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The G12 Philippines Aftermath

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Photo by Patrick Schneider on Unsplash I heard from a close friend that — after almost a decade — my previous church left the G12 system. It came as a shock. But I saw its eventuality after I left in 2020. I was relieved that my former spiritual leaders had finally seen G12 for what it truly is — a cultic system that has divided churches more than it has unified. But anger had already crept in as soon as I realized how late they were with the decision. Many have already left and are now tending to their spiritual traumas. All of this for what? I seethed in what was left of my self-righteousness. Someone has to be accountable. Healing will not be possible if no one will take responsibility for the hurt that has been inflicted to people who only wanted a God-centered community. If our spiritual leaders back then really had “spiritual discernment,” why did it take them this long to leave G12? Why weren’t we, their flock, warned and insulated from the dangers of it? Where is the pastoral
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Missing my mother terribly today

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Photo by Kevin Jackson on Unsplash I miss my mother every day. She died on February 25, 2017. And ever since, I have been navigating life with the weight of her loss. Some days are easier than most. But recently, I discovered the weight getting heavier around her death anniversary and mother’s day. On sobering breakdowns and ironic epiphanies Just recently, days before mother’s day, I had a proper emotional breakdown. Time and again, I have braced for these waves. And as with time, it became bearable. But not this one, I’m afraid. Trying my hardest to ride the waves of grief, I got sucked in the quicksand of my heart. After drying my tears and grounding my thoughts, an ironic epiphany befallen upon me. The epiphany explained When I was in elementary, I had always prided myself with my academic achievements. I can count with my fingers the number of times I failed to be in the honor roll. I was never pressured by my mother to be the best, I just knew back then how excelling in school w
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NEWS FLASH: I am ready to make new friends!

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Photo by Peter Thomas on Unsplash Oh, the nostalgia! “One day when I get to write my book, I’ll never forget to include your names on it.” Read the caption on an Facebook post from a friend. Her post was a picture of us with another friend in BGC. It was one of those days when a specific memory found me unawares. I’d be listening to an old song and out of nowhere a sliver of memory would trickle into my mind, and before I knew it, I’m already awash with a deluge of the past. Most of the time it would be a fun recollection, and when it’s all dried up, sadness would creep in. The house metaphor My life would have been empty without a number of people who have barged in, banged on its doors, and rang the doorbell. Some I let in happily; Some I locked out. For those I had welcomed, two possibilities awaited: (1) They would start hating the interiors but would end up beguiled by how cozy such a space becomes. (2) They would enter the premise awed and slack-jawed until they’d notice the cra
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February 25

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The sun waved hi The morning you bid goodbye; Felt like nothing and everything Changed at the same time. As the hospital woke up, You had fallen asleep. As they wheeled you out the door, I counted all the promises I failed to keep. Relatives were notified. Not a tear in my eye. Parched heart beating slow, Feeling restless but I got nowhere to go. Did you lie next to your body? Did you watch me as I packed? Did you visit your favorite places? Did you think of going back? Did you hear my I love yous? Did you notice the weather that day? Did you soak in the sun, had your fun, Before you finally went on your way? Documents were processed. Memories were accessed. Your last dress was bought, Your last moments rethought. While the country commemorated the bravery Of those who marched to reclaim our democracy, A silent song rose within me — A remembrance of what was and what is meant to be. For nothing is bolder than to love courageously In the face of certain uncertainty. And from that moment
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Grieving is for the living

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Photo by Jun on Unsplash Grieving is for the living; the dead passes on  while we're stuck. There's only so much grief  that the heart can entertain. Life is a sad broken track. We process it differently,  but we go through it just the same. There's no ounce of growth to be had,  when we're all wallowing in its crippling pain. Grief emancipates. Grief imprisons. Grief rises and sets. Grief has seasons. Grief is a moving target. Grief is an empathetic pet. Grief breathes life and robs for the wrong reasons. Grief is a pit in your stomach. Grief is a whirlpool in the sea. Grief is an abandoned shipwreck. Grief is a lovely company. Grief is a journey. Grief is wheeled with the gurney. Grief is a whisper to the void. Grief is an AI powering an android. Grief darkens. Grief glimmers. Grief forgets and then remembers. Grief connects. Grief divides. Grief reflects. Grief provides. Grief grows with us until the end. When it leaves, Grief becomes our last friend. Grief transfor
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Hilarious, moving, and insightful lines from Fleabag season 1

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Episode 1 Fleabag summarizes her life and the first episode quite eloquently: screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com Episode 2 After getting back with her ex-boyfriend, Fleabag spoils his dinner surprise and they end up breaking-up for real. screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com Episode 3 The first sequence of the episode sees Fleabag running towards the camera. She stops, takes a deep breath before blurting out "jogging."  screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com Episode 4 Fleabag bares her soul to an old acquaintance she meets during a female-only silent retreat. screenshot courtesy of BBC Studios twobrotherspictures.com scree
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clout chasers

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  When in doubt, always chase clout. Dreams are overrated. My running has borne me no fruit, only callouses around the ankle, and a bad knee to boot. Maybe in the next life I'll be born into a family of millionaires. No need to hurry up. Eventually, I will get there. For now, making it viral, starting out dramas, spewing out controversies, being at the right place and at the right time is the only place to be. Capitalizing on controversies is one of my specialties—  manufacturing fake news with headlines that are clickbaity. I'd rather lose social points than vanish into oblivion. In truth, we're all fame whores, who want nothing less, only more. Or am I the only one? You can't cancel me. I'll rise like the phoenix, you'll see. From the ashes of someone else's reputation, I'll become your worst enemy. Horny for attention. Oh, I forgot to mention: Celebrity deaths warm my heart. Ratioed to pieces. You thought I wouldn't own it? Guess, I have mastered
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