09/02/daily-prompt-identity/

Weekly Photo Challenge: Focus

i am a self confessed multi-tasker, combine that with my other alter ego, the full time procrastinator you’ll get… wallaaaah!… tadaaaaah!!!… hmmmmm… exactly my point… i am an ellipsis, there is a lot “in” there but you cannot exactly pin point, more so comprehend. i can be and almost always is, a series of unfinished business. i easily trail off…like in that movie, where the characters does acapella, they sang a madonna song, madonna is such an icon, hmm what shall i eat…. (see what i mean?).

i work as a nurse in a busy acute dialysis setting 40 hours a week (let us not include the unpaid break i do not normally get to use on top of that). the nature of my job alone is enough to justify how knackered i can be at the end of a days work, let alone shouldering extra responsibilities on top of your job description. i enrolled into a post graduate program, enough said. and though i am single it does not mean i don’t get domestically busy (duh, don’t get me started). and of course there are those monkey businesses on the side.

but how does a person like me get focus. YOU JUST DON’T! i mean not seriously i suppose. like when you are taking a photograph, you just take it ONE EYE AT A TIME (hence my favourite minion… yey! i got to connect my photos with my text!… not).

ever the multi-tasker i was able to squeeze this “shoot” in between taking a shower and laundry duties… and because i do not have time (hah!), they are all non-edited (no apologies). on a side note, which minion would you think will have more focus, the one with a pair of eyes or a single eye?

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Carefree

Carefree. To avoid stating the obvious I am not going to associate this word with food. Obviously my preference is way too vast that the word carefree will fall short.

In the world of microblogging posting of self-taken-close-up photo of one’s self has become nothing but the ordinary. Sometimes way too much that an entire album comprises of one person at one given time in, say, more than fifteen pictures in slightly different angle. NO, that is not what “carefree” means to me.

Carefree is when you are able to allow your candid, non-flattering, vulnerable moments captured and showed off in social media. Please do not mistake my reference to this term to pictures that gives too-much-information (TMI, a.k.a. pictures of you and your lover post private moments). This is simply you being human, flawed and yet happy with your own skin kind of way. Unscripted. Non-edited (almost).

To press my point, here are “selfie” carefree moment overload… I did warn you this blog is about “I, me and myself” ^_^

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when fear becomes real

I live in a city that has forever been preparing for disasters. Just this year the entire country had the first nationwide earthquake drill.  I remember, as part of new employees orientation was a whole day activity on emergency management. That was when i realise i live in a city that “lies within the earthquake-generating collision zone between two of the Earth’s great tectonic plates, and sits on top of one of the zone’s most active geological faults – the Wellington Fault.” Back then the danger was not real to me. 2 years ago when Christchurch earthquake happened that was when i started to entertain thoughts of “what ifs.” 3 days ago i was woken up by a nasty shake that seemed to have lasted for 15-forever-seconds and an even greater magnitude later on that day while i was at work on a hospital that was built to sway along with the earth’s movement. That was when the thoughts shifted to “when it happens.”

Originally the plan was just to find my way to the hospital where i would be of use. I guess it is the most logical since apart from i am a nurse, i do not have my family whom i have to stay behind with. Then it hit me i also need to do my part for the preparation. With the countless reminders and disaster planning tips from different New Zealand agency I was able to gather my kit to make me self-sufficient for at least 3 days.

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this is my emergency backpack
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these comprises my emergency backpack plus a 1 liter bottle of drinking water (i would probably not eat and drink much as i would hate to keep on going to a non-functional toilet anyway)
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a portable butane cooker and a collapsable 20 liters water container (we had this water hidden on different parts of the house)

At the moment i can say i am calmer as compared to the last 5 days of being edgy. I still feel my heart skip a beat even from a minor jolt and though sometimes i wonder if i am just imagining. I have become accepting that this is happening and i am surrendering it all to Him. I have a clear plan mapped out in my brain what and where to go when it happens. And it eases my heart knowing that at least my family does not have to go through this as well (the only time i am happy they are not here).

sisters

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I was going through some post in facebook and I saw this. Nice outsmarted Honey (not that one is smarter than the other). Suddenly I missed having my sisters around. Flashback of laughters shared with my sibs that normally ends with one asking for an explanation of a joke or worst a replay just brought that niggling homesickness right “in-your-face” kind of way.

Sisters. You’re the only ones who can get away with my pet peeves and the ones who will never pass judgement even when I go ballistic over “nothing.” I miss living with yous. I miss sharing a room with yous. and oh, did I mention I miss youz???

baby steps

so many books to read. so many movies to watch. so many dramas to shoot. so many thoughts to transcribe. so many places to go. so many sleep to catch up.

there is a lot to learn and unlearn.

yet so little time.

if only life has a restart button.

i want to go back to when life was not as complicated.

d cocky pinay(s)


i am far from being patriotic, sadly. there are just too many downside enough for me to put being proud of my heritage on hold. though i will never deny who and where i am from and give credit when its due. Just like on my first few months in kiwilandia, I was in awe with how friendly, helpful and hospitable filipinos can be. For example on my first week, while walking home i met a filipina on the street, though she only met me she immediately invited me in her home. On other occasions filipinos offering a free ride and giving their contact number telling you not to hesitate to call if you ever need a help. And many other instances that needless to say made me feel overwhelmed…for a while.

Then the pinoy-meets-pinoy-abroad-horror-stories-abroad set in gradually. The setback started when this filipina joined my former workplace. She was a classic crab mentality. she was the boss-bum-sucker-and-whisperer. she would voluntarily share how her family in the philippines are supposed to be well off (i use the word suppose as i cannot fathom why she needed to work night and day 16-24 hours  a day as a caregiver wiping poos if she did not have to). the list of horrible stories goes on but amongst many one disdainful filipino persona i have yet encountered tops the top list of dislikes. This is how the story goes….

you came in a party organized by a common friend of another nationality. when you and your mates arrived, you sat beside this girl, you glanced and gaved a shy smile. lo and behold, she does not see you even with your 12 inches proximity and my (ahem) hugeness.  when finally someone introduced you to her and utter the painstakingly distinguishable “she is one of your kind” you are then almost compelled but effortlessly took the chance to start a conversation. then you ask the usual casual intro chit-chat. “taga saan ka?” and you get a flat semi-delayed response “we..lling..ton(?)”. Nak nang! you clearly asked in very pinoy style where she is from the philippines. Stupified as you are you explained what you meant and that you are from visayas/mindanao. she by the way was from somewhere in manila. she then ask in an unassuming like act “marunong kayo mag tagalog?” you nearly lost your grip and wanted to sarcastically say what chance is there that she knows your dialect while say (my guess) 99.8% of pinoy and 101% of educated indio knows the national language! (does being a uni grad not written all over our well made up faces?) then the interaction did not last longer than that, the rest of the party she was only speaking to the other “kind.”

I don’t know. there is just something in this that irked me from the tip of my eyebrows. you do not need to be besties with other or every pinoys you meet. I for one are not fond of going to pinoy gatherings. but what the blemming freakin tigidig was that? and by the way you have a twin sister! yes! i have known two of these filipina sort so far. so so so sad.

oh well. maybe they had a bad experience that lead them to build such a wall. but then why the cockyness? @_@

la vita e bella

in a few months i will turn 35. and if by grace of God i will never ever get old, this would mean i am way past my mid-life.

not to be melodramatic about it, i could accurately say i have lived the life to the foolest. yes. i have done way so many foolish things enough to discount the goodness i have shed in this lifetime. i am not boasting but i am not denying, not that it will do me any good as we all know God is all knowing.

i have wasted a lot of time before getting the job i want and going to the place i wanted to go. i know it wasn’t all up to me. but if i had been more focussed and decided i would have been where i am now 10 years ago.

i have wasted time over wrong relationships. those that you would know was doomed from the very start. and yet i have willingly gambled, played, stumbled and betrayed by my own emotions. Odd though, with regards to this department, there were those i have allowed to slip off my hands and (only happened once) i have thought what if i tried and gave it a chance– there is always that voice inside saying “not meant to be” oh well it was not meant indeed.

i am not bitter. nor i am in a unhappy state or regretting what has passed. may be a “mid-life crisis” syndrome. but these are  just thoughts lingering during times of melancholy which i effortlessly do not dwell on as i know life never fails to give me reasons to smile =)

for now i will continue to savor loving relationships with my family… those i am bonded by blood and those from flourished friendships.

and my constant reminder that no matter how the struggle, as excruciating as the pain may sometimes be, even when it seems you are going against all odds, Life… in all its intents…is Beautiful

resident moanster

yes, there is a moanster brewing in me.

i live a considerably good life. i consciously know there are more reasons to be happy than to be not. but then i guess it is just the time again when every possible irritant in the world, no matter how minute, gets under my rather supposed thick skin.  Not even happy news after another happy news can provide distraction.

it does not help when you are missing a lot of people. my family for one. and that boy i hate to think has already forgotten me. (i hate that i still hate you cause we all know that means i still ____ you idiot).

i seem to find myself in this state yearly. guess you can call it the downside of being single and no longer too young. i get irritable. i absorb the negativity around me. political issues at work. personal problems of peers. my homesickness heightened. my heartaches revisited.

there is no cure. or at least i haven’t found one yet. so while this crappy mood linger, i will get by faking a smile until it becomes real. so help me God.

a poor girl’s predicament

my heart, my mind and my bank account are playing tug of war.

late last year my dear brother has already informed me of his and his partner’s plan of blessing their union with the holy matrimony. they have been living together for years, just before my five year old nephew was born. this will be the family’s first wedding, he being the second child and me being the still-single-elder-sibling. he is the only boy. i came home last year, my first yet to date. and since then i still have not fully recovered financially due to series of not-so-unfurtunate events and my usually not-so-frugal lifestyle.

so the dilemma. i can go home as my leave, though given the short notice was approved miraculously. i can afford the plane ticket, but that’s just it. but then i do not need to do anything else. i can only stay at home all the while and i am ok with that. i thought of just being practical, the plane fare can do so much with the wedding preparations. and then just carry on with the original plan of going home next year on longer number of days compared to my first return to homeland.

right this very moment i am torn. either way i feel i will somehow regret. though not being there on such a momentous event with the family weighs heavier right now. i wish for miracle. right now, i believe that money will solve everything. if only i will win the lotto.

some sad truth

you do not need to be smart, compassionate and selfless to be a nurse, though these are the qualities that separate a good nurse, and a good person.

that maturity is not synonymous to old age, thinning hair, the number of lines on the forehead and authority one holds. picture poppeye as a mascot, old, but a mascot. (do not ask me why poppeye, guess because he is bald? lol)

a person who appears well made everyday does not entail a neatly organized closet, literally and figuratively. sometimes they spend too much time putting on make-up and curling their hair that they do not have time to wash their own dirty dishes. trust me, you do not want to be flatmates with this kind.

some people love the “self” too much that everything revolves only around when they are happy, stops when they are sad and trembles when they are mad. while some are just way too short and even apologizes for being taken for granted, used and mocked.

when life hands out a lemon, you ought to simply make a lemonade. but because man is inclined to make things complicated, we look for salt, then tequila, then the rest gets fuzzy and we now have an excuse to get bitchy and horny…and what-have-yous.

the irony of life and love, though the journey matters the most, you would rather be the destination… not the stop along the way.

 

Twisted

i woke up one day and found myself in an abyss. nothing seems to be the way it is. everything is what it isn’t. what used to be no longer is. what used to be considered a taboo is now being applauded.

those days when virginity was the most precious wedding gift. when marriage was more than just a signed document. when courtship came prior to dating, then wedding bells, then honeymoon and not vice versa. now lies has color. war is happening in pursuit of peace. visible rib cage is sexy. a life is now a choice. flirting has become a sport.

i am still many years short to mid-life but then i have seen so much disarray in this lifetime than i guess my grandparent’s had in theirs. it’s not only species that are endangered nowadays, but values as well.

i have seen it up close, breathe and lived within it. my faith is nowhere near wavering, though i have somehow content myself with knowing and accepting that i am not immune to worldly things…  i pray for forgiveness but i have accepted, scary as it is, in the end i too will burn in hell.

penumbra



these are images of forgotten time that she wanna keep floating, if not disposed, in the abyss. her’s was the boogieman in her childhood and that day she was coerced and willingly gave life crossed-thumbs-down on her naked neck.

she never speak of and try not to look back to. she devoid herself of any relic, so she thought she has.

there was no mark left by the healed wound to remind her of why that brokenness.

because there was no scar, because there was no healing.