​I am one that’s quite funny, 
if you ask me; 
I scream of so much irony – 
did you see?

Give me space and a degree – 
a virtue I will embody;
compress me and you’ll see
how nasty just I can be.

See, when you talk as if you are me: 
You open yourself to vulnerability, 
and challenge everyone, “Who will be, 
what will be, the downfall of my morality?”

See, when you walk as if you are me: 
People will think you’re just as funny, 
When you start feeling angsty
That you forget the ‘marks and niceties.

Did you see?
I scream of so much irony – 
if you ask me, 
I am one that’s quite funny.

Just so.

I am just so tired.

Physically, emotionally and mentally drained. Like.. if you are going to poke a hole on my skin right now, I doubt there’d be blood that would flow out. If any, you’ll see the last shreds of my soul evaporate into thin air.

I need a 72-hour sleep. Halp.

Cover Your Ass

During my first few months at my current job, I often hear people saying “CYA” about almost everything – which basically means “Cover your ass” (pardon the language – no, actually, pardon my personality lol). And tbqh, that’s a shitty piece of advice.. 

.. well, at first.

I used to think that in order for a team to be successful in what they do, they have to be motivated – which is easily achievable if there is a good mixture of cooperation, bond and respect between the people involved. But, like, really? CYA? Did they really believe that encouraging people to, in a way, pass on the blame will inspire teamwork? Can CYA turn failure into success, in worst case scenarios? A quick answer would be a resounding “no”, especially if you’re new to the concept.

Being the human mess that is me, the CYA approach somewhat goes against my ideals. I have always valued good bond between people over things that can be quantified (eg. money, ratings, etc). For me, it is more important to have the same goals and be in harmony with other people than always watching for my back because someone might just stab me.

But then, as I spent more time working on projects with new and old colleagues alike, I have learned that thr CYA rule is not really that bad.

For starters, it encourages communication between the people involved. It basically means you need to make sure that you are on the same page as the others, and that you understand what is expected of you. It encourages people to raise concerns to the people who can handle them and to be mindful of the goals of the project because it’s what everyone aims for.

Aside from that, it also encourages people to take responsibility of their own work. It’s like making sure that you are wiping your own ass. It requires people to step up and own up their roles and deliverables, and to ensure that loopholes are all patched up.

Ultimately, once a team goal has been set, everyone is expected to contribute their hundred percent – and strangely, the CYA approach ensures such is the case.

Other than that, I realised that whether or not the CYA rule is right on the money really depends on how you view your work and how much relationship and trust you have for your team mates in the first place. The CYA approach, strangely, tells every member to watch their own backs, but at the same time, to watch out for the others in the event that they miss something.

And you know what, I want to be on the brighter side of the coin, so I’ll stick to the latter point of view.

Happy almost-Friday! (In the timezone that I am in, at least.)

Look around, Look around

Prior to writing this post, I was doing a bit of stalking over.. myself. Yes, call it a former-brand-reputation-manager thing (that has not faded even though I’m through that shit for four years already, apparently) – but really, it’s just something I got used to doing whenever I am bored (which makes up 60% of my existence).

And you know what? I find it.. funny. I have this old blog that basically sums up my entire existential crisis phase, circa 2012-13, and tbh*, reading it is like reading another person’s blog. It was sooooo interesting (but I am probably just biased haha) and soooo different. Like, really, if you want proof that I was once an emo who blogs about walking down the boulevard of broken dreams that has once been my life, just head over here. But if I ever find out you laughed while reading through it, I’ll skin you alive. 😈

Tbrh**, I felt a bit of nostalgia because it reminded me how far I have come in life and how old I am now. Here’s a bit of comparison of my then-character on my old blog versus the me that is writing this post (who may or may not be just pretending to be different from the 2012-me, you’ll never know though lol):

It wasn’t me (Shaggy voice) cuz:

  • I no longer talk about dying, at least out loud
  • Because really, now that I am already older, death is something that makes me feel scared;
  • I feel like the world loves me now, even though I am undeniably a shitty waste of mass;
  • I rarely talk to myself now – or I just no longer have the luxury of time to update my blog;

Still the one:

  • No legit accomplishments based on my past goals just yet
  • I am still a shitty waste of space, always have been and will be
  • I am still fond of using parenthesis
  • I still love coffee

But just like what Hamilton said, “There’s a million things I haven’t done – but just you wait..”

*to be honest

**to be really honest (I know, I know, my generation scmucks – you’re still not cool though lol 😛 jk)


I was surfing the interwebs a couple of minutes back, as I was preparing for my evening bath. And while I was doing so, I had this weird realisation (like I always do).

I have talked about this on my Twitter account, but seriously, I feel like I am not living my life. Hold on, do not think I am just stressed out or something. I mean, my work life is going well, family’s all good, social life is active, and I have a couple of me-times when I want it. But I feel like there’s something wrong.. like I should be saving the world right now, but all I am actually doing is blogging about it – just thinking about it.

I feel like I need to do something, that requires disconnecting from everyone and finding something to do that will really impact the majority of this planet’s inhabitants in a good way. Something that does not involve putting the correct Instagram filter or witty hashtag or compelling recollections.

I feel like quitting my job to go places I have never been on. To actually be with other people. To connect in real life, not through late-night screen tapping convos. 

But then I hear about all these bombings and massive killings and frame-ups and they.. scare me.
That is probably why I am having all these weird thoughts that I am useless and no-good. ‘Cause I wanna do something, but I can not do it because there are lots of complications – several aspects of my life that may get negatively affected if I choose to just cut the rope and go for the free fall. Like I am choosing between life and emptiness, and that I can no longer turn back once I’ve put my cards down.

Sigh. Happy Sunday evening.

A Mirror.

There’s this girl I see every morning
Her eyes are red and all puffy
She looks at me blankly, stares at her hands on her lap and sighs heavily
But when she looks back up–
She smiles.
And that confuses me.

There’s this girl I occasionally see
Every afternoon wearing a cute oversized tee
Her eyes are no longer puffy
She sits with a lot of people and they all laugh loudly
She speaks fast and makes those jokes that are cheesy
And one time, I heard one of them people
“Man, that girl is cool-
she makes this whole place happy.”
And they all thought she’s sunny.
And hearing that made me feel funny.

‘Cause this girl that I see every morning?
She spends her night staring at the sky and sobbing silently
She puts up sad records that make even me lonely
And when she sees me looking, she smiles sadly
“I’m okay, please don’t worry”.

And I want to hug her and make her cry to me.
But instead I also smile sadly.
’cause that’s just the kind of glass I was meant to be.

(Written by yours truly. Reposted from my previous blog.)


one of the artworks found at the Pinto Art Museum

What if that day comes
When you’re broken
and someone comes to fix you up
Sews the pieces back together
Tells you that the stitches
Make you more beautiful
and you believe
Because you saw the many little hearts
That he made
To cover the cracks.
And it’s beautiful
Like the color of your hair
When the first rays of sun shine on it.

What if that day comes
When the thread starts to thin
And the little hearts that once covered the cracks
start to fall out
And he comes back with but a pair of scissors
To take out the remaining threads
Out of the cracks they used to hide
Because he doesn’t like the way your hair
Shines under the street lamps.

That it was your hair
He used as thread
To do the little hearts
That once covered your cracks.

What if that day comes
When he says to you
That he found the broken pieces so beautiful
And intriguing
That he decided to work on it
Like you’re a puzzle
But then he realized
That he doesn’t like
the whole picture
Of you
So he decides
To cut you
Into pieces
Much finer
Than when he first found you.

( This is a work in progress. Or not. Yea, maybe not. )

Mount Batulao. I’m Alive.

Over the weekend, I packed my things and put my cap on to brave one of the Philippines’ mountains — Mount Batulao in Batangas.


While I could tell you the deets such as where exactly it is located and how exactly to get there, I wouldn’t. Partly because this post isn’t meant to be the typical travel post, and partly because I’m too lazy to Google-verify the specifics. Also, I’m an am-I-lost kind of person, so whatever I say in regard to directions is most likely to put your life in danger. What made me say so? Before getting on the bus that will take us to the province, I had a “brainstorming” sesh with my two friends as to which seat would keep us away from the sun’s direction. Long story short, because they believed my rationale, we ended up sitting exactly where the sun was. I know, I deserved a standing ovation for that, but no biggie. (Haha)

Okay, so I’m not an outdoor-sy kind of person. If any, I despise anything that requires me to take a bath. It was a very long drive towards the province, so I basically spent 50% of my energy for the day just tossing and turning in my seat while silently cursing the damn traffic and heat.

However (of course, this part is required), my day turned around when we arrived at the jump-off. It was quite a long walk just heading towards the actual foot of the trail, and it was noon when we started (12nn), so aside from the sandy trail, we also faced the challenge of not sweating our lives away before reaching the summit.


The walk towards the goal is pretty challenging. The trail is kinda tricky because the actual path required us to walk on a line, else we would fall off the cliff on either side. We met some hikers along the way, and it was kinda warming to be greeted with “Magandang buhay, ingat po!” (“Have a good life/day, take care!”).

The only way you can know is give it all you have; And I hope that you don’t suffer, but take the pain.

It was through this hike that I came to know how much I can really depend on myself when it comes to death-defying situations. I managed to not ask for lots of help from our guide, I think, just about enough times especially those parts of the trail where we had to tiptoe because it’s steep and just a foot-wide.

Hope when the moment comes, you’ll say, “I, I did it all.”

I also realised how trusting I can be to people I don’t know. And it’s a good feeling, you know — that I-trust-you feeling. I felt like the world is kind, and for a moment, I forgot those times that made me have trust issues.

halo-halo at mount batulao rest-stop
Hope that you spend your days, but they all add up; And when that sun goes down, hope you raise your cup.

I felt like building a house on top of the mountains. It was so invigorating to be at the presence of nature. It was humbling to realise that I am but a speck of breathing life form in this planet.

peak-view before the summit
Hope that I can witness all your joy and all your pain; But until my moment comes, I’ll say, “I, I did it all.”

It felt good to be alive after almost tripping down the side of the trail. It felt good to be in the company of good friends.

sunset at mount batulao
I owned every second that this world could give, I saw so many places, the things that I did..

With every broken bone, I swear I lived. 🙂

Don’t You Fake It

Nine days from now, The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus’ debut album, “Don’t You Fake It,” will be celebrating its first decade of being loved by young once and young ones alike.

I got exposed to bands when I was in third year high school. Before then, my music player consists mostly of the top songs of the week, some Avril Lavigne hits (because my cousin is a huge fan of hers, and I used to consider him as the closest thing to a brother that I’d ever have so I was “forced” to watch numerous recorded concerts over merienda), and classic songs that my parents (and grandparents) love. It was the start of the school year, and before frying our brains on our Biochem class (which comes after Chem, sheesh), our teacher allowed us to watch Myx. That’s when I first watched Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance (bless them), and the rest is history. But then of course, I’m still gonna talk about it because I love blabbering so much.

The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus has performed here in Manila a couple of times already, but it was only until their DYFI tour that I had the chance to watch them live. And man, the crowd, I don’t even know how to describe it.

After work, my friends and I settled at the barricades separating the VIP-pass holders from the others. It was a good choice, I would say, because most of the “VIPs” are kiddos.

I don’t know every band member’s name (because I’m really not good with names, sorry), but I remember feeling so utterly young and excited because I feel so lucky being in the audience of such a legendary pop punk band.


Now, the crowd. Two guys totally caught my attention during the whole concert – not because they’re cute or whatever, but because I feel like they represented the fans of The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus at that moment.

There was a curly-haired dude who was at an all-time high energy during the almost two-hour performance. He was alone, or so it seems. But he set his things aside and headbanged, pumped his fists in the air so hard that even Saitama will tremble, and jumped all around the space he could move on. He really caught my attention because one song he’d be in front me, another he’d gone missing, then the next one he’s there again.

The second dude is the kind that you’d see on EDM fests. He was wearing a somewhat Coachella-inspired outfit (with a fedora on!). And he moved as if he’s listening to some funky music. He just swayed his body left to right, then occassionally put his hands in the air.

But here’s the thing: I know they love the band. I realized now that they may be about my age, and we may have been all on the same age when we first encountered these bands, and probably all on the same “young adult” transition phase. We all had the “qualifications,” if I’m even bold to say so. But at that moment, I felt like we represented different groups: the curly dude is that friend who doesn’t give a fuck about what people say about him, the fedora dude is that friend who’s always been curious that he ventured to other “genres” of life, and then there was me, the one who got eaten by the system (LOL).

But there we were. On the same concert. Back to listening to the same tunes. Back to being our rebellious selves.


It made me feel nostalgic to be there, no matter how corny that may sound to you.

I wasn’t a super fan of TRJA, but I had a major post-concert depression that I played their songs on loop for a week. And I actually bought a copy of their Et Tu Brute EP which I am planning to listen to on the 20th in memoriam of how much that concert reignited the youth in me.

I hope as you go by your days, you remind yourself how strong you are for surviving this far. And yes, “childhood” songs can make you feel that.

Remember if you seek then you shall find.

Chicken or Egg? Chicken AND Egg.

If there’s anything that I learned about life in my 22 years of existence so far, it’s that you have to find and follow what motivates you in order for Mondays to be bearable and life, in general, to be worth living.

I’m off sick today, but I’m ’bout to talk about worklife. Sheesh.

The thing is, I’m a millenial, because being born in 1993 is considered to be one. And also because I carry this “brand” of millenials at the workplace: apparently, we love switching jobs.

I couldn’t speak for the others, but I think I’m about one shade away from being a job-hopper. I am not exactly proud of that, but it isn’t something I am ashamed of either.

Just May of last year, I joined the company I am fortunately still in. What might (or may not) shock you is that the first four months prior to that, I have had two other companies on my resumé. Long story short, it was mid-Feb when I quit the job I’ve had for almost two years already, started on the next one where I was an in-house specialist (which, I thought at first was fun), then quit the latter come April. And in case you are wondering, yes, I didn’t take time off.

Others may have been reading now, and saying, “What the frck is she doing with her life?!” And I would honestly answer that I don’t know, by then.

But now, I kinda feel like I’ve unearthed one of the many missing puzzle pieces of my life. The thing is, I am motivated by the never-ending search for more learning. Salary does attract me, but nothing beats giving me opportunities to explore what interests me at a specific moment, and time for me to do so. I’m willing to be a trainee for a long time, so long as no one’s stepping on me (we all know the horrors of the corporate world, much more the evilness of some people in it). As much as learning inspires me though, I loathe people who make me feel like I will never be better at something. (Come on now, someone popped in your mind for a moment there.) And yes, there are certain people you can look up to as mentors even when you’re already in the corporate world. You’ll just have to be careful.

Anyway, so, because I know what motivates me, I know what to tell people, or my managers, in case they ask me what they can do to help me. On my 9th month at my current job, I was luckily promoted to a notch higher, and, aside from the reasonable increase in salary, the trust that my seniors are bestowing upon me makes me want to learn more. And teach more they are doing to me now. I am a happy adult kid, sans casual work blues, at the moment.

For now, I’ll leave you with what the character Gendry said on George R. R. Martin’s “A Song of Ice and Fire: Book Two, A Clash of Kings”, to help you ponder:

A sword’s a sword, a helm’s a helm, and if you reach in the fire you get burned, no matter who you’re serving.

What about you? What motivates you? I know this whole thing is like the chicken-or-egg puzzle – in which I am also not sure which comes first, finding your motivation or finding the motivation to look for your motivation, if that makes sense. What if it’s the same thing? What if the answers are the same? It would be like hitting two birds with one stone, right? (And yes, bad, cliché pun intended.)

I hope you find it out yourself early in life. It makes all the difference, I assure you. 🙂