Category Archives: Uncategorized

November 6, 2021
I watched this movie a few days before writing this one. It was hilarious and funny yet serious and mischievous. I would say women can be extreme. And whoever said that men are genius have never interacted closely with women in their life. Anne, the queen, was portrayed perfectly. The acting was superb. But what i applaud is how the movie wrapped. It ended vaguely but truthfully. Sarah was the one truly in love with Anne. She recalled in the few last scenes how she told anne the latter looked like a badger. And she was right. She did not lie. And that's love. She cared for anne's health by not allowing anne to eat sweets. While sarah was loving anne romantically, anne craved for something impulsive. And that was when abigail took her chance. Abigail knew something was on the rocks and she took advantage of it. She was on the surface kind and sweet and gentle. Beneath her was a cruel and a heartless bitch who only wants power. Anne fell for abigail's youth, charm, and gentleness not knowing she was a hoax. In the final scene when it seemed abigail won and sarah was banished from england, abigail stepped on anne's rabbits forcefully and playfully until the animal squinted which caught queen anne's attention. It was then that the queen knew she trapped herself in a hell with abigail who only took advantage of her power to gain hers. And for the last time in the movie, she asked abigail to "rub her legs" and held her head with force groping her hair. It was when abigail knew she fucked up and she as well locked herself in the hell she created. An activity that was once impulsive and mostly erotic now has become a cold duty and an order she had to obey. The three women were imprisoned in their own hell.
And i think that's why this movie is brilliant because it showcased how women can build things single-handedly and can destroy in one blink. It showed how women, even without power, are very powerful. 

You think you know better.

And then you don't.

Friends were breathing diaries decorated in daisies
That turned out to be playboy magazines feasted by eager men with eagerness of gossip

Lovers were warm as wrapped blankets on shivering nights
And then pillow talk motives crush you to pillow hug moments after a  fight

Life was a crowd of drunken high in colored lights at seventeen
And twenty-two comes you simply discover nightmares are your regular dreams.

I got blocked on facebook. Damn.
I thought you found my poems cute.

I am glad I took screenshots of your sweet messages for me back then. Like, they were fresh screenshots. Those were during THE moment. Your profile picture was different. My phone was different. The vibes were different. You really are my TOTGA.

It just hurts me to the core that when I truly confessed to you through my message in a bottle, you then became different. You swayed away from me as if you never felt the same way. Because I really thought you did. We once did years ago and I thought you have been reminiscing those feelings too. We were intimate. I liked you and I thought you liked me back and you liked me still. 

Had I not told you how I truly felt maybe things may have gone differently. Sometimes there is a pinch of regret that I became too brave to tell you. Sometimes I feel it was worth it because then I knew how you would react. But fuck that was so brief. And grieving. I was devoted to you all these years and all we had was a moment. Not even one percent of the moment. 

When we were younger we shared these feelings together but because of our youth we were reckless. Six years later we had the chance to converse but wow how great was the timing. What a moment! I mean, I really thought that was our chance. I thought that was our time. But I just thought. Maybe it was a sign that I should stop. That growth had changed us , or you. 

You were the muse to my inkwell. My poems flow freely when it's about you. Words were easier to write and love was hardly a stranger. 

I really believed you remember it all. 
I know you remember it all. 
Because if you didn't, why would you care to keep me out?

Remember when we were teammates
On the chasing game you would be caught
And i purposely would too so I could hold your hand
Id say "Hold on tight to me so we'll be saved."
Remember when you dont wanna be the prince charming
Because i was the class president
Or do you recall when we both have rackets and shuttlecocks
Trained and represented our school in yellow shirts
Im pretty sure you remember that I gifted you something i think was a wallet with a picture of a younger me
Or do you remember the night during a power outage
Sixth grade and on my math review under a lamp with moths
You texted "I had a crush on you since 4th grade"
Or maybe the one during a trip when you were the first one to own a varsity jacket
Second one being me among the class
Maybe you remembered when 2020 you commented on my newly uploaded profile photo
Saying it reminded you of my earlier face on the picture in the wallet i gave you
And hinted that you gave me something too
Just between us
Do you?
Remember?
Because I do.

the highway was wider than it used to be. the houses on the side of the road were gone. there are more neighbors now than before. concrete houses erected on what was once a green field. establishments on the way to be finished. few parks repainted. trees cut down but some new ones grew. and most people unrecognizable.

three summers have gone by. i spend wandering around trying to tame my fate in these trying times. i opened new pages, listened to the latest songs, travelled to different places, met new people, ate strange foods, watched rumors fly, heard people died, and i don’t know, witness myself become weary?

growing up is so old. and i’m stuck with it. with things like, i should gain more weight, or be more friendly, or talk more to people, or open myself to others, or go out often, or grow your hair longer. and with things like ‘look after yourself’, or ‘never be indecisive’, or ‘save better’, or ‘spend wiser’, or ‘eat healthier’ or ‘be careful with love’, or even ‘just don’t have a boyfriend yet.’

when i was loud, they told me i was so loud. when i was quiet, they said i was failing. when i spoke again, they confirmed i was loud.

i think the greatest paradox that i possess is how i hate people tell me what to do while i do things they say i should do.

and in this corner three summers after, i am here – at a place where i feel home but unwelcome. some of my classmates had gone married, some have children, some are obscured in my memory, others i still don’t know the name.

after all of the things that i have been served with on my table, i am still the same. dreaming of being carefree, acting to be careful, but is always careless.

now that i have not changed the way you expected me to, what now?

am i offended?

affected?

do i take it personally?

or will i just be a prisoner again to expectations i cannot live by?

but why am i like this?

i think.

i just think that i was so used to approval and recognition that i think that was everything i have to hold so people will take notice of me. like a person on a deserted island waving a red flag but it’s actually a golden color when you look closer.

i think that maybe i shouldn’t stop caring about myself and stop caring about other people’s opinions on me. it brings me clouds of grey and a rainfall of tears brought about by seasonal depression.

now that am i here, and most of you are unrecognizable, why would i care?

i see senior highs graduating today.

it was nice, inspiring, and heart-warming seeing them with head high up.

the ambitions they are saying, the words they are posting.

these things are worth to be appreciated.

i remembered very well how i was at that moment in my life.

exactly the same as they are feeling now.

joy, pride, and hope.

i could vividly picture how i was jubilant that day. i knew my dreams were slowly becoming into reality. my plans going into their ways.

my hopes were as high as snoop d o double g.

i went to the stage and delivered my speech thanking every person that helped me and us in finishing high school.

the moment of receiving the diploma and shaking hands with division superintendent.

the pictures taken with bright smiles wearing the white toga.

our necks full of medals, and garlands made of flowers, candies, and paper bills.

it was beautiful.

two years after, i am here, typing these words on a rainy day brought by the tropical depression.

or brought by my seasonal depression.

today, raindrops are falling like tears of a girl whose tomorrow is never promised.

peace is almost a stranger.

ambition is almost a last resort.

happiness is almost a hoax.

no bucket of bravery can ever be enough to quench this thirst of knowing the certainty of tomorrow.

optimism never equates with strength because it’s so draining.

nonetheless, i am happy for them.

these dreams are what wakes us up every morning.

when peace is almost a stranger, hope is our new-found friend.

funny how turning 20 also means turning sad.

it’s the end of a happy childhood and the beginning of a melancholic adulthood. no wins, just losses.

losing your carefree self, losing your passion, and losing easy-earned genuine happiness.

i would have never wanted to grow up and grow old if i have only known it would be like this – inconsolable.

sometimes i ponder upon the thought, why do i think i know so much when i was eighteen but i know nothing now that im twenty.

in high school, i was an architect, full of plans. now im a helpless mathematician full of problems.

how can someone be good at figures but cannot figure out something.

to turn twenty is weird, at least for me. am i old enough to be decisive? or decisive enough to not wanna grow old?

when one is innocent, a lot of doors are unopened.

the discoveries we make each day feel like the excitement we have when opening christmas presents.

but where is that excitement now that innocence is but hanging by a thread.

few doors are opened easily.

some doors are hard to close.

and most doors are even harder to open.

yeah i get it. age is just a number. so is the rollercoaster of turning twenty just a phase?

and i will whisper to the cherub 
to mend this forlorn mortal 
who wheedles its way to solace 
and punching crowds of darkness 
lurking inside the bustling city 
in thralled to time and destiny 
coaxed itself not to bemoan 
from the sharp pangs of isolation 
brawling battles never won 
lie awake like an embittered man 
with a pair of fathomless eyes 
dulled by stale yuletide lights 
in chafed by the labyrinth of woe 
an imbecile none has ever known 
and i will whisper to the cherub 
to whisper to the immortal.

hey, eleven months had passed
since i thought we're going to last
the monsoon's changed
and memories are chained
right where i chose to stay.

i'm on the bench at the park
where we fell and fell apart
i heard children's laughter
turn into disaster
right where i chose to stay.

blank stares locked on the swings
while i never felt any damn thing
when i nursed my pride
and got left behind
right where i chose to stay.

now the seesaw has stopped working
like once we had we ended one evening
park paint has paled
but the pain remained
right where i chose to stay.

hey, eleven months had passed
maybe this is gonna be the last --
-- i will be fearing change
finally free of chains
and find where i choose to stay.

one took two seconds
built for twenty years
crumpled for a moment
brought a million tears.
both shared a kid's smile
clapped at one's triumph
walked out distinct doors
turned out to be tired.
devoted now divided
past becoming memory
yes, there was happiness
of a union now a history.