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The reason why people have cellphones is supposedly for easier and faster communication, especially in cases of emergency, so that we can easily reach people.

Eh ano pang silbi ng cellphone mo kung everytime na lang may emergency eh hindi ka sumasagot, hindi ka ma-contact, or worse, laging naka-off ang phone mo or nagpapalit ka na lang bigla ng number nang hindi mo man lang masabihan ang sarili mong pamilya?!

Fuck you, Dad. You're as useless as ever.

Isang araw talaga magbabaril na lang ako ng sarili ko sa sobrang inis.


It is no secret how dysfunctional my family is - in my perspective, at least. I also openly tell my friends how I feel about my parents.

Don't get me wrong, they've done their best to fulfill their parental duties. They tried to raise me well and fed me more than the usual three meals a day, they sent me to the finest schools even if they can hardly afford it, and made sure I graduated from medical school. Most kids would envy me. Living in a third world country where food and education is something most families still have to fight for - and even beg for from the government - I pretty much have an awesome life.

Except that the relationship I have with my family, especially with my parents, isn't a good one.

Let me talk about my dad on this one.

Growing up, I hardly saw my dad. He would hardly go home. Mom always said it was because of work, but logic and ideals kept telling me that if you love your family, you would always come home to them. Because we weren't given any money when we were younger, I would always check my dad's pockets, looking for coins at least. Every single time I would find large coins, with PAGCOR engraved on them.

I remember asking my grandmother what they were once, after I tried to buy chips from a store using those PAGCOR coins and the store owner refused. Grandma said they aren't for buying stuff. I was then forced to ask my mom (at the same time admit that I was stealing money from my dad), who told me that those are actually tokens used in the casino.

That's how I found out that my dad's a gambler.

Dad used to earn a lot. More than our family ever needed, really. He can earn millions in a week. I never saw my dad give my mom money for household expenses. Dad's in charge of paying for our tuition and the monthly bills, but more often than not, it was my mom who would pay for those, not my dad. I learned he usually spends all his money in the casino, along with the countless women (whores) he went out with.

Yes, my dad's a womanizer, too.

He isn't good-looking. With one blind eye and a balding head along with his dark complexion, my dad's far from being a head-turner. But his pockets looked too damn good for the ladies. I always asked my mom why she never argued with my dad regarding his unfaithfulness. She just says that it's part of his job, being a salesman, aside from the fact that she no longer wants to have any intimacy with him.

I tried my best to understand, to reason against reason that dad never left us anyway, unlike what I usually see on TV. He continued to do his financial responsibilities to us, no matter how unreliable he can be at times. He is a failure as a husband and as a father, but I never said anything.

I snapped when I found out he impregnated our maid.

He denied it was his. Until this very day he refused to admit that he's the father of our former maid's child who looks so much like him and was named after him. I yelled and screamed at him, expressed all the anger I felt all those years.

I told him I hate him.

I still do.

Time didn't heal the wounds. In fact, it made it worse. I found out that my dad has other kids from whores, although like the previous one, he denied being their father.

Just a couple of years ago, I found out that my father has three kids with a whore from Payatas. What added insult to injury is that they are all using his surname. They also happen to be close to my age, which means that my dad was never faithful to my mother.

During his last campaign as a barangay councilor, he said there's nothing wrong about being a womanizer since it's a "guy thing". Yep, said by the man who has three female children.

I know people would just tell me "at least he didn't leave your mom" but I sure as hell wish my mom left him years ago. He does not deserve my mom. He does not deserve to bask in all the success my sisters and I have achieved. My mom and my sisters have done nothing but tolerate how bad of a family man he is, all for the sake of staying together and making people believe we're okay.

Nobody has an inkling of an idea how much I wish my grandparents would rise from the dead and torment him every single day for hurting us, especially my mother.

Caught In The Middle

You love Brendon Urie so much you shriek like a teenager whenever you see him, the same way you fangirl over comic book artist Mervin Malonzo simply because he has killer artwork. You never got over how at one point I hated your dog so much for getting all your attention because he was dying and you kept using it against me whenever you can.

That's just the way you are.

I loved you nevertheless.


The past.

I think about our relationship and I find it so hard to blur out all the negativity that went on for four years. The almost daily bickering and arguments over petty things that always gets blown out of proportion because of my stubbornness and ill temper coupled with your refusal to back down pretty much sums up what kind of relationship we had. Until now I still can't figure out nor understand why we lasted so long.

Why we even bothered to stay together.

But now it's all over. It's been almost five months and I am honestly relieved that I am no longer with you.

Yet every now and then we get to talk. You send me text messages with inquiries you know I can't refuse to answer. You still know your way around me. I feel guilty for replying to your messages, knowing my girlfriend does not want me to talk to you anymore. At the same time, I also feel stupid in the end when you leave me hanging, when you just end the conversation without even properly ending it.

And I relive the old feelings of being your doormat.

I'm so glad we're through.


Mar. 30th, 2014

There's a different kind of release when you're finally able to tell someone how you feel and they actually listen.


I refuse to believe I am still the same old emo kid I was 6 years ago.

And I refuse to let someone like you drive me mad again.

coffee is my alcohol

"You want to know what the fucking situation really is? You're in love with someone else and I'm committed to someone else. Yet every single day, since the very first time I saw you, I've been trying so damn hard not to fall for you - because it's wrong. It's complicated, and it's all fucked up. Yes, this is me trying so damn hard not to tell you how much I've always loved you and how much I've been trying so damn hard not to love you. That's how fucked up this situation is."

Mark let out a sigh. He carefully placed his coffee mug on the table, keeping his hand steady despite the tremors his muscles have been having after his sudden outburst.

Oh coffee, how you've damned me. Mark Pajarillo is not the type of guy who just blurts out his feelings. His smooth well-calculated words and actions have always been his prime weapon in getting one girl after another. How then can he get this one girl he knew is the love of his life after this very unromantic confession?

The awkward silence that wrapped the room after the mug clinked on the table enveloped him and Rose. He looked at her, hoping to see the most subtle sign of reciprocation.

Nonetheless, he knows the truth. He's about to get married. Meanwhile, she's sorting things out with her so-called boyfriend and their complicated set-up. She's already in a messed up relationship and here I am, making it worse for her, his conscience continuously whacking his head and beating him up.

The seconds felt like a lifetime.


And here comes the letdown.

back to LJ

Hello, my dear original blog that I cannot dare abandon!

Happy holidays, everyone!

Dear blog, I cannot promise to be back to my usual posting frequency but know that I'll always be here and that I'm definitely keeping you XD

Add that to the fact that there are so many fun communities still in LJ. Even if my friends have dropped their LJs, I'm still gonna be here. :)


I sincerely apologize for not updating for such a long time.

Clerkship thing.

1 month in Community, 1 month Electives (Rehabilitation Medicine --> Pulmonology --> Radiology --> Anesthesiology), 2 months in Pediatrics (1 month ward, 1 month OPD), and currently in Obstetrics.

One word: Exhausting.

But that doesn't mean it's not fun. It is fun! It's different when the theoretical stuff starts happening right before your eyes. It's easier to remember, understand, and grasp the whole concept.

And I guess this exhaustion has also drained me of my ability to whip up words creatively.

Pictures, then!

Free circumcision program in Dagat-dagatan, Naavotas for Community, with my Tuli teammates Ron and Diana

Group 11 end-of-rotation dinner at Grills and Sizzles in QC

Maggie's birthday celebration at Rehab Med with the residents Drs. Andi, Mica, and Sckye :)

Cooped up in Dr. Moral's clinic during Pulmo preceptorship

Retreat at St. Paul Renewal Center in Alfonso, Cavite (where I saw Sister Mila again :) )

Crowding at the Pedia OPD for a picture with the twins Drs. Elise and Jacq Hizon and look-a-likes Kaye Tiu and Dr. Trixy Chu

My older sister daw (kamukha ko ba talaga?), Dr. Rox Pascua!


in the shadows once more

2008. I was broken. No, I was shattered. Everyday was a nightmare. I had to pick up all the pieces and try to put myself back together but there was so much of me that I lost that I was forced to paste pieces of my alter ego instead, in the hopes that I will become stronger. I walked a very thin line between the real me and that alter ego, but for the sake of getting through those painful days, I allowed my alter ego to take over and hide my weak self.

Mid-2009. It took me quite a while before I was finally able to balance the two conflicting characters enough to create an entirely new me, one who would no longer allow anyone to step on me and take advantage of my weaknesses.

Two and a half years later, a combo of critical hits managed to break that shield of mine so hard that I am now again in pieces.

I'm back in the dark. It's so familiar it pierces what's left of me, the pain already bringing so much misery even I'm just at it's doorstep.

But I guess that's really where I belong, who I should be. Who I really am. Weak. Meant to be stepped on, bitched around and snapped at.


Next Stage

Sulit ang hindi ko pag-uwi ng bahay. Sulit ang hindi ko pagligo, pag-kain, at pagtulog. Sulit na sulit ang pag-iyak ko habang nagdadasal at nagmamakaawa sa simbahan.

Sulit ang lahat ng pagod ko.

Heto na iyon. Wala nang atrasan 'to. Heto na ang panahon para patunayan ang sarili ko at magkaalaman na kung may natutunan nga ba ako sa limang taon kong inilagi sa mga lecture hall at laboratory ng med school.

May Littman stethoscope na ako (maraming salamat sa aking ever supportive girlfriend) at oto-ophtha. Kailangan na lang ipa-calibrate ang BP app at i-check kung gumagana pa ang iba ko pang mga gamit na itinambak ko na lang matapos kong pumasa ng Med I.

Oras na para bumili ng white shoes.