Truth: Unmetered

Don’t let it out just yet.

Don’t let it out hastily.

Lay the groundwork, gather the nest.

In preparing your haven is safe.

And don’t be deceived. It will not always mean peace. People are evil, they are jealous. They are violent, loud and unbelieving.

As it may come out like a storm, you have to fortify your surroundings before deciding for some blow.

Choose your method, don’t be some fool. Don’t make a fun out of yourself.

Be tactful and wise.

Don’t hurt yourself. Pray before anything else.

In praying, all the best will come to you.

But in the end, truth will set you free.


At almost 11 months, my daughter, Denisse, is able to walk! She can already take more than three steps, putting alternately her right foot and left foot forward.

I was amazed that my child has already reached this milestone and I could not help but be astonished at how my little one carries herself around the space where she can ambulate.

Being able to walk—is this just some ordinary event in our lives?

Just this year I was put or rather I put myself in a difficult position where I believe I literally was not able to walk properly. Thanks to the help of my sisters and parents who helped me regain the balance that I lost.

These recent events in my life led me to believe that how we walk signifies a lot about us. Walking properly means having a certain amount of physiological, mental, emotional and psychological wellbeing.

If possible we should never incapacitate ourselves with this ability even just once because losing it could mean a lifelong loss of confidence to walk the way we did before ever again.

Being able to walk is more than just an ordinary part of our lives and always taking the courage to do it properly is quiet challenging at times. Perhaps it is one of the things that we need to reevaluate and reexamine now and again in order to maintain the reputation that we wish to keep. Of course, all the other factors come along with it.


Here in the dark. Waiting for time to drag me into the light. You whom I’ve been waiting for has become a variable, not a constant. I’m beginning to enjoy life on what it brings… Different days, different terms, different years… People. Me.


One of the worst things you can give to someone is not a smack or box in the face but the negativity that you would have otherwise left in your own musings.

The above picture is a photo of my profile picture change which I initiated a day before my period came and you would deduce that something unpleasant must have happened to me but in truth may not be that unpleasant as compared to what it really was. As ladies, you would be able to relate to how mood changes prior to the onset of this ‘thing’ dominate ones atmosphere.

But maybe each should try her best to keep in mind that what one does has a significant impact on other people most especially family and close acquaintances and it does not give a girl any right to shake other people’s peace of mind most especially during this trying times.

Therefore, I am imposing some self regulating behavior that would lessen this bothersome habit of mine. Just something that would inspire rather than give despair to others.

I hope I can influence you to do the same.


Just today, I’ve collected another piece of myself preserved thru the scrapbook of my younger sister. How I forgot all about my dreams and aspirations. I thank my Dear God for bringing me yet again another precious keepsake. I harbored the scrapbook from my ading. I told her I wish to keep what she made back in her college days.

Sharing to you the pictures. Letters are faded. Pictures are blurred. But the memento comes to play some vivid essence in my heart.


Nope! It’s just a cheat title but yeah has some significance to what I want to say. Just that I’ve been feeling down and not very optimistic over the past hours and so I was just trying to do what I have to do, encoding equations for my Math modules, browsing this and that in hope of bitsy bits. I was mindlessly reading my emails from top to bottom, middle to top, then down again and over and over, when I came across this blog article, Be Kind, Be Inspired, by a favorite local writer. The last part goes…

“Maybe if I knew music, I’d create. Or if I knew art, I’d Cezanne myself my own “Boy in the Red Vest”. But no. So I must write. I must revive the appetite for searching things which are beautiful and be compelled to imprint them in words. To remind myself that humanity is interesting and thus I ought to be kinder. And that every sunset is different from the one yesterday and that I ought to be inspired.”

It rekindled the small fire I always have within me which is every so often almost extinguished by my own windiness.

I need to remind myself over and over that I have already trudged the path I was so willing to take that looking back is not an option just yet. I have to get the answer for my quest of the unknown and that I have to go there, to the destination I so wanted to arrive at. Thus, I ought to be inspired to keep going whatever the odds may be.

And yes, I’m asking the self to forgive that other for always being the skeptic and cynic about almost everything.

So long for the end of this journey (if one gets what I mean, whatever that is).

P.S. That favorite local writer is also an aspiring baker. You may check her site at this address:

How many more women are like her?

Shall we divulge to the world? She is not happy with her life right now, and will you believe it? I suppose she’s the one at fault for choosing all the wrong things at the wrong times.

She complains. A lot! Why is she doing all the house chores when she should be in her desk just writing her life away… Away from the world, from the hustles of the city.

But what can she do? She is a mother of three kids. Did she make the wrong decision of marrying at a young age and not being able to realize her dreams before being exposed to the hazards of a married life, of an adult life?

Something was amiss and still is to these days but even she knew it all along. The time passes, the years go by. One by one, as she sat there, frozen. Frozen to her own musings, lamentations, and reflections. ‘What if’ was not the word she chose. Instead, she fancied all good books, the lore and the stories of the world.

Nobody understood. Nobody cared. Or maybe she maintains it that way even if there were people who knew. Putting a distance to whoever wishes to poke into her mind, her world, her uncertainties.

Was she just too weak and ignorant to be trying something to fix her life? She has no answer to that. She just prays, and prayerful as she is she finds solace into the things that she asks. ‘Just a pen and some paper’ would do. That was the answer to all her prayers.

And on and on she goes, into the deep… Into the thoughts of the messed up mind. She discovers the complexity of her simplicity or the other way around.

How many more could be like her? She wonders…

What is there to hesitate about?

I just realized how unready I am to share my thoughts to the world. The constant battle of my ideal side with my unorganized, messed up, and sulky self leads up to my indecisiveness. And although I know what to write about, I come up with nothing but deleted drafts and unpublished posts. I thought I was ready to take on this newfound hobby but there is more to recognize than just the lack of talent or skill.

You have to have the willingness to share whatever you have with your readers. Otherwise you won’t have anything to write about. One should be diligent enough to walk someone thru something. If not, be open and honest to feelings and thoughts. It really is terrible to show up and have nothing to say. Still the courage to show up is admirable. And I have to at least congratulate myself for doing so. Okay, yes, I know, I know, that we should not perceive this as a chore at all so as not to scare any inspiration away but I already chose this so what is there to hesitate about?