Prodigal Love


Give your best.

Give him your best.

Love him the best way that you can…

And if in the end things don’t work out–of course with all that you are, you’re hoping that it will– at least, you can tell yourself that you did not lack.

Just love him wholly, truthfully, and faithfully..

…without holding anything back.

They say it’s too much.

But I say, it’s love…

..a prodigal kind of love…

The Unwanted Friend

Uncertainties and fears have crippled me,

Told the world to let me be,

My mind was filled with such a confusion,

Engulfed by sadness—

Drowned out the fiery passion.



In their eyes

I am the strong one,

But only I know when all my strength has gone,

Abandoned and orphaned a person such as I,

No one has ever heard my silent cries.



Half alive and scarcely breathing,

I was alone in the valley,

Yearning, searching,

Longing for something,

This is so far from being alluring.



Words and speech slur,

Dreams and visions become a blur,

No one cares—


no one…

I know I’ve been left all alone.



It’s better this way in isolation,

An unwanted friend came who’s called “Depression”,

Made me sulk in the corners of my very heart,

But alas!

I have found solace in the dark…

Dream Wedding

I don’t know how it would feel,

How I would look—

I don’t know exactly,

Because it’s just here all in my head.

I don’t know when it becomes real,

How much it would differ from the books.


I’ve seen several weddings before.

A man and a woman so deeply in love,

People I personally know, while some I do not,

Decide to spend a new chapter of their lives.

Till death do them part,

Spending the rest of their days

In each other’s embrace.


And wedding after wedding

that I’ve been able to witness,

I cannot help but wonder,

When is mine gonna happen?


Will there be a brave man

Who will be valiant enough

To pop the golden question to me,

“Please, will you be my wife?”


And just thinking of it

Brings tears to my eyes.

Why, you may ask?

It’s because I’ve got two things in mind.

It’s either it would happen


it would not…

The former is glorious.

The latter, glorious still,

but with a different form.


So I sit here, my pen does the talking,

My heart does the thumping,

And my mind does the thinking.


I see butterflies flying,

Flowers gracefully scattered on the floor,

The smiling faces of people…


I see myself in a delicate,


white dress…


… But…


Who could he be?

How does he look like?



Or does he only exist in my dreams?

Do Not Say You Love Me If You Think You’ll Change Your Mind


Got into me, had to share. :)

Originally posted on The Fickle Heartbeat:


A beautiful feature post by Single Strides.

Love has been taken for granted. We flaunt it and we damage it on so many more platforms than our hearts. We let the words fall off of our tongues and explode hearts like bombs, but then we try to sweep it under the rug and ignore the permanent mess that it has made.

We take it as seriously as we take traffic rules, but we don’t realize the risk we’re taking with others’ lives. We pretend and live as actors in a scene that is bound to break at intermission. But don’t you want your happy ending?

We go through relationships just to pass the time. We date around just for the hell of it. We sleep around just for fun. We marry and we divorce. We scatter broken hearts across the world and leave it to others to clean up…

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I’m Living Proof That Constant Nagging Will Ruin Your Child’s Future Relationships


Note To Self

Originally posted on Thought Catalog:

Flickr / VarvaraFlickr / Varvara

If the Olympic games offered nagging as a competitive sport, my mother would take the gold, silver and bronze. In fact, if there were a lifetime achievement award for this time-honed skill, I’m sure she’d snag that too because no one deserves the title, ‘Nag of the Century’ quite like my mom does. When it comes to nagging—the polar opposite of effective communication — she’s the CEO of the entire operation.

My earliest and sharpest memory of her screeching, harpy nagging ability took place in a Japanese restaurant in New York City. Those were the days when chic urban sushi places didn’t exist and Japanese restaurants were these very quiet, dark, elegant places where patrons tried the exotic dishes of the day, none of which were served raw. Still, the vibe of the place was stoic; soft koto music in the background, kimono-clad wait staff and that…

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Bangungot Habang Gising

Mistulang masamang panaginip…

Ang mga alaalang ubod-pait ay bigla nalang bumalong na parang bukal na di natutuyuan ng tubig.

Ano’ng nangyari? Ilang taon na nga ba ang lumipas?

Bakit ngayon, sa loob ng apat na sulok ng aking silid, ay nalasahan kong muli ang mapaklang mga katotohanan na akala ko’y naibaon ko na sa limot?


Dahil hindi pa pala…

Alas-dos ng madaling araw ngayon, at nakaramdam ako ng hapdi.

Isa-isang sumulpot sa aking isipan ang mga pangyayaring yaon, tatlong taon mahigit na ang nakararaan.

Yaong pinagdaanan kong hirap. Grabe. Natagpos ko iyon? Salamat na lamang sa Diyos.

Nung mga panahong iyon, di ko lubos maisip kung kailan hihinto ang bangungot ko habang gising.

Mahaba-haba na rin naman ang ipinagpahinga ng masasamang panaginip. Ilang daang araw na rin ang nagsalitan mula sa liwanag patungong dilim, at liwanag muli.

Nakalimot na ako sa aking pagkakaalam.

Maliban ngayon…

Maaaring hindi na ganun kasakit.

Ngunit mahapdi pa rin.

Naramdaman kong muli na tila ba napunit ang aking dibdib. Sinabi ko na ngang mahapdi, hindi ba?

Parang sugat na nabudburan ng iilang piraso lamang ng asin.

Parang gusto mong biglang buhusan ng tubig upang mahugasan. Upang mapawi na ang hapdi.

Isa lang ang sagot.

Huwag na muling mag-isip.

Muling humukay ng mas malalim ng kaunti, para muling ibaon sa limot ang sakit na nanggaling sa kahapon.

Matagal na nga. Ilang oras at buwan na nga ang lumipas.

Ilang pilas na rin ng kalendaryo ang naganap.


May hapdi pa rin…

At ayaw ko na nito.

Bangungot? Katotohanan?

Lubayan mo na muna ako at ayaw kitang maramdaman…

Rainy Twentieth of August

~Reblogging from Facebook, August 20, 2013~

I will not be a hypocrite and must admit that there were times that I hated the rainy days.

I hate it when I’m on the road and the skies suddenly decide to do an ambush attack.

I hate it when I’m still inside the office and just 5-10 minutes before the end of office hours, gazillion giant raindrops would do their merry-making. Talk about perfect timing, huh? And oftentimes, I mull over the fact that I have to dip my feet in the cold, dirty water that has flooded the streets. I do mind the organisms lurking and swimming freely in the flood but I am left with no choice but to walk in it lest I will not be able to go home. Plus the traffic! Geeez!

But today, with this kind of weather, I had the chance to ponder. Not all day, the heavens were raging. There were these “quiet moments” wherein I appreciated the sound of raindrops. Each drop had its own tone, each had its own volume, its own intensity and dynamics…

Could it be….? I thought to myself…

Could it really be that this is heaven’s or nature’s way of worshipping God or exalting His name or making music for Him?…

Could it be that we do not recognize it as such because we, humans, speak a different language, and have polluted the home that was entrusted to us that’s why it cannot process and respond “rightly ” in the present time as it did a hundred or a thousand years ago?

All along we have blamed the storms and the rains, when we should have pointed our fingers towards us. Why these calamities? Why these floods? Why those lives lost?

We kept on questioning when all these time, we carry the answers right within us…

On the other hand, I admire the rain… It has always been consistent.

How I pray I could always worship like that, if that’s really one of the things it does—

totally abandoned,

Losing my mind, you say?

Perhaps not.