Critical Choices

How do you make the choice that you know will change your life forever? How do you make up your mind on what road to take or what direction your life should mold around? These questions have been plaguing my mind since yesterday morning and with every ounce of honesty in me, I have to admit that I really don’t know what to do. I’ve always been so sure of everything—maybe even too sure. And now, I just don’t know. I really don’t. Do I stick to where I started or do I go after my passion?

If I choose to remain on the path that I trod on five years ago, given the opportunity presented to me, I’d be able to gain leverage on this profession and I’ll have better chances of actually making a career out of it. But still, the chances are slim. With an oversaturated economy of nurses, it would still be incredibly hard to even get a job. And by “Job”, I mean actually getting paid for the service you render. On top of that, if I do intend to work abroad sometime in the future, I should be aware of the fact that this degree I’m working on would not be honored outside the country. So I have to ask myself if this would all be worth it in the end.

If I choose to deviate from my original course and shift to an entirely different perspective, I’d have to take in all the risk that the new profession would entail. Upside is it’s been my passion for as long as I can remember. Downside, making a career out of it is hard all the same. Not because there are a lot of journalists but because of the odds that the job itself possesses. Also, if I do leave the country, would I leave as a writer or would I leave as a nurse? So again, I have to ask myself if it would all be worth it in the end. 

How do you choose? Without seeing the future, how do you make the choice today that you won’t regret tomorrow? How do I decide on where my life should go? I hate having to choose. Now I’m not so sure if actually having options is a good thing. Do I close a chapter of my life and start another or do I keep this chapter open and make it strong? Ugh… This is driving me insane. I feel like my brain cells are evaporating on the spot. 

Do I become a jack of both trades or a master of one? Choose. Choose. Choose. 

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Photo (1) by ~HarajukuLoversMusic
Photo (2) by `Infinite705

Pain. Luck. Love.

I woke up today with a sudden yearning to write. Problem is, I don’t know what to write about yet. So I scanned my head for any possible subject and came up with three words: Pain, Luck and Love. And I have a few lines from my favorite character Hercule Poirot and another character named Norton (if you don’t know them, it’s alright) to help me construct this for you.

“The wound is still fresh. But do not dwell on it, do not look back. Instead look forward.”

This is a line that literally translates what I feel right now. The wound is open and it hasn’t healed yet. I smile to compensate for the pain and the loss I felt. But I guess it’s only natural to feel pain because if you don’t, then you’re probably not human and most likely not alive. Life is so often designed to have suffering, hardship, loss, burden and all the bad things you can think of. Some say it’s there to make us strong. Some say it’s there to help us survive. I say it’s there to simply keep us alive. Happiness will be dull without sadness. Smiles wouldn’t matter without tears. Life would be meaningless without death. With only good things at hand, what will be there to balance? Nothing. There is always—always two sides to a coin but the coin itself does not represent life, flipping it does. Without bad things, will any of us constantly struggle to be better? No. And with that, life will stop. So mon cheri, be happy that you are presented with everyday opportunities and challenges. Because for as long as the world is still surprising you with both good and bad things, you know that your life is worth it.

“No, no, sir. Not luck. Not in our stars, dear Brutus—but in ourselves.”

Luck has always been something that we tend to believe in. It’s like an outside force that you pray to or send requests to for a good day or a hint of good fortune. It’s a nickname for fate and destiny. It is, as everybody says, something that you can count on when mortal preparations come short. Luck is the magic behind four-leaf clovers, wishbones, coins thrown in a wishing well, crossing your fingers and the sudden boost you feel when somebody tells you good luck with a smile. I don’t know why but people always seem to have this constant need for something greater than them to count on and well, throw the blames to when times call for it. If they succeed at something they thought they would fail at, they’ll say “I had such good luck today”. And when they fail at something they thought they would succeed at, they’ll say “It’s just bad luck”. It really fascinates me as to how people can have so much faith in something intangible and immaterial. But I guess it’s something that has to exist for us to cope with life and to somehow, subconsciously accept that there are things beyond our control.

“—the independent, highbrow kind. The kind of girl who when she does lose her heart, loses it with a desperation and an abandonment that the silly little fluffy type can never know.”

I never accepted the notion that I have any sort of intelligent streak in me. But I also couldn’t deny the fact that the line above hit me in the heart spot on. Girls, as we all know, get crazier when they are in love. But smart girls take it a step further when they do fall. And I guess the next step would be somewhere in between intense dedication and insanity. It’s harder for intelligent girls to sort out their feelings. Other girls would cry and move on then fall again and cry and move on and the utterly normal cycle of love goes on. But to girls who have known facts and rationales and logic their whole lives, love becomes a trigger. A trigger that could turn them into the great women they’re supposed to be or a trigger that kills all the greatness in them through heartbreak. When they come to love someone more than they ever loved knowledge and studying and academics, they lose their selves completely. They give everything, become everything for the one they love. Lucky for the guy. Too bad for the girl if it doesn’t work out. As you know, smart girls are fools at heart. And the thing is, they only fall once. But hopefully, that one time is more than enough to keep a smile on their face for an entire lifetime.

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Photos attached are shots of my hand.

Enfin

It was sometime ago when my Mom and I were at the mall and we saw a sale, not a clothes sale but a book sale. Since both of us are bookworms, we scoured through the stacks of books hoping for a good find. After a few minutes she handed a book to me saying, “Hey, you like reading detective, mystery novels right? This is a really good author and a fairly famous one, might I add.” I looked at the book and read “Agatha Christie” right off the cover then I said “How come I’ve never heard of her?” And my Mom said “Well duh, she died in the 1970s. Way before you were born.” So I just said “Okay” and held on to the book since it only costed P35 which was really cheap given its original price of around P280. After we’ve gone through all the books, my Mom found another book of the same author and gave it to me. She said “Here’s another one. She’s like Carolyn Keene, you know. She wrote tons of books. But of course, her stories are way deeper and much more complex than Keene’s. Knowing you, you’ll probably be hooked like crazy after reading the first book.” That statement by my Mom really got me interested but did not surprise me.

Agatha Christie had three series with three different characters: Hercule Poirot, Miss Jane Marple and Tommy and Tuppence Beresford. The two books I got were under the Hercule Poirot series. I started on my first book and thought to myself that I’m really lucky because it’s the first Hercule Poirot novel, at least I got to start at the beginning.

Then it took me a long while to get started on the second one since things have been crazy. But now that I found the time and I’ve actually reached the end of the second book, a peculiar feeling swept over me. The second book I read was the last book in the Hercule Poirot series. Crazy coincidence. Why did I say so? Well… It’s crazy that the plot should be in the same place as the first. It’s crazy that the narrator of the first was the narrator of the last. It’s crazy that I got to pick up both the beginning and the end of a 38-long series on a random book sale. It feels like I fast-forwarded on the events. It feels like I suddenly got a hold of the alpha on my left hand and the omega on the right. It feels wrong…in all ways possible. And now I realized that no person should ever have to get to the end without getting through the rough parts, the ugly details, the mistakes, the dilemmas, the dramas and all the negative things a story should entail. You must bear them, live them, get through them and survive them in order for you to appreciate the conclusion that the end brings.

À la fin comme au commencement.

If something feels off, go back to the beginning. Because the end will only make sense if you know how it all began. If you know what set things in motion, then you’ll know why things turned out the way they are. If you know how people were in the beginning, you’ll know how life changed them in the end. If you know what people missed at the start, then you’ll know the reason behind their regrets in the end.

The end will give you answers. It always does. But those answers will only make sense if you know what questions were asked in the beginning. Value how you start just as much as you’ll value how you end. Because life isn’t made up of random events with no sequence, it maybe a circle and a cycle, but it always has a beginning and an end. And you’ll only know the value of the entire journey if you have lived every second of it.

Enfin. Enfin. Enfin.

Caféplus

I’m seriously thinking of creating another blog solely dedicated for short food reviews but I haven’t fully convinced myself of that so let me post everything here in the meantime.

My boyfriend and I grabbed a quick bite at the newly opened Café+ along Maharlika Highway in Plaridel, Bulacan. And now I’m here to write a short feedback.

For ambiance, two thumbs up for me. It’s very cozy and it just exudes that homey, comfy feeling that would put your senses at ease. The design of the Café itself is very appealing to me. I’m no architect but the fact that it’s 50% bricks and 50% glass tells me that it’s a good marriage of tradition and modernization. It may seem small to some people but since it’s a Café and not a restaurant, I think the size of the space attest to the nature of the business. For those who have automobiles, no worries because they have a spacious parking area. And just to describe the surroundings briefly, behind the Café is a multi-purpose hall that can be rented for any occasion and adjacent to it is an antique shop, so to anyone who’s attracted to both coffee and old, valuable things, this is definitely a good combo.

Let’s go to the menu and on it are pretty much everything you can expect to find in a coffee shop. On the hot list of drinks are several lattes starting from jasmine, earl grey, matcha to americano and cappuccino. On the cold list are lattes still which you can have in two ways, either over ice or ice blended and they also have several yogurt smoothies. My boyfriend and I ordered the Iced Dark Chocolate Mocha and Iced Milo Mocha Dinosaur which are both pretty good. Presentation-wise, the container of their drinks are pretty intriguing. It’s not the typical cups or mugs. They’re actually closer to being jars more than anything else which may seem weird to some but completely checks personality and uniqueness on my list of adjectives. For food, they have sandwiches, cakes, waffles and other baked goodies which will surely tickle your taste buds in the best way possible.

About their service, I can say that they cater to their customers really well. They greet their customers warmly, which is what you should expect anywhere you go but is not exactly something that you always get as a customer. They make polite suggestions of their best sellers and they’re pretty attentive to the things you need. They’re pleasant, accommodating and thoughtful. And all of those traits compliment the already comfy aura of the place.

If ever you’re craving for coffee on lazy afternoons or just want to have a good place to meet your loved ones and friends for a quick catch up over cups of coffee and plates of good food, stop by at Café+ and you’ll definitely get what you’re looking for.

Here’s the link to their facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/CAFEplusCBD

Happy eating. =)

Hey Miley

Let me clear something first, I am not a fan of Miley Cyrus in any way possible. I have not been nor will I ever be one of her fans. And even I was disgusted at what she did during the VMA Music Awards. It’s just a big canvas of all things gone wrong. But when I came  across this photo, somehow the air cleared and I was able to grasp a little sense out of her insanity.

You see, I hate people who judge others just because they haven’t gone through the same thing. Unfortunately, I was one of them and everything just changed when I saw the photo above. Love is power. And power can always go both ways.

Heartbreak and pain can force you to do things that are considered crazy, insane, over-the-top, and ridiculous just as much as falling in love can. When you’re in love, you don’t sleep out of worry, you travel for miles on end, you sacrifice what you could, you give up things, you change your priorities, you rearrange your entire life for that special someone. So how come when it’s love, going crazy is normal but when it’s heartbreak and pain, you’re considered insane?

Miley Cyrus is a public figure, that’s why everybody sees what she does and critiques her. But what about those people who took their lives because of love? Those who ODed in their bathrooms, who slit their wrists, who hanged themselves on the ceiling, who put a gun in their mouths and pulled the trigger? Isn’t that a lot worse than cutting your hair short, dancing like a maniac on stage, being naked in a music video or licking a sledge hammer? Not everybody takes pain lightly. Not everybody can keep their composure when the one they love walks out the door. Crying endless nights isn’t enough for everybody to get over their emotions. We’re individuals. Just as our love stories are never the same so will our reactions to heartache vary widely. Our emotional outlets are aimed at a thousand different directions that it’s almost impossible to predict how we’ll come to terms with the pain. Plus, we’re human beings. We’re not Gods. We have limits and we will break at one point or another. So tell me, when that time comes, will you be as crazy as Miley or will you be a lot worse?

“Even though Miley was going through some major changes and causing a worldwide uproar with her VMA performance, at least she remained faithful!”—I read this from a Hollywood article. Cheating on a woman who gave you everything is just plain wrong. It just is. I don’t care what excuses any men alive will give me. “We’re just friends, you misunderstood”, “It was just one time”, “There’s nothing going on” or others. Put it this way, if there’s a text message, a conversation, a chat of some sort, a post of some kind that you will not willingly let your girlfriend see, stop and ask yourself—Why can’t I let her see this? Is it because I’m talking to this woman in a way that I shouldn’t? Is it because I’m treating this woman in a way that goes beyond being friends? And please, don’t let yourself think that it’s okay or that you can lie anyways. It’ll just make the pain a lot harder to accept. If you can bear to see your girlfriend cry because of your own actions, then you’re not a real man.

This is what a woman who’s well-loved looks like.

And this is what a woman who’s cheated on and broken looks like.

Big difference? Of course. Remember that the woman is a reflection of her man. If you treat her well and love her faithfully, it’ll show. She’ll be beautiful in all ways possible.

A prayer, A poem

A year ago today, someone very precious have left this life and transcended to another. And now, more than ever, her family misses her.

I don’t even know if I have the right to call her Nay or Nanay but I do know that I’ve known her for a time far shorter than I should have. A year ago, I wrote a poem. Today I wrote another. And I’m doing this because it’s the only way that I could show her how thankful I am for having the chance to meet her.

I know you’re watching over everybody. I just hope that wherever you may be, you’re happy.

Why
09/17/2012

God, why have you opened heaven’s doors?
Now our hearts are wounded as you take back what has always been yours.
Life is such a fragile state,
And such a short time didn’t make it any easier to accept this fate.

God, why have you sent your angels here?
You’re taking someone so far when she was once so near.
Love can only mean so much…
To someone who will always be within our hearts’ touch.

God, why have you given her your wings?
You had us saying goodbye as she flies, smiles and sings.
Our tears our falling… Our souls are mourning…
Your will have left us longing…

God, why have you shown her the light?
When we’re here…trying to save her with all our might.
You had us fighting for so long…
Was this intended to make us strong?

God…why now?
You want us to live through this without knowing how.
Please give us the strength to understand, to accept, to let go…
We know that to her, this much is what we owe.

Reminiscence
09/17/2013

Exactly a year ago, I wrote about an amazing woman.
She walked ever so calmly as fate ran.
She was loved by many, if not everybody.
Now she’s free; more than anyone can ever be.

Exactly a year ago, I wrote about a loving mother.
She loved her children dearly; even at the life after.
She broke down walls for possibilities.
Now she’s unchained from all obscurities.

Exactly a year ago, I wrote about a gentle soul.
She always worked for a dream, an aspiration, a goal.
She was not like anyone you can ever know.
Now she’s beyond our reach and we have yet to let go.

Exactly a year ago, I wrote about a kindled spirit.
She’s brave and armed with admirable wit.
She’s always been a vision of sweet affection.
Now she’s just too far…far from our notion.

Exactly a year ago, I wrote about a dedicated heart.
She basked in life’s beauty and art.
She became a pillar of passion, of strength, of fortitude.
Now she may be in heaven, but her love will forever exude.

Weddings

I’ve been thinking about this ever since my mom talked to me about it (which was yesterday by the way). Women, well…generally they don’t have a problem getting married. They long for commitment and just basically dream about it. They think of what their wedding dress will you like. They think of the perfect venue, will it be in a church, in a beach, in a garden, etc. They think of the important people they will be inviting. They think about the theme. They think about the invitations, the entourage, the souvenirs and all that stuff. They even think of where the honeymoon will be. They think about everything and practically just dream about every possible detail of their wedding. Bride-to-bes are somewhat crazy but all because they want everything to be perfect. Their wedding is that one day where they get to be the most beautiful woman in the room…that one day where they strive to look their best for the man they chose to be with for the rest of their lives.

Men, on the other hand, are the complete opposite. It’s probably because they see weddings as the end of their freedom and the start of a life being forever chained to one woman. I guess lifelong commitment is really scary to them. But then again, only those who are able to look beyond the perks of being a bachelor are given the gift of having that one person you can come home to everyday, take care of you, listen to how your day went even if it’s composed of the same events, stick with you no matter what a mess you can be and just love you unconditionally even if you already lost the charm of youth and you got nothing but wrinkles, poor eyesight and white hair. Only a man willing to give himself fully, no reserves, to one woman until he takes his last breath will be deserving to stand at the end of the aisle receiving a gift only a few men get…the vision of their beautiful future, wrapped around in a white dress, smiling right at them. 

Me? Don’t ask me… I’m a woman and yes, I would love to get married. I’ve thought about it a million times…but I always talk myself out of that dream. I force myself to not get all whimsical about it until it actually happens. I always pull my head out of the clouds and slap myself back to reality. I’m not in some fairy tale, I live an actual life and this life is not a bed of roses. How can I even think about it happening when other people can steal his attention away from me so quickly. It’s gonna happen but it’s not now. It’s not until he’s sure about me. It’s not until he’s convinced that I’m the one. It’s not until he’s ready. It’s not until I hear “Will you marry me?” straight from his lips.

And until that time comes, I would just have to wait…

Keep the Fire Burning

So I haven’t wrote anything in a while. The past week has been pretty crazy for me and I felt like suddenly, time became a lot shorter when I used to just spend long afternoons reading mystery books or writing my thoughts away.

Yesterday, I took an exam, well…a series of exams to be exact. It’s for a job I’ve been aiming for in a long while. The first part was an essay type of test. After everybody submitted their papers, the proctor called out my name. She said, “Wait, let me just look at the application form you filled out”. And I’m like “Oh, okay”. After reading through my application form she said, “You’re a writer?” and I replied “Yes, but not by profession”. “Well, it shows. You’re the first person who ever had the time to correct the grammatical errors of the questions first before answering them.” Of course, everybody turned to look at me and I just wanted to evaporate. My personal reason for doing that is whenever I read a question that’s incorrectly phrased, my subconscious mind is telling me that my answer will be incorrect as well. So yeah, I’ve let my habit get the better of me. 

There’s this other thing as well. Still it happened after an exam. But the exam was the finals for a subject of mine in Post Grad and still, it’s an essay type. When I was done, I submitted my paper right away. I was completely unaware of how fast I answered the exam until everybody looked at me and my professor said “You really are a writer. You’re the only one who didn’t use an extra sheet of paper for a quick draft of your answers or for an outline even”. At that moment, I just wanted to disappear.

Writing comes very natural to me that oftentimes, I forget how hard it is for others to collect their thoughts and present them in a good way. I forget how long it takes for a person who’s not into writing to come up with the proper way of saying things and at the same time keep the rules of grammar on top of their head. I forgot because I’ve been writing for as long as I can remember and it became a way of life for me.

I’m so into writing that my parents are often surprised of how good I am in this field, given the fact that they didn’t allow me to take any journalism degree. Somehow, after college, I was able to earn their respect in the field of literature. Probably it’s because whenever I write, it catches them off guard. And to think that even two of my oldest friends had no idea I can write. Well…until I made a poem about how they fell in love. I posted it here actually, it’s entitled “Heart of  Stone”.

“Never stop writing”, that’s what my dad said last night. Well, I don’t intend to and it’s not like I can stop something that’s already a part of me. You know what they say, “Old habits die hard” and personally, I think you can never kill your own talent. Why? Because it’s a force that will always find a way to shine through. 

So to all my fellow writers out there, hats off to us! We may be a dying breed, but we keep the fire of literature burning and that’s all that matters.  

Ningnangan

Have you heard of Ningnangan? Probably if you’re in Bulacan or Pampanga then yes. The branch in Bulacan is actually located in Pulilan along the Maharlika Highway. And that’s where my family and I dug in some good food last night.

Let’s start with the ambiance, shall we? It’s undeniably a fairly large place. Tables are scattered well enough on the grounds and yet, they still have a large enough parking area to accommodate all their customers. Also, you’ll immediately get an authentic Filipino vibe when you get there. Why? Because the tables are housed in nipa roofs that stand on 4 posts and everything is pretty much made out of wood—the tables, chairs, furnishings and all. The open sides were done for the purpose of ventilation because the place does not have any air conditioning units, just wall fans to probably cool up really warm nights. But then again, I doubt if you will be needing to turn it on when most nights are already fairly nippy. 

For services, well it’s technically a self-service type of place which in my opinion, is a good thing. I like it when I have to stretch a muscle or two before digging in to good food. They have designated places where you can get the things you need. Plates and utensils are in a corner, there are places for drinks and ice cubes, one for condiments and the list goes on. They also have free wi-fi and mounted at the uppermost parts of the nipa huts are flat screens which most often than not, displays basketball games. After all, Filipinos love basketball. Also, they have this open area at the rear part of the restaurant where more tables are set up. But since these tables are not housed in nipa huts, there won’t be a place to mount the flat screens to and so as not to deprive their customers who will be sitting there, they have set up a big white screen to which the games shown will be projected to. And with that, everybody’s happy.

For the food, their house specialty is anything that can be cooked in a grill. Your choices start with various cuts and parts of pork and chicken then you can move on to something a bit more different like gizzards and liver and finish off with good, old sea foods like bangus (milk fish), tilapia, hito, shrimps, crabs and squids. All food is raw so once you’ve made your choice, that’s the only time that it hits the grill. They also serve other options like sisig, lechon kawali, tempura, bulalo and others. For appetizers, they have onion rings, buttered corn and the like. Also fresh greens, like ensaladang mangga with tomatoes, onions and shrimp paste and also paco/pako salad which is served with a really good dressing. And lastly for dessert, they have old time favorites like leche flan, ube halaya and maja blanca. 

So if ever you find yourselves in Bulacan or Pampanga, why not drive in to Ningnangan for a refreshing, Filipino culture imbued, dining experience. I know I had a good time and I hope that you will too.