Introspections & Retrospections

01| Bushi+DO: On Benevolence

It had been a tiring, yet good day. I had fun, both during the kendo practice, as well as the club dinner afterwards with our guest teachers. I headed home, giddy from the freebies, my thoughts drifting to the manuscript I need to work on when I get home.

A stray kitten mewed in the night.

I stopped. You don’t really have the time for this, don’t you? I told myself.

So I spent the next 15-20 minutes coaxing the kitten from its hiding place. Save for some minor scratches, I felt happy. But now what?  Continue reading

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Introspections & Retrospections

On The Book: Jewels & Letters

Thanks to OMF Literature, I got a chance to attend a book launch at Glorietta last Friday (16 June 2017). I got some freebies, too! But as much as I hate going to public events, getting to hear the authors talk about their books in person was worth it.

Rica Peralejo-Bonifacio shared with us the story behind her first book, Better than Jewels, while Isa Garcia talked about the inspirations which led her to compile Found: Letters on Love, Life, and God for publication.

Now, here’s what I think about the books:

Continue reading

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Introspections & Retrospections

There’s a Lonely Place Between Worlds and Words

There are two kinds of loneliness; three, if you include the discipline of writing.

An empty house. A solitary stroll. Working on a project by one’s self. There’s a sense of loneliness in them, but not all the time. More often a longing for companionship, a teasing reminder that it sucks to be alone.  Continue reading

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Introspections & Retrospections

Pray For Marawi

It’s been barely a day since the rebel group, now considered as terrorists, have brought horror on Marawi City in Mindanao, Philippines. Yet, instead of empathizing, we Filipinos find ourselves back into our old selves: in-fighting, back-biting, pointless and shameless criticisms and blames hurled towards one another.

Every now and then, a dissenting voice calling for prayers squeaks on social media. Every now and then, a misdirected angry voice stirs trouble again, reviving the old ugly cycle.

There’s so much we can accomplish if we stop antagonizing each other and focus on working together. Our bickering won’t help our fellow Filipinos in Marawi.  Continue reading

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Short Story | Fiction

A Parable For The Lost

It was almost 10:00pm. Elsewhere, people spent the night with friends and families, or resting in their homes. Others were already on their way, albeit stuck in overcrowded buses or jammed roads; still, they’re on the move — unlike us, still waiting for our own ride. Unlike me, simply watching each bus pass me by.

A taxi glided towards me, rolled down its window, and waited for an offer. I tried to ignore the expectant face behind the wheel; I’ve learned to distrust their service, even when I understood their plight. I couldn’t tell what the driver thought as he drove past me; eager passengers had already raced towards his vehicle. A few frustrated people cussed at the taxi driver, but it didn’t matter; there was one less competition in the waiting shed, one less rival to a decent ride home.

And I just wanted to go home. But not right now; not right away. I was tired, but it was not as tiring as spending the nights in abject solitude. Amidst the standing crowd of stranded commuters, I didn’t felt alone. And soon enough, I felt satisfied, reminded fully well why I often chose to be alone. Continue reading

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Introspections & Retrospections

Til Love Makes Us One

Just because I’m a hopeless romantic doesn’t mean I love weddings. I hate the fact that I’m forced to buy new clothes and shoes. I hate the fact that I’ve pressured myself to lose weight, not just to fit into the formal wear, but to look decently good for the photos. I hate the times when I have to switch into temporary-extrovert mode as I’m coerced into joining the games during reception.

And I hate that bittersweet melancholy as the celebration ends, as guests trickle away and empty the place, as the lovely couple finally leave with each other — to finally, truly live with each other — and all that’s left are the memory and inspiration of the moment, and a hopefulness brewing, stirring inside.

And I can’t help but sigh because, as much as my rational mind refutes it, I find myself at the end of each wedding believing in magic. Continue reading

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