Mikee likes to refer to herself in the third person sometimes.

This is her 5th online journal and she solemnly swears that she will update it with posts that are descriptive of her current emotional state, current happenings and memories close to her heart.

Even if it’s a dumb story, telling it changes other people just the slightest little bit, just as living the story changes me. An infinitesimal change. And that infinitesimal change ripples outward –ever forgotten, but the stories will last. And so we all matter –maybe less than a lot, but always more than none.

–An Abundance of Katherines, John Green

It is crucial for her to find Anne through her stories, for Anne is the adult who knows the difference between right and wrong and acts after deciding carefully without letting her soft side take over. Mikee is controlled by her child self who is deeply fascinated with all things bright and beautiful. Her parent self, contemplates her actions and guides her with virtues close to home. And if you don’t know what the metaphor means, think id, ego, superego -concepts from Psychology, a science she spent 4 years of college studying.

She leaves it to your better judgment to decide if her thoughts are worth sharing and if Anne is worth finding.

Ang taas ng sikat ng araw kaninang umaga. Tila nagbibiro ang langit; Hayan ka, handa na sa panibagong yugto ng iyong buhay. Heto ako, ipinagtatagpi ang kahapong pinagpira-piraso mo.

“Ang bilis mo namang nakalimot.”

Pwede ka namang dumating nang walang iniiwang bakas. Bakit kailangan mo pang wasakin ang pag-ibig na dumadaloy sa mga puno at kalsada? Bakit kailangan mo pang magiwan ng bahid ng mga alaalang nakaukit sa dahong pilit inilalapit sa akin ng hanging mapaglaro?

Bakit ngayon pa?

“There is no great agony than bearing an untold story within you.”

–Maya Angelou

I haven’t written in a while. Words used to spill from the tip of my fingertips every time something sad or beautiful happens. Right now these words seem like strangers, meeting for the first time, not knowing how to begin.

1 class, 8 subjects, 63 children and 11 non-readers later, I can still say that I wouldn’t trade this job for anything else. Nothing else makes me feel more alive than being a classroom teacher. Yes, I complain from time to time. Yes, I don’t like handwriting lesson plans. And yes, I get mad at my children every now and then but I can still sleep with a happy heart because of this job.

But my greatest fear is that I won’t be strong enough to choose teaching after my contract with Teach for the Philippines ends this school year. As much as I love my job, I still have to ensure my financial stability and my personal growth. I can’t keep on relying on my parents forever (and no, contrary to popular belief, marrying rich is not an option for me). I want to study (hopefully abroad). I want to see more of the world. I also want to help send my brothers to school, build a house for my parents and eventually be able to provide for my own family without being dependent on my future husband.

Sometimes I wish I was born wealthy so I wouldn’t have to worry about these things. Sometimes I get jealous of the people who can just follow their passions without thinking of the financial consequences. But then again, if I wasn’t raised the way I was, I probably won’t want the things I want now. My heart might be somewhere else and I will most likely have a different way of doing things.

I just want to find a way to merge my passion with practical matters.

Does it always have to be one or the other?

Disclaimer: This is not a movie review. 

The Fault In Our Stars is my least favorite John Green novel. I was surprised to find myself liking the movie adaptation though. Unlike most people I know, I didn’t like it because it gave me #somanyfeelings of romance or loss. I liked it because it focused on celebrating a life lived rather than a life lost.

Losing people we love is inevitable. But despite knowing that it is inevitable, nothing can really prepare us for it when it happens. But we live through it anyway. We always do. I know this because I had spent 4 years “working” with children diagnosed with cancer, because I have to say goodbye to my students every year, because boys come and go and because my grandfather passed away when I was still too young to understand what dying really meant.

Pain and loss can be defined in so many ways, and sometimes when we watch movies like The Fault In Our Stars, we get so wrapped up in the idea that everyone else goes through the same thing, that somewhere out there someone can relate to what we feel, that we are not alone.  There’s a line in a song that says “you can be addicted to a certain kind of sadness,” and I think it’s true. People love taking pity on others, and on themselves. My growing collection of tragic novels and movies prove that I am guilty of it too. I guess what I am trying to say is that sometimes we become too obsessed with brokenness that we forget to look at the parts that aren’t broken. If anything, I think the movie reminded me that no matter what the end goal will be, it’s always a privilege to live and love.

This week, I was wondering if loving really is worth all the effort and risk but as Augustus Waters puts it, “it would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.”

What other way is there to live?

 

Seeing them all so eager to learn makes everything worth it. 

But the truth is, some of them don’t even want to be in school. I know because they say scream it to my face. And some of the new kids are just downright disrespectful. Sometimes it makes me forget why I am here.

I’ll give you all my days and nights because I love you.

I’d give the world to you [collective] if I could but the truth is I can’t. I haven’t had time for myself lately and as much as I want to be everybody’s go-to girl, I have to recharge. I can’t remember the last time I did something that I wanted to do. I feel like I’ve poured out all the love I can give to this job, to my students, to the people who matter most but forgot someone who deserves to be loved too –myself. And I want to be the selfless one. I do. I want to be the one who gives and gives and doesn’t ask for anything in return. But the truth is, there’s a selfish side to me too and it would be nice to be heard, to feel important, to be taken care of and be given respect every once in a while, not because I asked for it but because I deserve it.

I choose to write about good things because I want the positivity to spread.

But the truth is, tonight I don’t have it in me to fake it. Most days I can live without talking about my feelings in depth. Most days I can deal with all the worries spinning around my head. Most days I can ignore the nagging feeling that I have to pull away for a while.

But today is not like most days.

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