Friends and Paint


The semester is starting to end (yeauh) and now I am left alone because each friend has a paper to do, or an exam to study for, or has to catch some nap time before their shift starts.

It seems that our group has not had the time to hang out as much, unlike before (even branding our group “Clingies”). Two have graduated from the University, five of us are working (part-time and full-time), the rest are still studying.

Clingies no more, I guess.
But still in touch, since most of my friends are now BBgirls, they have immediate access to each other, and everyone is always just a text away. But being virtually together does not live up to being together in person.

I think I just miss them too much, that I am actually blogging about them. And I keep cooping myself inside our newly painted house, I sometime feel high when I wake up in the morning.

(Here I go jumping into topic after topic).

Ugh, bye.



Finally 🙂

Sankage Steno

Inspired by an Inquirer article. 

It was an amazing experience talaga. I was standing on the platform of the Q. Ave station of the MRT. I saw these many, many middle-class tao who make siksik themselves on the yellow tiles. I was surprised coz it’s so dangerous kaya. But I came to realize how brave the Filipinos pala. Imagine, standing on the edge of the platform for a train ride — that’s like something!

And when the train finally arrived, all of them made sakay the MRT, as in mega push to insert their bodies. I was like, Whoa! Is that even for real? It’s so nakakabilib. Why is everybody so keen on rubbing elbows with everyone? Are they even rich and famous like me? At first, I was a bit inis to them because it was so barbaric to the eyes. But then I came to this deep…

View original post 540 more words

Para sa’yo Tatay


Apparently it’s Fathers’ Day tomorrow (Sunday), and I just realized this yesterday/last night when my friends kept saying there was a “Father’s Day Sale” in malls.

The reason why I wasn’t aware that it was already Fathers’ Day is because I do not keep track of this special day; not like the way I always mark on my planner the Sunday when Mothers’ Day is celebrated. I do not keep track because I do not have a father, or I do not know my father, rather.

I was born to only a mother’s care, a mother’s touch, and a mother’s love. I was never told by my mother the story about my father. Nada. Absolutely no information whatsoever about him. 

At first I always questioned my mother’s decision to keep him from me; it is my right to know, even just the name of my father, isn’t it? And yet as I grew older the curiosity just faded. I have grown accustomed to being father-less, and I must have forgotten that there is a man out there who could be my father.

I think what helped me cope with not knowing the identity of my father is that there are several father figures in my life. Uncles, Mum’s best friends, teachers, and of course Mum becoming both the mother and the father to me.

A friend (Dawn) recently asked me about him; where he is right now, what I know about him, why does it seem like I have lost interest in uncovering who he really is.

Where he is, I don’t know. What I know about him, nada. Why does it seem like I have lost interest in uncovering who he really is, well I haven’t. I never did, and I never will; I will never lose hope. It’s just that I’m good with hiding my emotions. It may not be obvious, but I always wonder about him, who wouldn’t? But one thing that keeps me from really finding out about him is the rejection that I might get. It would be devastating. And also the fact that I have lived my twenty one years without him makes me ultimately proud of my mother, and slightly makes me forget that there is a need for me to know my father.

So to end this post, I would like to greet my uncles, my other papas and daddies and my cousins who are already fathers, and of course my dearest father, Happy Fathers’ Day. I hope you are happy, wherever you are.