The girl who’s always ignored

I am the girl who is always ignored.

People amaze me. I always believed that each person lives seeing a different view of the same world I am looking at.

I always wondered how it would feel to be them or, if by any chance, if they were thinking about how another goes about existing.

So, I try to be part of their world if only to understand my life, this life, thru their experience. I gained friends who I loved and adored. Not only because they are skilled and talented but because they are all nice and they would make a wonderful member of my made up family of acquaintances.

And then I grew up and fell in love. The kind of love you vow into “from now throughout a lifetime”. So, I do everything to keep them with me. To keep them, him mine.

But then after all the caring, the “how are you” texts, the hellos, and thousands of failed attempts for a date or a reunion, I became the friend, the ex lover, the acquaintance they ignore.

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It is as if my presence never mattered that they don’t mind me waiting at all. Waiting for their replies, their time, them loving me back.

I am the girl who is always ignored. The girl whose messages are always just seen.

I am the girl who hurts. All the time. But who cares? No one does. And one day, I will be growing tired. And one day, they will be my used to be friends who I will also ignore. Not because I turned bad, but because I will get used to being ignored I could forget they even existed.

Christmas in a cup: Starbucks Peppermint Mocha

I am not a Starbucks fan—I had like two to three Venti cups way back some three years ago and that was all about me trying coffee the shop way.
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I went with a friend to the nearest Starbucks just across the building I work at and landed my hands on one of their infamous Holiday Drinks. Yes, the Starbucks Holiday Drinks that will get you stickers to collect for your 2017 planners. For my midday coffee trip, I opted for the Starbucks Peppermint Mocha.

I am no expert, but as a first time drinker who can actually give recommendations based on what I think is good, here’s the verdict: for a non-SB fan, I’d give it a 7/10.

It’s Mocha

If you’re looking for a stronger kick of caffeine that will wake you up, I say this drink is not the one for you. It tastes more like it’s chocolate mint than it is coffee.

However, the blend is quite perfect that first time drinkers won’t find it weird. It’s actually something that will give you a feel of the holidays: sweet, relaxing, and crisp.

The way they present it… total eye candy!

It’s strong

I loved how it tastes but the back lash is I got quite acidic for the rest of the day after drinking it. And it also has a real strong sweet aftertaste. Something that will encourage you to get a glass of water afterwards.

Nonetheless, the real treat here, that might work for younger coffee drinkers, was with the whipped cream and the sprinkles. When you get to the bottom part, you would be tasting a combination of chocolate, vanilla, and mint that would feel like you’re sipping a mouthful of melted chocolate bar.

Would I recommend it? Yes, I would. But again, if you prefer coffee, this Starbucks Holiday Drink won’t give you a taste nor aroma of one.

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Why am I loveless, you say?

It has been three years ago,  going on four, since I last had a relationship. As I approach my late twenties, people question my being single.

I have become an adult and I’d like to believe it will be inevitable, at a certain age, that one will be the subject of queries on marriage during family dinners as I am now.

I have to admit I am private. I did not want anybody knowing about  my relationship and I did not want telling anybody anything.

But for your knowledge. I had a relationship.

Then I got hurt. And it was awful. I was joyless for months and all I had were tears. I lost all the care I had in myself, thinking and feeling I suddenly became purposeless. All because the person who loved me, who was not family, realized he no longer sees the rainbows in my eyes and I was no longer the love he won.

I couldn’t bear seeing him happy with his friends while I was in pain. I experienced a kind of brokenness I have not realized existed. Every song felt like a stab in the chest, every couple on the street felt like an insult to my commitments, everything was him and he was anguish.

I no longer want that. And I don’t want to feel that grief again.

So why am I loveless?

It is not that I hate love. I do wish to find my own someday.  Oh, goodness, and if only you know how much I want that someday to be tonight. But… I was hurt too much to even think of allowing chances lead to that again. I was hurt too much to go back to that again. I. Was. Hurt. I am hurt itself.

I loved too much that I cannot let it go. Not because I want this to stay but because I believe it was real.  And real love stays with you for the rest of your life. I believe that if that has come, it does not always become mutual.

Why am I loveless? I am not. Because I have that still. Maybe the better question is why are you alone in love?

But for the sake of curiosity, and if it could be of a consolation, I am alone in love because I have not moved on. I have accepted loss but have not lost the emotion.

Probably, I have met the one for me, but he will never be ready. And as far as I know what I am feeling now, no one can ever be him.

Why am I alone in love? Because he will never be ready and no one can ever be him.

Why I am anti Marcos Burial and why I am still accepting my 13th month pay

There’s no denying that Marcos was one of the most advanced thinking presidents the Philippines had. Economically, technologically he did a lot of good (w/c we still benefit from and will benefit from).

Am I a supporter of Marcos burial in the Libingan ng mga Bayani? I am not. But that doesn’t mean I am taking political sides.

Honestly, I am at awe at how intelligent he had been and I am happy with the advances in urban development he spearheaded. But the gravity of the consequences of his declared martial law somehow outweighed all the greatness he accomplished.

Technically, he never hurt the victims. It were the people who abused their granted powers then who did. Nonetheless, his decree  incited ruthless acts and the outcry of the masses is far too heart wrenching and overpowering that his systematic achievements as a Philippine President had been toppled over. As a result, the surprise Marcos burial in the Libingan ng mga Bayani led the people to the streets again.

Though the intention was sincere, we still can see different political agenda being inserted into the matter. Pathetic.

I am not pro this nor anti that… I am pro Filipinos having a good life they deserve.

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photo not mine

The 13th Month Pay Challenge

Then here comes the challenge.

Marcos was the proponent of the law that states that every employee must be given a “13th month pay” by the end of the year—that is a type of wage bonus about one to two months worth of salary.

Now, people say that if you’re against Marcos burial in the Libingan ng mga Bayani, you must not accept this bonus to show how strongly principled you are.

As former President, it was his obligation to help produce a quality life for Filipinos. Thus, passing of this law was his duty.

More so, originally, the workers included in this decree were only those earning P1,000 and below a month. After his reign, it was amended by the Cory Aquino administration to be granted to all employees regardless of income. As such, it is then a combined effort from two different Philippine Presidents and since then has become a basic right of the working class.

So, if you’re anti the LNMB burial, should you give up your 13th month pay? Not necessarily. A right is different from bribery. Why should you give up the privilege that is rightfully yours especially your bonus is the fruit of your hard annual labor?

Yes, he was the proponent but it was because he ought to.

Should we accept this challenge, it then must be equal to not using the public highways and technically not being part of anything today that stemmed from Marcos’ economic partnerships and projects with other nations. Where would Filipinos go then, when every economic or national gain we have today has built up on top of each other that it will be plainly difficult to label them as achievements of a particular administration only?

With this, the blueprint of Filipinos’ way of living after the martial law is the result of the democracy and is the payback from all the shortcomings and the horrors of that period brought upon to the people.

Our gains today is our privilege. It is our basic right. It is the “Filipino Life” not the “Marcos labelled Filipino Living.”

Again, as a former President, Marcos was great. But not all great people produce only great things.

If you are given a share of something legal you worked hard for, it is lawful and moral. There are logical boundaries to what we deem righteous—it’s relative. Stop judging people who disagree with your beliefs. Halt from challenging people to prove what they are fighting for.

To forgive and move on

Basing from legal criteria, Marcos’ burial in the Libingan ng mga Bayani is legal. He was a president and a soldier. However, in the judgment of people who lost loved ones who never get to know what happened to their children, wife, husband, sister, or brother,  it is a spat to their loss and pain.

While Marcos is finally laid to rest, their wandering minds continue to ask lingering questions—where is s/he? When can I build a tombstone in my beloved’s name?

Yes, we must forgive. We must forget. But how can we possibly forgive when forgiveness was never asked?

How can we forget, when the very same right to a decent burial that was given to a deemed dictator was never granted to victims we would never know what happened with?

Though a name maybe just a name, it cannot cover the fact that among the heroes who fought against terrors in society, The President who incited public hysteria was laid to rest with them.

Perhaps, our definition of a hero is flexible. Depending on the ideals that are favorable to whoever’s in power.

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photo not mine

A missive for my expected child

Dear My Anticipated Child,

If ever this gets to you, it means that my life has turned out perfectly well after the heartbreak and the immense hope and you are the commencement of all the laughter, the tears, the pain, the pleasure and every word you can think of that comes along with love or marriage.

Congratulate me, your mom, on this. It was never easy getting you “here.” Before you think of anything else, what I meant was “this life”, “you”, and most importantly, “your father.”

He is the man I know I wanted to marry the first time I saw him. I remember perfectly that he was wearing a black, leather jacket, denim, and Rayban. He had a smirk on his face as he approached me.

And me? Well, I was wearing a gray shirt and denims and uh, I was just staring at him until he was whoa, on my face.

He lived in the North, I, in the South and we never celebrated even a single anniversary because we would always forget. Like all the time. On our 22nd month we decided to call it quits. He. Actually. But one weird thing about your father is that he never stopped being there. Although he became a jerk one in a while. But he never left.

It was like an unofficial affair we had and your dad got me confused for a couple of years more. And we never became official again—rhetorically, at least.

But here you are. And I am so happy that you are here because I have always wanted a “you”.  I am ecstatic that your dad is your dad and he is the love of my life.

I know that he has craziness in him and you might just actually be his exact replica and I don’t know if I can handle two of him… but I am excited!

But you can be whatever ypu. Want to be. I will never push you into something you don’t want to except if you don’t want to brush your hair or take a bath, well, that’s a different story but you are me and your dad so I am sure you are a bundle of everything that is wonderful in our world.

Just be who you are. Sing. Dance. Play the piano. Jump off a cliff. Fly. Do it! Do whatever will breathe life into your systems but most importantly be our baby.

Love your dad for aside from me, yes he is head over heels for me, you are his next most favorite person. Well, actually you share the same rank as Zean. But he is also a very cute boy, I am sure you’d love him as your kuya because he already is and I care about him too.

I love you baby.

I am happy you are about to come. Because I was broken and I only wished for us to end up together but here we are. Again. Together. With you.

Do not pressure yourself to fit in other’s standards because the only standard an you have to exceed is the standards you set for yourself.

You can make it in life because you have my genes. And your dad’s. So, life you are as smart as you are good looking and talented. Haha. Kidding aside, with persistence and a good intention, you can accomplish anything.

Don’t be disheartened at any point. You can make it life isn’t always fair and beautiful but it is normal. Don’t strive to be the beat but aspire to always be better.

Be that kid in this world full of fake grown ups

All grown-ups were once children…but only few of them remember it. – The Little Prince

As I was taking a ride to work early morning of a Thursday, I sat just beside the window by the right—the seat I always find myself comfortable in—the same place I get to see places pass by me and life unfolds into a new day as the sun peeps just a little bit from behind the clouds.

Then Christmas songs started playing. The Tagalog ones from my childhood and with the chilling cold coming from the thermostat, I gripped my hoodie closer to me and closed my eyes to an attempt for a nap but no—I was taken back to my eight-year-old self when I would run with my cousins and build temples out of blankets and when we would become ecstatic for Christmas: the music, the lights, the temperature, the food, and the people.

Childhood was awesome. It was the time when all I would be bothered about was an assignment or an exam and my favorite time of the day was the afternoon after school for it was my playtime with my friends.

Then I was plunged back to the thoughts of today. Kids wearing make up. Kids dressing like adults. Kids preferring to read romantic stories instead of the classics. Children falling in love at 11 or 12 and eventually becoming parents at 16.

Today is the time when children play together virtually, talk over video calls, and their self worth becomes determined by the number of likes their photos get or their intelligence measured by the number of who’s and what’s and when’s that they can recall. When happiness meant getting the highest score in a video game and art and play meant doodles of imagined colors on a tablet rather than actual ones and music played technically rather than physically.

Childhood is the greatest time in a person’s life as it is the time of innocence and no prejudice. The time when we all believed in the goodness of each other and looked at the world as a perfect home.

Childhood goes by so fast that suddenly, you are transcended to whole different universe that is adulthood—that means more responsibility, love with reservations, life that is worked hard for, goodness that is doubted, and happiness that cannot exactly be defined.

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I loathed at the thought that children no longer find joy in the feel of the rain against their skin, the patter of mud as they run through it, the excitement of whether the house made of cardboard box would hold itself together, when playing meant skinning knees for playing tag, and intelligence was appreciated and determined through the different skills one possesses.

If you are a kid reading this, be that child who squats to the sun’s rays that get through the crack on the wall, if only to check if there are fairies passing along; that who tries to catch the breeze and wonder why it’s only felt not touched; that who builds fortresses out of couch pillows and pretend to be escaping from dragons around the house. That kid who actually touches crayons not because the teacher tells you to. That kid who sings emotionally even without being scored.

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Be that kid in this world full of hinog sa pilit children.

Childhood is wonderful and eventually, it will be over.

And just like me, there would be a time when all you could do is reminisce the fun and crazy embarrassment you had due to your curiosity and laugh about it.

And I do hope that one day, when you find yourself on your way to work, you will remember a time when you really were outdoors playing with other kids and seeing things and not experiencing what life has to offer through the lenses of your latest gadget.

Being a child is a gift. Embrace it.