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.

Neil was going to use the shower head Kilo bought as a replacement. Kilo found out about it and got mad at Neil. Neil called him fat and Kilo cried.

Suddenly, the three of us were in a table and I was trying to counsel them both, trying to get their issues out with each other. Kilo threw sliced onions at Neil and Neil threw sliced onions back.

I just watched.


As far as I am concerned, there is no feud or misunderstanding between Kilo and Neil. I do not know why I had a dream about them. I also do not know why they decided to settle their disagreement by throwing onions at each other.

I found myself in  small village, in a lush forest surrounded by beautiful people and magical creatures. The view was breathtaking and while I was taking a moment to make sense of it all, spiky monkeys came out of nowhere to ravage the village.

Kilo was out there but there was no time to find him. I figured if I kept myself alive I could come up with a plan to save him and the others. So I hid in a burrow and the grass slowly crept in to cover my body. The spiky monkeys had no idea I survived the attack.

I don’t know how long I stayed there. All I know was I fell into a deep sleep and when I woke up, Kilo was right beside me. He says he had falleninto the burrow, broke my grass protection and found me sleeping peacefully. I felt glad that we were together again, but I could also hear the spiky monkeys from afar. They were coming back. I have to find a way to hide us.

I stepped out of the burrow and saw the townspeople moving about. There was something different about them. Their eyes were dark and lifeless. I avoided them to be safe  and found garbage bags laying around. I picked up a few and use it to cover the burrow.

When I got back to the burrow, I sat down (suddenly, there was more room than usual) and watched the townspeople mindlessly pick up more garbage. One of them laid eyes on me and shouted to the others. “Lord help me,” I whispered. When the villagers came to look, a warm light surrounded me acting like an invisible shield.

They walked away and left me.

My dreams always put my life in danger, but somehow I survive every one of them. I wonder what this means.

Mace: Tang ina doon ka pa ba magdududa? Yung alam mo sa sarili mo na siya na yung pakakasalan mo, na alam mo balang araw yung apelyido niya magiging apelyido mo na rin. Pero wala naman pala ‘yun sa, sa tagal ng relasyon ninyo eh. Kung hindi ka na niya mahal, hindi ka na niya mahal. Hindi na kita mahal. Makakaalis ka na. 7 words. Yung 8 years namin nagawa niyang tapusin sa 7 words. Tang ina 8 years kami. Siguro naman deserve ko na bigyan niya pa ako ng isa pang pagkakataon… para magmakaawa sa kanya… para ipaalala sa kanya na tang ina, ako yung mahal mo di’ba? Anong nangyari? Ganoon na lang. Ganoon pala kadaling makalimot.

Anthony: Hindi ka na niya mahal. Yun na yun. Ano pang hindi malinaw doon?

Mace: Sabihin man lang niya sa akin kung bakit. Ipaliwanag man lang niya kung ano ba yung nagawa ko. Ano ba yung nagawa ko?

Anthony: Kung sinabi ba niya sa’yo kung bakit may magbabago ba?

–That Thing Called Tadhana

Naiintindihan ko na kung bakit tumatak ang pelikulang ito sa puso ng mga Pilipino. Itong-ito rin ang sinabi ko sa sarili ko nung nawala ka. Bakit ganun, umalis ka lang ng walang paliwanag? Sa tagal ng pinagsamahan natin, inakala ko hindi ka bibitaw ng ganoon kadali. Pero wala, ganun siguro talaga yun. Isang araw magigising ka na lang tapos ayaw mo na. Balewala lahat ng taong pinagsamahan.

Hanggang ngayon hindi ko pa rin naiintindihan kung anong nangyari. Kung saan ba ako nagkulang. Kung bakit hindi kayang pantayan ng pagmamahal ang lahat ng naging pagkukulang ko.

Dati kapag naaalala kita parang dinudurog ng pinong-pino ang puso ko. Pisikal kong nararamdaman yung sakit nang mawala ka. Pero ngayon kahit makita pa kita ulit, wala na yung kirot. Unti-unti na akong nabubuo. Kaya lang, hindi ko pa rin maiwasang manghinayang.

Sayang eh. Sayang talaga.

Martes ang pinakaayaw kong araw.

Kailangan kong gumising ng mas maaga para ihanda ang mga ituturo sa mga bata, at tapusin ang asignatura sa Quanti kung hindi ko pa nagagawa. Minsan may mga hugasin na kailangang tapusin, o di kaya’y baon na kailangang lutuin. Pagkatapos ay maglilinis (bakit palagi akong naglilinis?) pa o biglang makakakita ng bagay na bubutingtingin. Sa isang kisapmata, alas-10 imedya na. Kailangan nang gumayak para pumasok at turuan ang isa o dalawang batang bumasa.

Pagsapit ng alas-12, simula na ng mahabang pagtuturo. Minsan mapayapa sa klase. Madalas maingay. Masaya namang ituro lahat maliban sa Araling Panlipunan (dahil ang gabay ng guro ay halos walang laman) lalo na kung ang mga bata ay nagdadaldalan.

Kanina, sa kauna-unahang pagkakataon, may 2 batang nagsuntukan. Pauwi na kami, nakapila na, pababa na ng hagdanan. Nasa likod ako, binabantayan ang Kuya na panay ang pang-aasar sa mga batang kapatid niya. Hindi ko lubos akalain na lilipad ang maliit na kamao sa mata ng mas matanda, at ang isa naman ay mabubukulan sa bumbunan.

Pagkatapos ng mahabang usapan, oras na para magtungo sa Ateneo. Wala nanaman akong maiintindihan dahil hindi ko naumpisahan ang talakayan. Sulat dito, sulat doon. Minsan sa sarili’y di maiwasang ibulong, bobo ba ako? Bakit ako lang ang nalilito? Tatlong oras na ganito. Tatlong oras ng pagkamot sa ulo.

Pagkatapos ng kalbaryo, maghihintay pa ng 60 minuto. Kakalam ang sikmura, at bigla kong maaalala, hindi pa pala ako naghahapunan, gutom ay biglang mararamdaman.

Nang sa wakas ay makauwi, biglang mangingiwi. Hindi pa tapos, pero malapit nang makakaraos. Wala akong oras at pera noong nakaraang linggo, kaya ngayong gabi, maglalaba pa ako.

Minsan hindi ko maintindihan kung bakit kahit gaano sila kaingay at kagulo (at handa man ako o hindi), mayroon pa rin akong nadaramang pananabik sa bawat araw ng pagtuturo.

Paano ba ako magpapaalam sa trabahong ito? At paano ba ako magpapaalam sa mga batang minahal ko ng buong puso?

I have never felt this frustrated in a long time. Forgive the long post. (Disclaimer: This is not education/school related. It is not insightful nor profound. I am just not sure if I did the right thing so this is me overthinking and upset.)

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