Things Worth Fighting For

🌈🌈🌈🦄🦄🦄 Happy Pride Month, Beshies! 💯💯💯 🎉🎉🎉

Though we can celebrate and march openly, there are still many that can’t. We still have a loooooooooooong way to go.

In honor of love, openness, visibility, all things that are beautiful, and fighting for the right to have this, I’m posting this poem I wrote and performed specifically for Metro Manila Pride March and Festival 2016. Yes, I needed 1 year to be brave enough to post this publicly. Ok ang dami ko na namang kuda. Lols. Here it is:

I spent most of my life trying to blend in.
Try to fade into the background.
Try not to be noticed.
Shhh. Be quiet.
No one wants to hear you speak.
It wasn’t always like that.
I wasn’t always like that.

As a child, I am vibrant and full of life.
Armed with big and colorful wings that you can see from a mile away, telling everyone,
“I don’t know what I am yet, I’m not sure what I’m going to turn into,
but look at me. I am here. I am beautiful. I exist.”

But when I look around, I see that there is no one like me.

So I try to be brave, stand alone, unafraid.
Sticking out like a sore thumb in the sea of black and white
I see all eyes on me.
Some fascinated, some curious, some mocking, some disappointed, some disgusted, but mostly afraid.

They look at me like what I have is contagious
As if my existence is like a virus that can spread like an epidemic
So they try to cure me
Inject me with doctrine
Quarantine me until I’m better
Tell me over and over again that I am sinful,
That God made Eve for Adam and everything else is incorrect,
That this is just a phase, I’ll grow out of it.
That people like me are lost and need saving.

Then they break my bones to fit a straitjacket, so I will begin to look like everyone else;
Put a muzzle on me so that I can’t speak.
They’ve erased me.
Made me blend in, fade into the background, no one even noticed.
I was taught that once all of my colors have faded away, I’ll finally be free.

But I guess, I wasn’t meant for that kind of freedom.
They’ve clipped my wings but they keep on growing back.
They’ve anchored me down with their words but the ropes are not strong enough.
They tried to cage me in guilt, but I’ll always find a way out.

Look at me.
Like you, I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Like you, I am a creation meant to take up space. I am matter.
I matter.
All I ask is that you do not erase me.
Let me be here.
Let me exist.


Life is Full of Surprises: Life Update as of May 2016

I’m a fairly optimistic person, when I’m in the mood. Always seeing the good in people (’till they piss me off), seeing the rainbow after a storm, the sunshine through a cloudy day, and all the clichés that you can relate to optimism.

I grew up thinking I can be whoever I wanted to be and achieve whatever I wanted to achieve with enough prayer and hard work as my mom would always say. I have a lot of dreams, but life hasn’t always been good. Continue reading “Life is Full of Surprises: Life Update as of May 2016”

On Getting Punched On The Head By Some Random Dude

Hello! I’m back, sort of. Sharing this story online because my mom wanted more people to know that this can happen and it might help you become more aware of your surroundings. (She wants this to go viral. She’s social media savvy now, so cute.)  Continue reading “On Getting Punched On The Head By Some Random Dude”

F*ck That: A Guided Meditation

“Those assholes can’t piss all over a purity like this.”

I haven’t written anything in a while. There’s been a lot going on and haven’t really been able to regain my bearings just yet but I’m getting there. I’m getting there.

A great friend shared this video with me earlier and I found it so beautiful I felt like I needed to share it with y’all. If you are very sensitive about language, don’t watch the video.

“Breathe in strength, breathe out bullshit.”

One step at a time. One step at a time.

So You Want To Be An Artist? (or How To Deal With Disappointment 101 or Notes on Funemployment 1)

Featured imageImage from berlin-artparasites

I was around 3 or 4 when I asked my parents to let me join Little Miss Philippines on Eat Bulaga because I wanted to be just like Aiza Seguerra. I wanted to have my own TV Show, star in my own movie, endorse all the hotdogs I could ever want but my Father said no. He told me to focus on my academics because he doesn’t want me to end up like all the problematic celebrity kids. But I could not be stopped. I joined all of the productions I could. It did not matter if I was a tree swaying in the background or the star of the show. I would finish my homework early so I could play dress up and practice my Little Miss Philippines spiel in front of the mirror. 

For as long as I can remember, I’ve known that I wanted to be in the limelight. It wasn’t just about becoming famous and getting the applause. It was about sharing your life with about 10 million different people at once. Connecting with them. Hopefully making an impact in their lives.

I’ve pretty much known from the get go that this was where I was meant to be, but sometimes life takes over. You’re not pretty enough. You’re too ordinary. Nobody’s gonna cast a big girl. Be smart, girl. Don’t waste your life trying to chase an impossible dream. With my self-esteem lower than the average temperature in Antartica, I hid behind my thick lenses to protect myself from the cruelty of onlookers; used my books and my stories to help me figure out where the hell am I supposed to bring myself now. Continue reading “So You Want To Be An Artist? (or How To Deal With Disappointment 101 or Notes on Funemployment 1)”