The Benefits of Oregano
Oregano (Scientific name: Origanum vulgare) is also known as Wild Marjoram, Mountain Mint, Origanum, Wintersweet and Winter Marjoram.
Hand of Hope: Samuel Alexander Armas
A picture began circulating in November. It should be "The Picture of the Year," or perhaps, "Picture of the Decade." It won't be. In fact, unless you obtained a copy of the paper, you probably will never see it.
Tracey Connelley, Baby P's Evil Mom, Shows NO Remorse
I have never been affected by any story as much as Baby P's story has affected me. Yesterday evening, I found myself sobbing twice! I just can't get over the sheer horror of the story.
Baby P's Murderers -- Why Are They Being Protected?
In my country, it has never happened before that the media and the people have been forbidden to actually reveal the names and faces of TC and SB, the murderers of Baby P.
That Winter The Wind Blows Finale: Did Oh Soo Die?
Over the holy week break, I spent the entire four days just watching the 15 episodes of this Korean show. Yes, I am a self-confessed Korean drama addict. I already have my favorite actors and actresses; albeit, I don’t know their names.
Sep 18, 2014
Pluviophile
4:27 am
It's raining really hard.
I opened up the window to greet the rain and fallen leaves came blowing in.
I don't know why that makes me happy.
I don't know why rain makes me happy.
But it does.
I found a word to describe me - a pluviophile.
Pluviophile. (n) a lover of rain; someone who finds joy and peace of mind during rainy days.
Apparently, there are a lot of people like me out there.
Well, isn't that nice? 😊
Sep 8, 2014
Jul 10, 2014
Going Through Hell
I'm so pissed at everything right now.
I'm so stressed out and with so many things stressing me out - I don't know what's causing the crying bouts. God, my eyes are so freaking clean from all the crying I've been doing.
I feel -
Angry.
Seriously pissed.
Irritated.
Resigned.
Worried.
Scared.
Angry.
Mostly angry.
Afraid.
Tired.
Exhausted.
Worn out.
Confused.
Afraid.
Consumed.
Sad.
Depressed.
I'm not okay. I hate going through this hell.
Jul 6, 2014
I Just Want to Rant
Jesus H. Christ! My stress levels have reached their all time high. I just want to scream and scream and never stop screaming.
This is hell. This is pure unadulterated fucking hell. I can't wait for all this to be over but then the waiting starts... I don't what's worse - this or that.
At least I'll have work and money while waiting. The absence of income and this feeling of financial impotence are stressing me out much more than the nonstop studying. I feel like I'm about to explode. Just bloody explode. God.
I am just so fucking tired of this.
May 5, 2014
Just Let Go
At some point, you have to let go. You have to stop.
These words have become my mantra. Ironically, I can’t seem to just let go. It’s emotionally exhausting and mentally draining. I really should just let go. This thing is weighing me down. It has taken over my conscious thoughts. Why can’t I just let this go?
It’s taking too much. It’s like this greedy insatiable monster that devours happiness and peace of mind. And I feed it incessantly.
I have to just let go. It’s easy.
I just need to start.
And for the nth time, that is what I am going to do.
May 2, 2014
I Need to Blog Coz Life Sucks
Erbe found him lying on the floor because he was so weak, he collapsed on the floor. He didnt have the strength to get up or cry for help.
I've been wondering why I feel so sad. I've gotten so used to worrying that it has become a part of me. And then it hit me, I started hoping he'd get better when I saw him up and about the last few days. I really thought he'd get better and then the fever appeared again. And then Erbe saw him lying there this morning. And here I am a mess again. I can't even study. I hate this.
We've been told to just accept the inevitable. Fuck that.
Someone told me to shower him with I love you's. I dont want to do that. It's like I'm conceding and letting go. Fuck that.
Apr 4, 2014
Mar 21, 2014
When Love Comes Knocking
Judith McNaught was wrong.
If I only knew how wrong she was, I would have stopped reading her books before I met Love.
Maybe then I would have really known what not to expect
And to see Love as he really was the first time I met him.
Love did not have large muscles, long flowing black hair and a Scottish accent.
What Love had was a curly hair, wide mouth, large ears, small eyes and teeth gaps.
Those romance books and their cursed authors – they are flagrant liars.
Because when Love came, I didn’t know what to do.
I called Love my best friend and he called me his.
I helped Love with his own heart ache while crying over mine,
Because Love, although I knew it was him, didn’t see me.
Love was honest with me. He didn’t lead me on.
He was there for me in so many ways, but not in the way I wanted Love to be.
I faked so many illnesses that Senior Year in High School just so I can avoid school.
“Yes, it’s another diarrhea.
Yes, I know I’ve just had it the other day,
but yes, I have it again today.
I swear I’m not lying.”
But I was lying. I had to lie over and over again, so I can avoid seeing Love.
Because seeing Love, whose eyes reflect nothing but friendship, was too painful for a 16-year-old heart.
Over the years, Love came in many shapes and forms,
He came with a long hair and a mean skill for playing the bass guitar.
Love was childish and immature; and he had poor spelling skills.
Love spelled feelings with the letters f-e-l-l-i-n-g-s.
Love was an idiot.
But I, I read every word of that letter like they were my last drop of water, last breath of air.
At one time, Love was a childhood best friend’s brother who didn’t like me while growing up.
That Love looked at me when I turned 18, saw me and has never stopped looking.
Love came in different intensity; and once, it reappeared with such force, I barely recognized it.
Love, this time, came at first sight.
Love was a friend who would talk to me ‘til 1 in the morning.
Love understood me. He spoke the same language. He cursed a lot – fuck, shit, damn – but Love didn’t misspell any word.
Love wanted so much for himself. Love was a dreamer, and so he vanished, leaving his ghost behind.
There are too many clichés for this Love.
Love at first sight.
The one who got away.
The one great love.
All true, all true, for this Love’s cursed ghost has never left, always clinging, always taunting.
I was left seeking Love, always comparing, always wanting, always longing.
Until Real Love came along.
But this Love was not easy.
In hindsight, Love would have scared the shit out of me.
If I had known then what l learned later on, I would have run like a thousand hungry ferocious dogs were running after me.
Love devoured me, trapped me.
But ironically, Love was real.
Love had soft brown eyes that never fail to say, “I love you. You are beautiful” .
Love believes, persists, tolerates, forgives and adores.
Love, this time, was comfort, home, happiness, contentment, family.
When you’re hardly ready for it, Love pounds on your door insistently.
You’d be surprised to see who stands there once you find the courage to open the door.
Sometimes, Love enters stealthily. You hardly know it’s there until it’s too late.
Until you find yourself devouring gallons of ice-cream, watching old reruns, crying your heart out and driving yourself insane.
Love can be an old friend or a new one.
Love can be from New York City or California.
Love may come when you’re not ready for it or when it’s not supposed to come.
Love may be a bastard who would taunt you and play with your emotions.
Maybe Love hasn’t arrived yet and is still waiting for you.
Maybe you’re not supposed to find Love, maybe it’s meant to find you.
Maybe Love is meant to last for three months,
Or maybe it’s meant to last forever.
Maybe Love was not meant to grow.
Maybe it’s not meant to stay.
Maybe Love would want you to take risks and damn the consequences.
Maybe Love is meant to be confessed.
Maybe it is meant to be a secret.
Love comes when you least expect it to.
And for the time it is with you, it will change you.
Love will change you in so many ways that you will hardly recognize yourself.
And just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, love leaves.
To a lucky few, Love stays. It grows, it expands like a balloon that never fails to run out of gas.
But for everyone, Love comes and for a little while it stays.
And for that little while, you’re happy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
my version of When Love Arrives by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye
If I only knew how wrong she was, I would have stopped reading her books before I met Love.
Maybe then I would have really known what not to expect
And to see Love as he really was the first time I met him.
Love did not have large muscles, long flowing black hair and a Scottish accent.
What Love had was a curly hair, wide mouth, large ears, small eyes and teeth gaps.
Those romance books and their cursed authors – they are flagrant liars.
Because when Love came, I didn’t know what to do.
I called Love my best friend and he called me his.
I helped Love with his own heart ache while crying over mine,
Because Love, although I knew it was him, didn’t see me.
Love was honest with me. He didn’t lead me on.
He was there for me in so many ways, but not in the way I wanted Love to be.
I faked so many illnesses that Senior Year in High School just so I can avoid school.
“Yes, it’s another diarrhea.
Yes, I know I’ve just had it the other day,
but yes, I have it again today.
I swear I’m not lying.”
But I was lying. I had to lie over and over again, so I can avoid seeing Love.
Because seeing Love, whose eyes reflect nothing but friendship, was too painful for a 16-year-old heart.
Over the years, Love came in many shapes and forms,
He came with a long hair and a mean skill for playing the bass guitar.
Love was childish and immature; and he had poor spelling skills.
Love spelled feelings with the letters f-e-l-l-i-n-g-s.
Love was an idiot.
But I, I read every word of that letter like they were my last drop of water, last breath of air.
At one time, Love was a childhood best friend’s brother who didn’t like me while growing up.
That Love looked at me when I turned 18, saw me and has never stopped looking.
Love came in different intensity; and once, it reappeared with such force, I barely recognized it.
Love, this time, came at first sight.
Love was a friend who would talk to me ‘til 1 in the morning.
Love understood me. He spoke the same language. He cursed a lot – fuck, shit, damn – but Love didn’t misspell any word.
Love wanted so much for himself. Love was a dreamer, and so he vanished, leaving his ghost behind.
There are too many clichés for this Love.
Love at first sight.
The one who got away.
The one great love.
All true, all true, for this Love’s cursed ghost has never left, always clinging, always taunting.
I was left seeking Love, always comparing, always wanting, always longing.
Until Real Love came along.
But this Love was not easy.
In hindsight, Love would have scared the shit out of me.
If I had known then what l learned later on, I would have run like a thousand hungry ferocious dogs were running after me.
Love devoured me, trapped me.
But ironically, Love was real.
Love had soft brown eyes that never fail to say, “I love you. You are beautiful” .
Love believes, persists, tolerates, forgives and adores.
Love, this time, was comfort, home, happiness, contentment, family.
When you’re hardly ready for it, Love pounds on your door insistently.
You’d be surprised to see who stands there once you find the courage to open the door.
Sometimes, Love enters stealthily. You hardly know it’s there until it’s too late.
Until you find yourself devouring gallons of ice-cream, watching old reruns, crying your heart out and driving yourself insane.
Love can be an old friend or a new one.
Love can be from New York City or California.
Love may come when you’re not ready for it or when it’s not supposed to come.
Love may be a bastard who would taunt you and play with your emotions.
Maybe Love hasn’t arrived yet and is still waiting for you.
Maybe you’re not supposed to find Love, maybe it’s meant to find you.
Maybe Love is meant to last for three months,
Or maybe it’s meant to last forever.
Maybe Love was not meant to grow.
Maybe it’s not meant to stay.
Maybe Love would want you to take risks and damn the consequences.
Maybe Love is meant to be confessed.
Maybe it is meant to be a secret.
Love comes when you least expect it to.
And for the time it is with you, it will change you.
Love will change you in so many ways that you will hardly recognize yourself.
And just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, love leaves.
To a lucky few, Love stays. It grows, it expands like a balloon that never fails to run out of gas.
But for everyone, Love comes and for a little while it stays.
And for that little while, you’re happy.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
my version of When Love Arrives by Sarah Kay and Phil Kaye
Mar 12, 2014
Finally, I Write
It’s the 9th day. He has been in the hospital for 9 days now – and still, he’s not getting better. Hematuria is gone. That’s one good thing at least, but the fever, it comes and goes. For a few hours or so, we’d be hopeful that he won’t have a fever again and we’d be able to go home and then the chills will start and his temperature will start climbing.
We’ve been through several doctors now. Completed all kinds of laboratory exams, some repeated several times. It’s driving me insane. It’s driving my sister insane. She has been jumping from one possibility to another, one conclusion to another. We have been crying – and my mom won’t leave his side. She doesn’t want to. And we’re worried about her because she, too, has her own set of medical complaints.
I am going insane.
I have my own set of issues. I am bogged down by other concerns. I so need a break. I am losing it. I am experiencing bouts of crying and I only get reprieve from watching sitcoms one after another – and when I’ve exhausted them all, I find myself crying over a bowl of noodles. God, I need a break.
I pray he’d get better soon. No, not soon. Right now. Please Lord, make him better now.
I hope to feel better soon. I hope to forget. I hope the heaviness in my chest will go away and the pain in my stomach will abate soon. I don’t want this. I don’t like this. I hate this.
Life sucks right now. It really does.
Mar 3, 2014
Feb 21, 2014
A Letter to My Heartbroken Friend
Let me start by saying I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you the other day. You have been putting up such a good front that I tend to forget the truth sometimes. I thought of forwarding another quotation, something that could provide you a little comfort, but I thought, what the hell, I should just write you a letter, something that you can read when you need a little love…a little comfort.
Love sucks. Let just get that out of the way because right now, that’s the truth. Raw love can blindside you and it’s not so easy to turn off. The raw heartache can be debilitating. I know that. This is why you continue to amaze me. You haven’t resorted to eating Pringles and crying your way through the Notebook and other sappy movies. And except for those “5-second heartache” you probably experience throughout the day, you’ve managed to put on a huge smile and live life and damn anyone who thinks you’re miserable. If you haven’t been painfully honest with me, you could have fooled me as well.
You probably hate the question, “Are you okay?” It forces you to acknowledge the truth to yourself and lie through your teeth. I want you to know, you won’t have to lie to me. I know you’re not okay – and it’s okay. I don’t really care that you think your tears are irrational and that your pain nonsensical. They’re valid. They’re yours. They matter.
I know how much it hurts. I remember how it’s like to get your heart broken. I remember how rejection feels like. I remember how it’s like to feel like you’ve lost your heart..like it had been ripped away by the same person who wanted no part of it. I understand, so I wouldn’t care if it takes you forever to find your peace. I don’t care if you are sad or lost. I will stay up and talk to you until 4 AM…Hell, I’ll stay up with you the whole night if you want me to! The thing is, I’m here for you. No matter what. Please don’t ever think otherwise.
For now, I will tell you he doesn’t deserve you – because he truly doesn’t. He’s an idiot for not seeing you. I will tell you everything will be okay. A year from now, two, three…we will laugh about this. And you will forget. You will forget everything that is causing you so much pain now. Or maybe you won’t. It wouldn’t matter because you would love again and you would be incredibly happy. I know that because in my heart I know you deserve that. You deserve love and happiness. You’ll have those two beautiful girls. Someday, you will.
I love you. I’m sorry you’re in pain. You’ll find peace in time. The hurt would stop eventually. So, take your time. It’s okay.
Feb 15, 2014
Jan 24, 2014
Random Thoughts at 2:22 AM
I’ve lost my ability to think fast…
In fact, I’ve lost my ability to think at all. I see words and they come rushing to me, like an impending train, perfectly designed to crash. One word blurs against another and I find myself struggling to understand the excruciating meaning of every sentence, every paragraph.
I’m losing control and I hate it.
I am tethering, struggling to maintain balance. It seems like I am consumed with trying to exact control and trying to find my ground.
It’s my last day of work tomorrow. I hate the idea of not earning a single cent. I don’t actually know how many buckets of tears I’ve cried over these seemingly simple decisions. To do or not to do. I am so over my head.
I feel like I’ve lost molecules of my brain. When did I lose faith in my self? I am scared and I am drowning myself in meaningless pursuits and momentary emotions.
I am trying to make sense of things. It seems like I am dealing with a deluge of questions and moral dilemma. I knew of black and white, and I always knew there were shades of grey there somewhere. What I didn’t realize is that gray can be considerably tricky. Gray can fuck with your head. But Christ, gray feels good. Gray makes you forget. Gray stares at ennui in the eye and shoots it to kingdom come. But Gray will be the death of me.
Puzzles. Yes, I know. I am talking in riddles. I mean to. How can I make you understand when I don’t even understand myself? Something has taken root in me, but I have yet to identify it. I have not yet named it. It has not revealed itself to me. However, I know I need to wait for it to stay still and end it. I can’t let it live. I can’t let it grow. It’s not meant to take deeper root. It will drive me insane. I am not ready to lose to it.
There are questions I need to answer. Supposedly. But I think I’d rather not. There is no point unearthing what needs to lie still.
Jan 22, 2014
Jan 18, 2014
Back on the Hamster Wheel
It is starting all over again.
That stupid nightmare.
I feel like a freaking hamster, running on that wheel, going nowhere, just desperately running and scrambling for dear life!
Like a hamster, hoping it can get off. But no matter how much I run, I keep going back to the same place, ending up in the same place.
I am hoping I could outrun all these fucked up emotions.
I checked once. twice.
Turned it off and on.
Checked again in case it was on silent mode.
I hate that. I hate checking. I hate waiting.
I hate all the freakish emotions.
I should not have started this again.
I was already in a good place. I was happy. I was at peace. My mind was at peace, so was my heart. I knew where I belong. I knew where I should be. I want that. Desperately.
I should just let it go. This is really confusing the hell out of me.
I am going to let this go.
Jan 15, 2014
Selfie Entry #NotEverEnding
Stressed. Sleepy all the effin' time! I have black circles around my eyes and breakouts. I can feel wrinkles literally appearing on my face.
This is what I have yet to finish for this month.
*sigh*
Why am I doing this again?
Jan 13, 2014
Sleepyhead
For the life of me, I can't get my eyes to open long enough to read. I'm sleepy all the time - and to think, I've downed 5 cups of coffee today! :(
Erbe took this picture of me while I was "just closing my eyes". It took me more than an hour to open them again.
I'm screwed.
2:54 AM
My 4th cup - no, 1st. After all. This is a new day.
It's the 13th of the month.
13th already.
Time flies so fast and I'm battling with time right now. I am not there yet - emotionally, mentally, but spiritually? Oh I'm there! God must be so happy with me. He has never seen me this often in Church for the past 6 years.
I still feel like crap. Recent events still affect me as much as I hope they wouldn't. I really don't like dealing with an amoral douche. Turned out that is exactly what I was dealing with. Seriously! What's a couple of months?! So freaking weird. So wrong in so many levels. And I can't even do anything about it?! I'm stuck and I can't say anything without gutting myself as well. Oh, well. I made my bed, I should sleep on it. And sleep I'll do now - literally. It's 3 in the morning and I have work tomorrow.
Why the hell are you still reading my blog by the way?!
Jan 12, 2014
01.11.2014
It was a good day. Oh it didn’t start out so well, but I like how it ended.
I was forced by someone to do something that I wasn’t ready to do – that I wasn’t willing to do. Curiously enough, once I’ve accepted that it’s done – it didn’t bother me anymore. It’s like I never cared all along and in fact, I am wondering what the fvck the fuss was all about? But then again, I have years of experience of shutting off emotions.
When I was a kid, I used to cry buckets every time my mother would leave us to go back to Brunei. My sister was so young then. She didn’t actually realize what was happening. This went on for years. Until she finally started crying too. And once she did, I stopped crying. I figured, I needed to be strong for her. My father always left with our mother, so we had no one to turn to – and she had no one to turn to, but me. So, I stopped crying. I just shut off every emotion. It was like I didn’t care. I did this, so I could comfort her. I did this for years until it became easy for me to shut off emotions when I want to. This is why I actually never spent weeks or days crying over exes because of breakups. I just shut off emotions, gave them the major “f-u” in my head and moved on. Oh, I love all the messy drama of emotions and feelings. I revel in them. I enjoy them. I squeeze everything out of them, but once I decide, enough is enough. Then I just shut the damn emotions off and I.don’t.care.
Just like that.
So, I guess this is what happened. Or maybe I really just didn’t care enough and I was just reveling in emotions that simply weren’t true. I do that sometimes. I enjoy the drama, you see.
Or maybe I was just bored and for a brief moment, I was not. Don’t you sometimes long for something different to happen, something so new and exciting it carries you along with it like a great tide, something that lets your life blaze and burn so the whole world can see it?
I think that’s what happened, and then the tide went back to sea. And the blaze died down. I actually do not care. I just miss the blaze. But then again, there’s always the silent comfort brought about by burnt coals. It’s not too hot, but it’s warm enough. It’s silent, strong and enduring.
Jan 10, 2014
One-Eyed Stressed Earthling
Been so stressed!
And unhappy.
But things seem to be working out.
Now, I just have to focus and avoid distractions. I can do this!
Jan 7, 2014
A Good Day
Despite the fact that I'm all cooped up inside this room, I like the fact that I can just look out the window and stare at the blue, blue skies.
It was a good morning.
New Year Burns
It hurt like hell, but now it's much better.
Yes, it still looks awful but I swear, it's much better.
Jan 6, 2014
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