𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴𝓮𝓷𝓭 𝓟𝓪𝓰𝓮𝓼

I honestly don't know where and how to start with this blog entry. I am rambling incomplete thoughts and broken sentences this week in my journal because I can't contain my emotions.  How should I start this? I asked myself. It's 7:30 AM and I am typing away my thoughts at work. Earlier today, I was journaling at 4:20 AM, and I asked God, "Lord, why do I feel this way towards my work? Why do I feel dissatisfied? Why do I feel impatient towards the job that gives me income and is funding my travels, hobbies, my stomach, and munchkin's needs? A job that placed us in a privileged state -- a roof over our heads, 24/7. A spacious apartment for me and my sister to live in. Clothes to wear, gadgets to feel connected to the world, shoes to protect my feet from blisters and calluses, and among other things - this job helped me get my diploma." Then I came across a post on Threads, they quoted Jodi Sta. Maria, a Filipina actress, "I am tired but I have to be gratef...

Listening to Olivia Rodrigo’s Honeybee , I found myself thinking about how rare and fragile human connection really is. It’s not just about being in the same room, or sharing the same silence, it’s about one soul reaching out to another, and being met with recognition. Love, when stripped of its illusions, is presence. It is not ownership, not control, not the attempt to mold another into your image. It’s the way someone sees you, not as a puzzle to solve, but as a whole being to embrace. To be known deeply, and still chosen, is the kind of intimacy that binds two people beyond circumstance. It’s about the invisible thread that ties you to another person, reminding you that you are not alone in this vast, chaotic world. When someone knows your rhythms, your pauses, your unspoken words, that’s when love becomes more than feeling. It becomes understanding. And yet, connection is fragile. It asks for vulnerability, for the courage to be seen without armor. It’s terrifying to let someone w...

I once agreed with the thought that letting go is the final act of love, because love is never about possession. Loving someone and loving yourself are different, but both ask for acceptance. Acceptance is peace, knowing you can give your whole heart, hold on to make it work, and still let go when it becomes too heavy. When people say letting go is the final act of love, they’re pointing to the truth that love isn’t about possession. You don’t own someone; you share a part of life with them. And when holding on starts to hurt more than it heals, letting go becomes a way of honoring both yourself and the person you love. But acceptance is what makes that letting go possible. It’s the recognition that you gave your whole heart, you tried, and now you choose peace over struggle. Acceptance doesn’t mean the love was wasted — it means the love was real, and it shaped you into who you are right now. I’ve always believed love isn’t about ownership, it’s about presence. To love someone is to w...

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...