The strong writes, the weak gets written.

The Treacherous (2015, film)

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On a diet

“I’m on a diet.” these are the words I never intended to ever use in my life. Not that I never needed to. In fact, I do need to go on a diet as soon as possible as my weight is bordering obese, but I was never that conscious of my body, or how people look at me, so there’s never the pressure to be fit. Of course I know the consequences for my health, but I’m so mentally strong against what others tell me that I know I’m the only one who can convince myself to change my lifestyle. Until now, however, I’ve never won over myself. Strange, right?

It’s been two days since I started this “diet”. To be honest, I think I have the whole idea of this diet backwards, since I’m only doing it to prove something to myself; to prove that I can control myself of my impulses if I really put my mind into it. I know I have it, but laziness, procrastination and an overdose of self-confidence steer me away from achieving things. So if I lose weight after three days, then that’s a bonus.

Anyway, I’m on my second day of this 3-day “military diet” thing. Actually, it’s not so bad. I was expecting hunger pangs and cravings for rice and dishes that I love so much like pasta, pizza and adobo will be overwhelming that I’d drop the challenge on the first day, but there’s none. Fortunately, I’m almost at the finish line and I feel I’m not close to any breakdowns yet. On the other hand, this diet is probably calculated to supply the body just enough energy and needed nutrients at its minimum. So I never feel that full, but I don’t get hungry that much, too.

I guess the side effect of this sudden diet is that I don’t have much energy since the food I’m having are not rich in carbohydrates.

The first day felt fine, and I guess I survived that day with determination. Most of my co-teachers were teasing me and I feel they do not believe I can finish this task (they know how much I love eating), so my determination to win the challenge was greater.

Yesterday, the second day, was a bit different. I still didn’t feel hungry between meals, and there was never the craving to grab a snack, but I definitely feel my energy deflation. Somehow, I also developed a slight cold, so my nose is a bit stuffed now, giving me a headache. I’m not sure if the diet has something to do with weakening my immune system, or I’ve just been ignoring the bed sheets too much at night, but one of my co-teachers said that it must be my body adjusting to the sudden change in diet.

Today, the third day, is also not that bad, but there is a slight light-headedness? Somehow, I’m not that alert and my memory is faltering more often than usual. The diet has also removed coffee from the second day, so that left me feeling sleepier and stranger in the morning than usual. I have to substitute the coffee with either light tea or water. I’m drinking more water than usual to combat the sudden onset of hunger. The problem is, I have to go to the restroom more often in the day.

Well, as of this writing, I’m finished with lunch of the third day of the diet, so I have dinner left which is only a cup of tuna, half a banana, and vanilla ice cream. Good lord!

Almost at the finish line and I’m already feeling very very giddy over my impending success. I’m already proud of myself for sticking to this challenge this far. I can actually experience and learn more if only I’ll give myself a more chances to challenge myself.

My family

If I were writing an elementary essay, I would talk about my family in the most simplest, idealistic way: My family is made of my daddy, mommy, older brother, and me. We go out every Sunday to go to church. We eat in Jollibee. My family is happy!

If I were to write about my family during my high school days, I would describe it as: My family is made of my mom, dad, older brother, younger brother, step mom and me. I live with my mom when I go to school. Every Friday, my daddy picks me up from our house in Makati to go to our house in Boni. I watch TV all the time in the house or play with my Barbie. On Sunday, we go to church then eat in a Chinese or pizza restaurant. This is the best part of the weekend. I enjoy time with my family like this, but I need to go home at night.

If I was describing my family situation during my latter college years, it would be like this: My family is composed of my father, my mother, my Tita, Kuya, younger brother, and me. My dad is in America, working. My Tita takes care of our shop in Boni. I occasionally visit her, my older brother who lives with them now, as well as my younger brother. I often fight with both my brothers, but they’re mostly simple sibling banter. I always have long talks with Tita. I guess she likes me most because I’m the only girl in the family, and I am a very good listener. She always have complains about the house, the business, my brothers, and of course, my dad, but she loves everyone, nonetheless. If I lived with them, she’ll probably complain about me too, but I don’t so I’m safe. It always amuses me how great Tita’s memory is because she remembers the exact dialogue in her stories. There are weekends I don’t visit anymore because I’m busy or I get lazy, but I need to because my dad always go online on Ovoo. He goes online from 11:00 AM up to 2:00 PM sometimes. He always asks us how we’re doing, the kids, but we mostly go our separate ways after a while then he and Tita talk for hours. We also go to church on Sundays together, but often Tita would go alone or only with me since my brothers can’t be bothered to do so. I don’t like going to church, but I don’t like Tita feeling alone also. After church, my brothers join us for dinner. Later, I go home by myself or they take me home by car. 

I’m going to describe my family at present: In 2014, became less of one person. She’s in heaven now, probably watching over the family she has invested on for so many years. Our house in Boni is less of one matron de arc, but my younger brother lives with two friends as borders. He doesn’t communicate with us much, despite the years of being together, but has episodes of total sadness and I don’t know how to comfort him. Yesterday, he seemed okay, but he had no stories for us except that he doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore. My older brother lives with his family not far from my house, he has now two bouncing balls of energy as sons who keep him busy and a rocky marriage with his wife. I’m not sure what’s the deal with them now, because every quarter we get a press release from my brother that they’re going to finally separate. Yesterday, they seemed okay. I still live with my mom. Things between has never changed, but probably I have more authority over my actions now. She welcomes my younger brother in her house, but it’s more complicated for him than just living with us. There’s a lot more to deal with. My dad is still in America, trying his best to deal with old age, the loss of a loved one, and three kids who cannot communicate with him on a daily basis like Tita did. He must be very sad, feeling lonely and alone, but we can’t help it. We grew up never connecting that well with him. At least with my older brother and I. My younger brother grew up with him, but not me. Over the last months I lived with him, I get to know him better–and worse–but it’s probably late to demand being “malambing” children to us. I already had an established personality when I connected with him, so I can’t be the “princess” he always wanted me to be. My siblings and I don’t talk much. We mostly like Facebook statuses and pictures, give a short comment here and there, but we probably talk more, hang out more with our friends. We don’t hug, we don’t text, we don’t assure each other that we’re gonna be there all the time. I guess the latter is already understood, even without words. When my family meets, even after a long time of not being together, we don’t catch up, we don’t say “I miss you” to each other, we’re not excited over each others’ presence and I’m not sure how to feel about this. I guess, at the back of my mind, I’ve always longed for the kind of family I see on TV, or the ones my friends have, but that’s not the one I have. I can’t say I’m unlucky because I love them nonetheless.

This is my reality and of my family. Also a reminder to just go with what they want for the next birthday treat and not insist on things I like (eherm, Japanese food). Haaaay…what’s gonna happen in the next years to us? Will we still be in the same country? How much will we miss each other? I guess I’ll just have to hold on and see.

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Kabe-don: How tough guys show their love!

The “gyudon” and “cicada-don” got me LOLing XDDD

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If you happen to watch a lot of anime or read manga that features tough guys, there’s almost invariably a scene in which the tough guy is leaning over someone else, pressing them against a wall, his hand slammed up on it. It’s a great visual since it simultaneously looks cool and helps establish how much of a badass the guy is supposed to be.

This pose is called, in Japanese Internet speak, “kabe-don,” with “kabe” meaning “wall” and “don” being the sound of someone hitting a hard object–like a wall.

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There was once a girl who had no idea what she would do with her life: no exact ambition, no motivation, lazy, self-hating, in need of attention and affirmation. She was in her early 20s. throughout those years, she would jump from work to work, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Was it the environment? Was it the people? Was it the job? Was it her?
She had no idea. No, she had a lot of ideas. But she had no idea what to do with the ideas.

For years, she would mask her happiness in front of others. Preach about success and motivation and dreams. Inside, her heart would break a little bit because the voice sounds very distant, an echo from the end of a tunnel. A very hallow tunnel with a speck of light from the distance. “Is that me?”, she wonders. No, it wasn’t her. It’s the same voice, but she could not connect with it. That proud voice talking of a brighter future and amazing adventures were in a shell, and it was empty.

The girl lives, floating like a balloon, lost.

A big event arrives in her life, making her realize that she’s capable of things she had always turned her back from. She said she hates cooking, but she did it anyway. She had no choice due to the circumstances. She hated the clean-up, but she was sure, somehow, a bud of interest was there. There’s a bud of change she was willing to take care of. Things were changing.

The girl still lives today. Still lost and without a clear vision of what she wants to be. Sometimes, she would write in her diary about her day, about her woes, her worries, her insecurities, of challenges and changes. Yet, for each end of her writing, she’s a little bit more positive. She’s taking steps to change herself, maybe her life. She’s written goals to do for the year. Heck, she even gave some years a theme. There’s some untested waters in front of her, and they are deep and can drown her whole. But she’s willing to dip her toes, she’s ready to plunge in. She can’t swim, or can she?

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