Monday, February 24


I blame Starting Over.

D: I think I'm falling for you. So I need to say goodbye.

D: That's unfair. You can't say bye to friends (ouch).

D: But it's the only way to keep me sane. I know you'll be happy.

Then he sends this a couple of days after:

D: I know I shouldn't be texting you but ex sent me a message saying sorry.

D: Go for second chances.

But then yesterday, Iza Calzado said that she's friends with all her exes, so...

D: No hard feelings between us right? Just forget about my drama last week. I hope you and your ex get your second chance!

D: Yeah, you've been good to me, really. Except for the time you said bye.

So tell me who's brave? Lol

Thursday, January 16

Hospital D


Went up the pantry to get some coffee when I suddenly felt my thighs aching. Must've been the squats I did yesterday. Nothing that a few stretches can't fix. Went back down to my workstation, felt really tired. Head's now aching, felt like a giant clamp was squeezing a quarter of my face - from my right eye up. Had to drag myself home. Was feeling really weak.

Got home and complained of a really bad headache. It was the first time I felt that bad. Took some paracetamol. Headache's now coupled with fever. Someone at home went out to buy a thermometer. Can't remember the last time I had to use one to get my temp. The stick beeped, it was a 39. Was exchanging messages with doc; told me that it could be dengue.

It was a miracle I was able to sleep. That headache was the worst I've had ever.


Tatay accompanied me to the ER. Awesome, not a lot of people! A nurse took my vitals, asked me to fill out some forms and wait. Was called into a cubicle. The doctor ordered tests: blood, x-ray, urinalysis. Was asked to get some breakfast before I could be given meds for the fever.

Went around the hospital for the labs. Bought some food at the lobby coffee shop while Tatay bought some Gatorade at the nearby drugstore. Hardly ate. Felt like throwing up. Was really weak and really cold, I had to stand by the stretcher just outside the ER. Doctor's shift ended, was endorsed to another one.

Called back into the cubicle. Was a foot away from the chair when I saw the note on the lab results. Yep, it was dengue.

Good news, my platelets are within the normal range. Was advised to hydrate, take paracetamol, and watch out for bleeding. No dark colored food.

Went home to break the news. I. Can. Not. Eat.

Went back to my bed, still feeling worst than I've ever felt. Seriously, I felt like dying.

Nanay chopped up some apples. Juiced two carrots. An hour or so later, threw up that forced lunch. We needed to go back to the hospital. Throwing up was a sign.

Back at the ER, another round of blood work. My platelet count was still normal. Discharged.


Had another round of blood work first thing in the morning. Still normal... and still cannot eat.


My arm's got a handful of needle holes. Hmmm... my platelet count went slightly up.


Went back to the ER to get my platelet count. Was not discharged. Substantial drop. Had to be admitted.

Was on a stretcher, about lunch time, first IV ever. It wasn't as bad as I imagined... but it was a little itchy.

ER people went noticeably conscious. A lady doctor with some residents - yep, cute residents. lol - came in; trajectory: my bed.

Lady doc looked up my chart, ordered an ab ultrasound, and pressed around my tummy.

Even if I'm sick, I don't like the attention of being taken care of. But when the wheelchair arrived for my trip to the radiology unit, I was too weak to protest. Sonogram done. And now we wait again at the ER. About 30 minutes lapsed, room was finally free. Wheeled up for my first hospital stay.

It was gloomy outside. My parents went back home to get some supplies. I was alone in my room watching cars drive by.


My arm was getting spotty from all the needles that pricked me at around 4:30 in the morning. Breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snacks came at predictable times. Oh and sheets were replaced at around 8am. I remember sitting down near the door as Nanay watched KrisTV.

Nurses and doctors would come in, get my vitals, give me meds. It was a routine save for this lady resident waking me up at around 1am just to poke me around with her steth. And there was this nurse who aside from getting my temp and bp, also took my pulse rate and wrote down his name on the white board across the bed. Found out from a friend who used to work in the hospital that said nurse asked him to introduce us. I still look pretty even if I'm dying and unwashed. Lol.

And thanks to friends who dropped by. There were just too many fruits, I had to share them with the nursing staff.


Blood results came in. Platelet count was up after dropping the past few days. The lady doctor - who I later found out was quite an institution in her field - told me that she's discharging me. That was most welcome. My IV hand was already swollen and was itching like crazy.

Asked Tatay to buy a cake for the nursing staff. Nanay cleared the bill: around P200 for my morning vitamins. Thank God for healthcards!

Was wheeled down to the lobby, my eyes peeking out the stack of pillows on top of me, and was wheeled back home.

Still felt really weak. At least now without fever. And without that terrifyingly bad headache.


I am in class doing a presentation due last week. All's well... and I am grateful.


I always fancied getting admitted and throwing a party in my hospital room. Far from what I imagined, I was too weak to entertain guests. Nonetheless, your presence was most appreciated, friends.

From that whole episode - staying in the hospital, getting by with just IV and paracetamol while feeling that weak and sick for the first time ever! - I can't help but believe that my getting well was a miracle. My illness had no cure and the anointed time for my healing was set by no one but God.

And it's official, I love sinigang. That was my only saving grace because I had zero appetite for everything else. Lol

Monday, January 6

Retro MD

I'm writing again because - you guessed it! - I'm feeling a tad bit heartbroken.

I blame Got to Believe (teen love whut?!), driving through dark roads, and John Mayer x Katy Perry.

First, I hate your conflicts Got to Believe. Those decisions are too hard for teeners. You're throwing them into life and love situations that are just too difficult to process. Heck I'm already 29 and just imagining myself in similar circumstances is more than enough to make me teary-eyed and spiral into unreasonable sadness for weeks a handful of days. Why can't we just stick to the "magic" part?! I'm even willing to settle for that pseudo-boyband singing Daniel Padilla songs! Ang-hard po ng sacrifices and doing the right thing and first love but cannot be. Sobrang hard po, na-dedepress ako! Lol

Second and third, driving through that road from Sta. Lucia Mall to Ortigas Extension with John Mayer and Katy Perry singing Who You Love on the radio is S-U-I-C-I-D-E! Cold December night, holiday cheer, dreamy lights, and that oh so yummy song inevitably pain the unpaired and yearning. Maybe it's just seasonal affective disorder (SAD) or maybe I'm just being bitter. Lol.


I know that we just see - or used to see - each other on a "casual" basis. You know the drill, no strings attached. And I should've known better: the occasional checks via text are just that. Why I somehow feel a tinge of hurt when I read that you're wishing for your ex back and that you tried meeting people but they just couldn't compare, I haven't figured out yet. Maybe it was because I felt that I was ready to jump in and that you could be that someone to jump in with. Or perhaps because again, I was one of them, instead of being THE one. It would've been great to start the new year on a happy note, but it is what it is.

One's name may very well be one's fate. You write well by the way and I, well I fell in love with a cybercelebrityMD.

Friday, June 21

Sunny Sunny Sunny

Rare instances I get drunk, you bet I'm at the beach. Summer 2013's no different.

Hotel's awesome. Poolside's heaven at night. Quite a walk to the beach but then I really enjoyed the trike trips to and fro. First night was THE night. Explicitly told friends rooming with me not to drink because I won't be able to take care of their drunk asses. It's my night... I'm the one getting drunk! Lol

So we went to this bar and I started loading on this blue drink. Adios Motherfucker. After 7 or 8 of those, yep, I was quite a goner... but at least I was a happy goner. Funny thing about me is that I'm a happy drunk. We hate sappy drunks, don't we? Lol. 

When I'm alcohol-laden, I tend to be my friendliest self... and God forgive me, I talk to everyone in maarte English, at least that's what witnesses say. But hey, I find it liberating being my happy drunk self: raising my glass to complete strangers, smiling to everyone I see, heck I remember swirling around a pole and talking to the guy smiling at that stunt I made. And I get all excited and giddy when I'm drunk. Lol

We were about to call it a night and was walking back to another section of the beach - everyone wanted to eat, I was too drunk to care. Lol - when another bar invited us in. So in we went! Haha. Found myself chatting up some middle-eastern guys and dancing with another gay guy and his fag hag. Friends thought I'd get hit or something by talking to random strangers but hey, everyone's happy right?! Lol. 

When they were already eating, I was apparently still talking in my maarte English and even pointed to a guy from another group saying: "He's the cutest guy in your group!" Boy was I drunk! Lol. I knew I was minutes to throwing up. I was that wasted. So we took a trike, went back to the hotel and as soon as the door opened, I freed up some blue stuff into the kitchen sink. My 2 roomies were asking if I was ok. Of course I was! Haha. And so they went on with their own business. I had to date the restroom for a bit more and yep, threw up some more. TMI, I know. Lol. When I got out of that date, saw the sun already up and my 2 ever-concerned roomies sound asleep... so much for looking out for me! Hahahaha

Back in Manila, I was in denial that I got drunk. Hey, I vividly remember what I did, and no lapses in judgment on my part, I swear! But when I saw pictures of me having that glowing blue tongue, I figured I really had one too many Motherfuckers.

Oh summer, I miss you in this rain.


Monday, November 26


Right at this very instance, I feel that everything's gonna be ok; that feeling of joy brewing inside your chest.


And I am just grateful.

I've sort of reclaimed myself. A week or two ago, I was watching Awkward and Jenna pleaded to Matty, "Please tell me what's wrong with me." That after being "hidden" by Matty, and Jake breaking up with her. It summed up how I felt about myself. Really, what's wrong with me?

But now, at this very instance, I know that I am great. God's made me to be awesome. And at the end of the day - and forgive me, I mean this without the slightest bit of bitterness - it's really not my loss.


Friday, November 9

Living with HIV

In less than a week, two friends of friends died of lung failure, one of them I personally met. They fall under the at-risk demographic in the country: MSM, in their 20s and early 30s, professional.

I'd have to admit, I'm getting paranoid yet again. Although my recent encounters have been safe so far, I can't seem to dust off the idea that with how rampant HIV is right now, I too, with my anonymous casual trysts, am bound to have it. What I can't seem to come to terms with as well is the fact that these guys are supposed to be smart, they have jobs and they can therefore pay for rubber and lube. So the question is why? how?

Abstinence might just be the only foolproof way to avoid HIV or a monogamous relationship - sexual or otherwise - might do the trick. Reminds me of something I read somewhere: a relationship with no one means a relationship with everyone. Or that line from Lana Del Rey's Ride: "... I belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone...."

But the thing is that I'm unattached. I'm not in a monogamous relationship. And I don't wanna be in one just so I can have sex and sleep soundly at night that I'm in no risk of HIV infection. In spite of my rather whorish ways, I can't reconcile the idea of a regular encounter with someone devoid of emotions or attachment... plus those who attempted to make a fubu out of me inevitably developed "feelings." So much for their warning not to fall in love with them. Lol. I'm just not fubu material, I think.

So we go back to finding a partner. And we go full circle. I don't want to look for one. If he comes, he comes. It's living life in open space, whoever comes is the right person; whenever it happens is the right time. But then what do I do while that moment is still in waiting? Be safe is still my best bet. Rubber and lube - at least I hope - will suffice.

Tuesday, October 23


I was in the winter of my life. And the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not a very popular one, who once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet — but upon an unfortunate series of events, saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again — sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I had been living — they asked me why. But there’s no use in talking to people who have a home, they have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lie your head.

I was always an unusual girl, my mother told me I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. And if I said that I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way, I’d be lying — because I was born to be the other woman. I belonged to no one — who belonged to everyone, who had nothing — who wanted everything with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about — and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people — and finally I did — on the open road. We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore — except to make our lives a work of art.

Live fast. Die Young. Be Wild. And Have Fun.

I believe in the country America used to be. I believe in the person I want to become.
I believe in the freedom of the open road. And my motto is the same as ever —
I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I’m at war with myself — I ride. I just ride.

Who are you? Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?
Have you created a life for yourself where you’re free to experience them?

I have.

I am fucking crazy. But I am free.