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Movie Journal | Be careful what you wish for

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I finished Obsession and it had me gripping for what’s coming next. It’s not the kind of horror that lets you off easy — the suffocating feeling clung to me all throughout the movie. Nikki is the one I pity the most. Her obsession isn’t loud or obvious at first; it’s quiet, invasive, and then suddenly overwhelming. The scene where Bear asked if her father had cancer, and everything that followed, scared the hell out of me. Watching her spiral felt like watching someone unravel in real time, and it made me think about how love can slip into control when boundaries collapse. https://ph.pinterest.com/pin/1141592205570242515/ Bear, on the other hand, is painfully human. His desperation to be loved, to be noticed by Nikki, to bend reality just to keep her close — it’s tragic and sickening. I kind of love that he got what he deserved after bewitching Nikki into seeing him through a romantic lens. That choice, the “One Wish Willow,” is what led him to realize that being obsessed with someone...
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On being mindful of the little things

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There are instances when I notice the little things: the tone of someone’s voice, the way they show (or don’t show) care. Lately, I’ve been feeling under the weather, and in that state of quiet observation, I found myself watching the people I spend time with. I suppose I could call them my friends now. Human as we are, we make mistakes and mishaps . Sometimes, they’re not as mindful as I expect them to be — not in the same way I try to be mindful whenever I sense someone needs help or an extra dose of TLC. And maybe that’s just human nature: to be selfish, or at least unaware. A small example: I wasn’t offered a seat during lunch. I stood while waiting for my food yo be ready, and it was fine, the table was tall enough for me to eat comfortably. But deep inside, I felt a pang of disappointment. The empty chair was right next to my friend, and I suppose she didn’t notice me standing. The tricky part is that not everyone has the same sensitivity or awareness. Some people — like me — exp...
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If Cats Disappeared from the World

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This year I challenged myself to read 25 books, and I’ve just finished my 14th. If Cats Disappeared from the World by Genki Kawamura was a short, poignant read that I devoured in less than 24 hours. It’s a story about loss, love, and the bargains we make with time. The narrator’s deal with the devil — trading away things from the world in exchange for more days to live — forces us to confront what truly matters. The simplicity of the prose carries a surprising emotional weight; each disappearance feels like a mirror reflecting our own attachments. As a cat mom, the thought of a world without cats struck me deeply. The book isn’t really about cats alone, but about the irreplaceable threads, things, and even people that gives meaning into our lives. It left me asking myself: what would I be willing to give up, and what would I fight to keep? If I were to die sooner than expected, I imagine the things I’d surrender for a 24‑hour extension of life. My choices might look like this: Cellphon...
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Better days are here

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It was Saturday, the last of my two rest days. I woke to the pitter-patter of rain on my apartment roof, with Munchkin curled beside me — cold, a little scared of the morning downpour, but safe in our blankets.  I couldn’t fall back asleep, yet I didn’t turn on the lights. It was a cozy, gray morning, the kind that makes you want to linger longer in bed and relax for a while.  Munchkin ran across the bed, meowing at the window — her way of telling me to open the curtains. I obliged, and there she was, wide-eyed at the world outside. Her energy made me laugh, and I realized how much lighter mornings feel when the chores are already done the night before. A small discipline, a big reward: peace, and more time to redirect my energies to the activities I want to do before going back to work.  I picked up my current read, The Witch of Portobello by Paulo Coelho , scribbled in my journal, and recited my morning affirmations. The day was already starting beautifully. Hours passe...
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From the Passenger's Seat

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I suddenly thought of traveling in the Visayas region again. Today is a Sunday and I am prone to daydreaming. My Spotify daily mix playlist transported me back to the time I was in Victorias City in Negros Occidental in 2017.  It was my first time crossing from island to island, and was fortunate enough to do it for free because I was with my step-grandmother. We were doing "workcation" before it became a thing. My grandfather had employed me to manage their business in Cebu, and I got the chance to hop on one of their work trips.  Strangely enough, I didn't miss home. I do miss my maternal grandmother, but I feel leaving my hometown was necessary for my growth. And surprisingly, I was right. Leaving home opened my eyes to how vast the world is. One thing I'll never forget from that trip was the night we stayed in Daanbantayan before crossing to Negros Occidental. The land trip was exhausting since we were just sitting the whole time from Lapu-Lapu. I woke up early to...
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When you have no idea what to do next

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I finished my Psychology degree last year, and now I’m standing at that strange crossroads where everyone seems to have an answer for what comes next. “Review for the board exams, take the HR certification, apply for jobs in your field…” The list goes on. And yes, those things are part of my plans — someday. But right now, I’m talking about the present. The quiet, uncertain space between endings and beginnings. I don’t want to spike my cortisol by rushing through every checklist at once. I’m learning that the “in‑between” is not wasted time. It’s where I get to listen to myself, to notice what excites me, what drains me, what feels true. To notice how my shoulders loosen when I stop rushing, how my breath slows when I stop forcing clarity. It’s where I remind myself that clarity doesn’t always arrive on command. Sometimes it comes slowly, like dawn breaking. So for now, I’m choosing to sit with the pause. To trust and savor every silent mornings, and cozy nights. To believe that not ...
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Girl’s Girl and Femininity is a Double-Edged Sword

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Why I'm No Longer a Girl's Girl I used to be one a few years back. I support all women doing whatever the fuck they want. Unfortunately, I wasn't too distinct with me being a "girl's girl" , and the version I was introduced to was too narrow. Mind you, I used to wear that label proudly.  I remember how I was so assertive about it as well — at work and in my relationships. Until I realized I was only into the positive and encouraging aspects of femininity. And in some ways, I still believe in supporting women's freedom — the right to education, the right to vote, our choices, and our voices.  Girl's girl and femininity is a double-edged sword.  Yes, we can be as supportive as we want to be, especially toward our friends. But what we don’t talk about enough is the envy and competitiveness that can exist within a friend group. The subtle comparisons, unspoken rivalries, that often go unnoticed because we're too busy performing solidarity.  Somewhere ...
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