And The Cookie Has Crumbled

It’s that time of the year – nope, not to make resolutions because hahaha, yeah right – to switch blogs.

Nothing particularly deep or mind-blowing prompted the change, I just really felt like it. This blog will remain open, of course, just in case I feel the need to go back. The new blog is up but it’s basically the same old thing. I don’t even know if it’s going to be updated regularly, fickle beastie that I am, but there you go.

Hohohoho, hail the new. Head on over, if you want:

No pressure. I’m used to talking by and to myself :)


And, Catharsis. If Only For A Little While

This was supposed to be my year-end post. Or my 2014 year-starter post. Whatever worked best. But the events of 2013 did a lot of damage to my sense of equilibrium and self-worth, that it took me quite a while to regain my balance. I still am, come to think of. Still trying to sort things out, calm down, look at the bigger picture, grow a spine, etc.

2013 was a year of gains and losses, a year where the principle of equivalent exchange was in full swing. Full Metal Alchemist, anyone? :)

In order to obtain or create something, something of equal value must be lost or destroyed

I felt that the Universe loved and hated me in equal measure, and for something it gave, it took away. Carrot and stick, carrot and stick. Meh, I am not used to being this bitter, cynical or disillusioned. I’m growing old – old, in every sense of the word.

In the span of one year, I lost my grandfather, said goodbye to my job of three years, started all over again with a new job with the City Government as a bona-fide regular employee (with all perks and benefits), and experienced a month-long armed conflict which took 20 years off my life.

I also lost weight, dropping down from 60 to 50 kilograms. On the other hand, I had the Worst Pimple Breakout Ever, and to date, I am still dealing with dark marks which make me look like Krillin of Dragon Ball fame, and the straggler zits that insist on making an appearance if only to piss me off.

Lose some, gain some. Carrot and stick.

I’m really starting to understand why people make penitensiya. By denying ourselves happiness either through sacrifice or pain, perhaps the scales of life will tip over in our favor. That somewhere out there, someone will not deny you your happiness because you have already given up so much already.

To all that was and could have been. Thanks 2013, and hallo tharr, 2014.


My hometown is under attack. On what was going to be the best week of my life – because, hello, I was turning 27 – hostile elements swarmed in my City and basically, fucked everything.

It’s been a surreal week – I can’t believe it’s already been a week of curfews and gunfire. Dealing with violence that hits so close to home and at so grand a scale drains you, physically and emotionally. I am still functioning, but not really. I go to work but I do my responsibilities on a table that is not mine because it’s too dangerous to go to City Hall. Instead of being independent, I now need someone to take me home each and every night because we have a curfew.

I still watch television, but I tune in mostly to news. I no longer watch comedies because at this time and in this context, it seems obscene to laugh and be merry. I eat, but I can no longer savor food. How could I, when I know that somebody else deserves this roasted chicken more than me? Fuck you for not caring. Fuck me for not caring.

I am still processing everything that has happened. I will probably write something about this experience because I will need the therapy and the catharsis of bleeding out words. But that’s for another time. Right now, I need to do something else, something that does not involve thinking.

And feeling.

Or both.

Tomorrow is another day. But maybe it’s going to be THE day. Fingers are crossed.

Imagine All The People That I Talk To In My Head

There was this scene in a TBBT episode that had me nodding in agreement – that show can be creepily accurate about me sometimes.

Sheldon Cooper: I wish you could all be inside my head. The conversation is sparkling.

Testify, my good man. Testify.

How I can be such a scintillating conversationalist in my head (if I say so myself) and be woefully inarticulate in real life is a constant source of frustration for me.

Continue reading


It has been a while since I last posted and I offer the usual reasons for the absence – work, life, and as always, the doldrums.

March has been a month of major upheavals, and I have been using the past months to adjust to the changes, and to find my feet again. I wish I kept a diary or journal of some sorts, though, because I had some pretty awesome ideas then. But, eh, they are all gone now.

So, on a whimsy, I decided to change my template, and post this lame-ass entry. Maybe I’ll start over and begin writing again. Or maybe not.

Meh is the word.