There's so much hate and bashing on Facebook, that it hurts to scroll the News Feed.
I love my city, and I think that it's best for my mental and emotional health to stay away from reading trolls comments, or people who bash my city for what's it going through.
I infrequently use my FB account these days. I usually spend 3-5 minutes scrolling through the feed before closing it down. Yet on September 3, I actually burned almost 3-5 hours on Facebook, reading updates on the Davao Bombing Incident.
Most of my friends are nurses who are employed at the different hospitals that responded to the disaster. It was inspiring to read their testimonials on how they gave their effort to save the lives of the injured.
.....and it can be emotionally taxing.
Not that it's a negative thing, but I've known for a long time that I'm a highly sensitive person. I absorb people's emotions. An Empath, for short.
There is so much drama on Facebook right now that it's draining me, so the best option is to abandon it for now.
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Monday, September 5, 2016
Your love, my undoing
Hooray!
I finally finished my second fanfiction, Your love, my undoing, for this year!
The first fanfic I wrote and finished is also online, His Eyes on Me. Both stories are Final Fantasy 8 fanfictions.
Truth it, it feels awkward to post it here in my blog. It's a romance, and I'm still trying to link in my head that I actually wrote a romance fic.
Oh well... 2016 is a year to stretch myself: writing , posting it online and finishing a story is actually a way to stretch myself.
This calls for a mini-celebration!
I need a nice movie to watch... like Train To Busan. I guess I'll watch once the situation in the city has calmed down.
I finally finished my second fanfiction, Your love, my undoing, for this year!
The first fanfic I wrote and finished is also online, His Eyes on Me. Both stories are Final Fantasy 8 fanfictions.
Truth it, it feels awkward to post it here in my blog. It's a romance, and I'm still trying to link in my head that I actually wrote a romance fic.
Oh well... 2016 is a year to stretch myself: writing , posting it online and finishing a story is actually a way to stretch myself.
This calls for a mini-celebration!
I need a nice movie to watch... like Train To Busan. I guess I'll watch once the situation in the city has calmed down.
Sunday, September 4, 2016
When you try to analyze your anger
Today, I am ashamed to write that I lashed out on my mother. The tiger within me roared.
The source of the conflict was very very simple.
I had planned to changed the bedding and curtains of my room. I already removed the old beddings and placed the new ones on my undone bed. I was reading a novel when my mom appeared to tell my it was my turn for massage.
She babbled asking our helpers for help to clean the room. I thanked the offer, but refused it.
It was my room and responsibility. Two hours later, my massage session was done and I was informed it was lunch time. I decided to visit my room first to get a handband when I was taken off-guard by the sight that greeted me.
My room was immaculately clean!
The beddings were changed. The curtain I selected was changed.
My room was cleaned!
AND I WAS REALLY MAD!
I called my mom and asked her why they cleaned my room, when I specifically told her I was the one who would clean the room. Everytime my mom answer, disrespectful me would replied, "What did I tell you?" in our mother tongue.
I was so upset I stayed inside the room.
The room was immaculate, but deep inside, I was a boiling pot of rage.
I tried to push-ups to make the anger go away. It failed. It was so strong. so heavy, that the only thing I knew best to deal with it....... was to curse out loud.
Now, my mom heard this and barged into my room. She reminded me that I could be heard all the way to the kitchen.
Damn if my voice reached the kitchen. Damn if my neighbors heard me. I was visibly upset. My mom lost her patience and told me if I didn't like the room, then she would just instruct the helpers to remove the beddings.
I didn't want the beddings to be removed. I just wanted to be alone. Alone to deal with my feelings and rage.
My mom left and I just lied down on the bed. I grabbed my notebook and wrote my feelings.
Several hours later, I left my room to have lunch. I had already calmed down then. Eventually, I apologized to my mom.
This event had me thinking.....why was I so mad? Why couldn't I control the rage?
Believe me, I can't recall the last time I reached that boiling point.
I pondered why. What were the circumstances that led me to be that angry?
Here were the facts:
1. I was so excited to change the bedding and curtains.
2. I personally selected the bedding and curtains.
3. I specifically instructed my mom not to touch my room, nor did I want the help of the helpers.
4. Mother did not listen to number 3.
5. I felt robbed of the opportunity to make my room clean.
6. I felt mother did not care enough to listen to my request and broke her word.
What does the act of tidying mean to me?
Take note, I did not grow up having to clean a house. There were always helpers around to do it for me. When I grew up, I realized what a sorry excuse of a human being I was and decided to be responsible.
I decided to occupy my room and promised to be responsible for its cleanliness.
One of the things I actually love is changing the bedding, even if it's tiresome. It's tiresome, yet it brings me a sense of... industry.
Let me tell you this, I have not changed the bed sheets and pillow cases for almost three weeks, naturally I wanted to sleep on something clean and fresh!
Although my mom, in her best intentions, tried to help me and provide me a clean room... I think I felt angry because the work was stolen from me.
Yep. The Work was stolen from me. The act of doing something I wanted to do, was stolen to me.
Not only was it promised to me, but it was stolen.
And I don't like it when someone promises something and doesn't deliver it. I don't like it when someone steals from me.
No wonder I was angry.
But there's more to that, I think.
I'm always reading about Psychology, and there's this concept about "Psychological Projection". Psychological Projection happens when you attribute your hated qualities to another person.
When I refresh my memory, my mother had the intent to help me. I wanted plan A. She couldn't wait for my Plan A and launched Plan B. I got mad because she ignored my plans and decided to go with her own because she thought it was for my own benefit.
Wait, haven't I done what my mother has done too?
The source of the conflict was very very simple.
I had planned to changed the bedding and curtains of my room. I already removed the old beddings and placed the new ones on my undone bed. I was reading a novel when my mom appeared to tell my it was my turn for massage.
She babbled asking our helpers for help to clean the room. I thanked the offer, but refused it.
It was my room and responsibility. Two hours later, my massage session was done and I was informed it was lunch time. I decided to visit my room first to get a handband when I was taken off-guard by the sight that greeted me.
My room was immaculately clean!
The beddings were changed. The curtain I selected was changed.
My room was cleaned!
AND I WAS REALLY MAD!
I called my mom and asked her why they cleaned my room, when I specifically told her I was the one who would clean the room. Everytime my mom answer, disrespectful me would replied, "What did I tell you?" in our mother tongue.
I was so upset I stayed inside the room.
The room was immaculate, but deep inside, I was a boiling pot of rage.
I tried to push-ups to make the anger go away. It failed. It was so strong. so heavy, that the only thing I knew best to deal with it....... was to curse out loud.
Now, my mom heard this and barged into my room. She reminded me that I could be heard all the way to the kitchen.
Damn if my voice reached the kitchen. Damn if my neighbors heard me. I was visibly upset. My mom lost her patience and told me if I didn't like the room, then she would just instruct the helpers to remove the beddings.
I didn't want the beddings to be removed. I just wanted to be alone. Alone to deal with my feelings and rage.
My mom left and I just lied down on the bed. I grabbed my notebook and wrote my feelings.
Several hours later, I left my room to have lunch. I had already calmed down then. Eventually, I apologized to my mom.
This event had me thinking.....why was I so mad? Why couldn't I control the rage?
Believe me, I can't recall the last time I reached that boiling point.
I pondered why. What were the circumstances that led me to be that angry?
Here were the facts:
1. I was so excited to change the bedding and curtains.
2. I personally selected the bedding and curtains.
3. I specifically instructed my mom not to touch my room, nor did I want the help of the helpers.
4. Mother did not listen to number 3.
5. I felt robbed of the opportunity to make my room clean.
6. I felt mother did not care enough to listen to my request and broke her word.
What does the act of tidying mean to me?
Take note, I did not grow up having to clean a house. There were always helpers around to do it for me. When I grew up, I realized what a sorry excuse of a human being I was and decided to be responsible.
I decided to occupy my room and promised to be responsible for its cleanliness.
One of the things I actually love is changing the bedding, even if it's tiresome. It's tiresome, yet it brings me a sense of... industry.
Let me tell you this, I have not changed the bed sheets and pillow cases for almost three weeks, naturally I wanted to sleep on something clean and fresh!
Although my mom, in her best intentions, tried to help me and provide me a clean room... I think I felt angry because the work was stolen from me.
Yep. The Work was stolen from me. The act of doing something I wanted to do, was stolen to me.
Not only was it promised to me, but it was stolen.
And I don't like it when someone promises something and doesn't deliver it. I don't like it when someone steals from me.
No wonder I was angry.
But there's more to that, I think.
I'm always reading about Psychology, and there's this concept about "Psychological Projection". Psychological Projection happens when you attribute your hated qualities to another person.
When I refresh my memory, my mother had the intent to help me. I wanted plan A. She couldn't wait for my Plan A and launched Plan B. I got mad because she ignored my plans and decided to go with her own because she thought it was for my own benefit.
Wait, haven't I done what my mother has done too?
Saturday, September 3, 2016
The Horror Story of the Bombing Incident of Roxas Night Market in Davao City
Our beloved city, "The safest city", The Land of Promise, Davao , has been bombed last night.
This is not the first incident. Way back in 2003, I recall that our old airport was bombed. Thirteen years later, our city has been bombed again.
I was very excited to watch "Train to Busan" today. I yearned for its horror-action packed storyline.
I was not expecting the horror story that greeted me when I scrolled my facebook feed.
It was a horror story that put Train to Busan to shame.
Would you like to know what it is?
It is the hypocrisy and crab-mentality of my fellowmen.
When disaster struck Paris, and Istanbul, some of my fellowmen were all #Prayfor(insert country).
When disaster struck our city, they made a mockery of it.
Karma. It suits you. "Are you really the safest city?" Where is your president now?
The horror is incomparable that Train to Busan pales it comparison to it.
I have never been more ashamed of my country.
This is not the first incident. Way back in 2003, I recall that our old airport was bombed. Thirteen years later, our city has been bombed again.
I was very excited to watch "Train to Busan" today. I yearned for its horror-action packed storyline.
I was not expecting the horror story that greeted me when I scrolled my facebook feed.
It was a horror story that put Train to Busan to shame.
Would you like to know what it is?
It is the hypocrisy and crab-mentality of my fellowmen.
When disaster struck Paris, and Istanbul, some of my fellowmen were all #Prayfor(insert country).
When disaster struck our city, they made a mockery of it.
Karma. It suits you. "Are you really the safest city?" Where is your president now?
The horror is incomparable that Train to Busan pales it comparison to it.
I have never been more ashamed of my country.
Binging on Telemundo's Santa Diabla
Last weekend, I binged on reading Caray Caray recaps from Telemundo's show, Santa Diabla.
I was listening to an old Jencarlos Canela song titled, "Tu Veneno", which is in my playlist since 2012. So how did I discover this song? Years ago, "El Cuerpo Del Deseo" was shown in one of our local channels.
Jencarlos starred in a telemundo-produced show calles "Mas Sabe El Diablo" way back 2009-2010. He was partnered with Gaby Espino, 10 years his senior. Nevertheless, they had chemistry! This is the video I'm talking about. Lovely couple aren't they?
.....yet they broke up in 2014 :(
Anyways, I was looking over Gaby Espino's filmography, clicked Santa Diabla, read its plot, and scourged youtube for clips.
One of the vids I saw was "Humberto y Santa", and I was intrigued!
Because I couldn't understand spanish except for some words, I went over to my good ol' favorite site for telenovela recaps, "Caray caray!".
Within four hours, I devoured everything I could about the show. It was painful to scroll all through 200 comments!
Finally contented, I switched off my phone and ruminated over the story: it was similar to another telemundo show titled "Flor Salvaje".
Except that Flor Salvaje was much more satisfying to watch, and the heroine of that show (the late Monica Spear) had amazing chemistry with the anti-hero/villain of the story.
Both telenovelas ended tragically: the heroine's part dies without knowing they were to be expectant fathers.
yet Flor's ending was much more satisfying. You could see that Flor was able to raise her son well... whereas Santa Diabla....
Well, her man's is dead, and the person who killed her man is on the loose, prowling about her.
At least Flor had a much more decent ending!
Revenge was one of the core themes of both story.
What I liked about how Santa Diabla is how they portrayed it: Nobody wins.
It was good that I binged on those recaps.
My "creative well" is going through a drought, and I need to infuse myself with much ideas as I can.
I was listening to an old Jencarlos Canela song titled, "Tu Veneno", which is in my playlist since 2012. So how did I discover this song? Years ago, "El Cuerpo Del Deseo" was shown in one of our local channels.
 |
| Source: Wikipedia. Man, I was still a college freshman when this was shown in 2008! the memories it brings! I didn't like the ending myself. Hero does. Anti-heroine dies. They died in a good way too. |
Jencarlos starred in a telemundo-produced show calles "Mas Sabe El Diablo" way back 2009-2010. He was partnered with Gaby Espino, 10 years his senior. Nevertheless, they had chemistry! This is the video I'm talking about. Lovely couple aren't they?
 |
| source: wikipedia I just saw some clips from youtube. |
.....yet they broke up in 2014 :(
Anyways, I was looking over Gaby Espino's filmography, clicked Santa Diabla, read its plot, and scourged youtube for clips.
.png) |
| source: yes, it's wikipedia again! I like the lay-out of this poster! Santa (Gaby Espino) wants to avenge the murder of her husband. She plots to destroy Humberto (Carlos Ponce, the one on the right side of the poster). Things were supposed to go according to plan, until she meets Santiago (the dude she's clinging to on the poster). The same dude happens to be the brother of the one she's going to destroy. Strangely, I didn't like the Santa/Santi pairing. No chemistry! |
Because I couldn't understand spanish except for some words, I went over to my good ol' favorite site for telenovela recaps, "Caray caray!".
Within four hours, I devoured everything I could about the show. It was painful to scroll all through 200 comments!
Finally contented, I switched off my phone and ruminated over the story: it was similar to another telemundo show titled "Flor Salvaje".
 |
| source: latinoparaiso.ru |
Except that Flor Salvaje was much more satisfying to watch, and the heroine of that show (the late Monica Spear) had amazing chemistry with the anti-hero/villain of the story.
 |
| source: www. pinterest So this dude killed her first love interest out of jealousy. She plots revenge and tries to make him fall for her so she can ruin him. The plan is almost perfect.....except that the heroine falls in love for the monster |
Both telenovelas ended tragically: the heroine's part dies without knowing they were to be expectant fathers.
yet Flor's ending was much more satisfying. You could see that Flor was able to raise her son well... whereas Santa Diabla....
Well, her man's is dead, and the person who killed her man is on the loose, prowling about her.
At least Flor had a much more decent ending!
Revenge was one of the core themes of both story.
What I liked about how Santa Diabla is how they portrayed it: Nobody wins.
It was good that I binged on those recaps.
My "creative well" is going through a drought, and I need to infuse myself with much ideas as I can.
Friday, September 2, 2016
Now what?
...I ran out of ideas to write for this daily blog.
Looking back at my previous posts, I've written a bunch of topics on creatimg, on writing, and on mundane things that bother me.
Seeing them made me realize, "oh! Look at the shallow things I'm worrying about! Am I really spending my time, worrying?"
Okay. Maybe "shallow", is inappropriate.
Looking back at my previous posts, I've written a bunch of topics on creatimg, on writing, and on mundane things that bother me.
Seeing them made me realize, "oh! Look at the shallow things I'm worrying about! Am I really spending my time, worrying?"
Okay. Maybe "shallow", is inappropriate.
Thursday, September 1, 2016
2 months of blogging
I'm surprised that I made it to September.
I committed to blog daily last June 16 or June 17.
Two months later, and I'm still writing!
Hooray!
I committed to blog daily last June 16 or June 17.
Two months later, and I'm still writing!
Hooray!
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