WRONG

I just wanted to be like anybody else.

I wanted to look in the sky and appreciate its blue hue, just appreciate it but I look in the sky and think of all the possibilities I can experience if I don't give up. I look up and think that sky is really the limit when it comes to dreams.

I wanted to eat outside like anyone, browse through the social media or listen to music with earphones on my ears, but I look around and notice people. How they came into pairs or groups but I am by myself. I try listening to their chats but its all empty words because I don't personally know them. Sometimes, I go outside; shopping or just walking and I feel compelled not to put earphones on me because I wanted to hear the noise of people around me. There is a fascinating thing about hearing the sound of the murmurs they made.

I wanted to be like my few friends. I wanted to travel around the world from time to time, wear swimsuits and not care about petty things, like money or my skin. I wanted to have a relationship, be committed and raise a family. I wanted to be promoted at work and break free from the back-breaking work I always have. I wanted to spent the weekends and holidays with family and friends instead of caring for others family and friend. But here I am, at the marrying age, pursuing a carreer in law. I couldn't travel because I need money for the tuition fee this and and upcoming semester. I couldn't start a relationship because hello, I can't just walk towards a guy and say "hey, you look absolutely handsome, would you like to date me perhaps?". And I can't quit my job right now because it is very stable. Not to mention all the  health hazard I might face in the future but being a nurse in a government hospital is stable.

I know I always write about how I wanted myself to be. I know I always sound like whining of the life I have. But it's hard to understand being different when you get along with people well. When you have people who honestly accepts you for who you are. It's hard to understand dreams when you're born with the priviledge to just walk away from your day job and follow your hearts desire.

I jus wanted to be like anybody else. But there is something fundamentally wrong with me to begin with.

THE SEVENTH YEAR

You know what they say about time? About how people used to think of black and white, of good and bad or of being rich or poor? But it has always been time. Time is the only real thing in this world. Time is the one thing that matters because it is  the enemy.

I remember during the first three years after my sister's death, my concern was still being alive despite the fact that she's gone from this world. I don't want to live long enough because I thought I would never make it without her. Nothing will never be the same again because she's gone. Then the next three years was just letting the time pass. My thoughts are full of at least trying to live so when I got to see her again, I'll be able to tell her all the things I did after she goes first. Eternity is forever, what will we do with it but to talk and love each other. I wanted to make so many memories, happy or sad, it doesn't matter, I have to fill myself with stories that I will be able to tell her. I also noticed how the people who knows her suddenly stopped talking about her. How they suddenly forgot that I was once had two sisters. How my family were able to smile and laugh again despite the fact that we are broken. Her pictures in our home doesn't change. Her clothes and things were intact and untouched. It was the world around us that changes. It was the people and it was me. Time changes us.

Today was her 7th death anniversary. I will never get comfortable with using the word "death" or "dead" because I think she will only be dead when no one in this world will be able to remember her and I am still here. Me and my family is still here to live with her in our hearts. But time, being the greatest thief of all, seems to slowly take her away from us. It's slowly stealing away the memories. It's making us forget of her voice, of how she laugh, shout, cry, walk, run, stare and everything else in between. Time is slowly taking her away from me.

That is why I always made sure to write it down. I have to spend a day like this in order to remember her and write her down. Maybe if I do this time will fail from making us forget. As long as I live my dream will be to honor her. Of making the world know that she once lived with me here in this awful and yet beautiful place. Memories are very fragile things. The feelings with them fades quickly. But I have to remember. I have to remember her so I can have a courage to live.

WRITE IT

Of all the things I've learned to do, I am most thankful that I can write.

Writing is for me, the only thing that keeps me sane in this insane, ever-changing and cruel world. I am so thankful for all the authors I've read, they gave me the freedom to go into the worlds unknown. They taught me fly and slay dragons. They allowed me to have friends and face monsters with them and above all, they let me live a life.

I know I'm too sentimental right now but I just feel so thankful. So thankful that I grow up reading. That I'm known as always-the girl-with-a-book-in-her-hand. I couldn't imagine how some people can go through this lifetime without reading or writing. We are creatures of feelings. And yet we eventually forget how we feel about a certain moment because we are also limited by time. Time is the greatest thief there is. First it fades the emotion, then it steals the details. No matter how beautiful or tragic a moment is, it is always bound to be forgotten. That is why writing is important. We should write down everything that made us happy, sad, and all the emotions in between. Even the times when we don't feel anything at all. We should write our lives in whatever form we choose. Because that is all there is to it. Because writing allows us to live after we die.

EVERYTHING ABOUT ME IS SAD

It's lonely. No matter what I do, it's still lonely. Sometimes, I want to cry hard so that my sadness may be wash out away. Funny isn't it? I feel more real in sadness. There is so much reality in agony than in laughter. The world is so lonely. I am doing what Im doing just so I could pass the time. I feel trapped. Imprisoned in a life I never choose for myself. And even so, I couldn't change it. Choosing the life I always dream for myself would be selfishness. What am I doing? What am I doing watching and reading different series. I just get envious of the characters. I feel like they're more alive than me. They have a life. I don't feel like I have one  They go on adventures. And my loneliness increases everytime I finish one. Why is there that no fiction last forever? Why am I not allowed to grew up with the characters?  "Life is too cruel," says Katherina Petrova. "If we cease to believe in love, why would we want to live?" But love is fragile. It breaks easily. There are many kinds of love in this world but they are too short-live. Many people fall out of love everyday. And what happens then? What is there after love? It's lonely. I couldn't even believe how lonely I feel right now. Is this the loneliness Kate Spade, Jonghyung and Bordain felt? Is there a way to know when sadness is too much? How can I go on living like this? What is there for me if I ever go on? I am too sad right now.

But I don't want to give up. Not yet. Maybe the only way out of this is through. Maybe tomorrow is a better day. Maybe I'll be able to see things differently if I go on. Maybe I'll be able to write the stories in my head if I continue living despite the loneliness. Believe me, I just want to go on. But it's getting hard everytime.

POCHOLO

There has to be a place for dogs in heaven. I mean, I believe even animals have a soul. They feel and they love so why wouldn't they have souls that wouldn't go to heaven?

My family lost one of our dogs today. Pocholo was an aspin. A breed typically found anywhere in the Philippines. I brought him home when a co-worker gave him to me. He was just a month old and my mother doubt that he would survive not having breastfed. He was so small. Just about the size of a large palm. It was my first time bringing home a dog. And it gave me a sense of responsibility. I have to take care of him because I brought him home. He bacame my instant son. But my work kept me from being with him everyday. So the responsibility of taking care of him was given to my father. My father was the one left in the house while we work so Pocholo was a blessing because he provided my father a diversion. And as the months passed, Pocholo became my brother. My mother loves him because he was also like a son to her. We love him. He was a friend, someone you know would be there barking to welcome you home. He has this habit of hugging us when we arrived home. And his eyes, I tell you, his eyes convey so much love for us it was like looking in the eyes of a human.

But then sickness came over him. He was a parvo survivor when he was a year old but he fought bravely and lived through it. About three weeks ago, he was inflicted by demodectic mange. He never had contact with any stray dogs. We never fed him any raw meat, fish or processed foods. We don't know on earth how did he acquire mange. We tried all known medications, organic and chemical, but mange is slowly taking him away. He lost appetite yesterday and today, I witnessed my brother, my son and my bestfriend as he drew his final breath. He suffered for an hour and all we could do was be with him. I will never forget his eyes. Though with ragged breathing, his eyes never lose the love in them. He locked eyes with me during the final moments. I knew he was trying to say goodbye. That he knew he's just minutes away from death and that he wanted to know that we'll be okay. I told him silently that it's going to be okay and that's when he slowly slipped away. He let out a whimper and took a very deep breath, the one he will never took again. He joined my sister in heaven. It was painful. So painful I don't know the words. We will miss that guy terribly. We will live the days missing that white, sweet, little man we lovingly called Pocholo.

I love you, Pocholo.

Tatay, Mama and Jannel loves you. We will always remember you. You were one of our best three years.

Run free, my love. I will see you again in rainbow bridge. 'Til then, sweet guy. 'Til then.

Pocholo

April 2016-June 11,2018

INTIMACY VS. ISOLATION

It seems to me that as the internet keep on making the world small, the trend nowadays is whether you are inlove or in the process of being there. People keep talking of love for all I care. As if its the most understandable thing in the universe. My relatives keep asking me if I am inlove. My few longtime friends hope I finally found someone to spend the rest of my life with. We rarely got any conversation besides love. Everyone at work, if you would ask them what they want for me, will tell you that they can't wait for the day I introduce them a man I will call boyfriend.

I never got a boyfriend before or someone as close as a boyfriend. I fell in love thrice in different guys in my twenty five years of life and each was never the same. I am more mature each time. Can you blame me if they weren't? Some says I should do this thing called fling or hooking up but I don't want to. It wasn't for me. I don't like to waste time dating guys I can never marry.

Come on, my belief that I am boring proved wrong. People love to talk with me. I know things to keep up on any topic preferences. I don't think it's my physical looks either. Some says I'm cute and pretty. I have a stable job. I do think I'm living healthy. Is it me? Is it because it's just not the time yet? Is the one for me have some serious illness or is already dead?

But as odd as I am, I know in my heart that I am not afraid to be single for the years to come. I couldn't imagine myself raising children. Children are expensive. They are yours one day then poof, before you know it, they're gone. They become people you don't know, eventually. I believe it's part of being a parent but that is not something I have knowledge of yet. But I believe love is sacred. I believe that if someone is for you then its for you.  There's this invisible string that connects the two of you and its getting shorter as the days go by. I believe that one day if the two of you finally met, the string is short but tighter until it explodes and form a heart that the two of you will share. It is always a matter of time. I believe in the myth that our soul is divided in two and we spend many years of our life looking for the other half, only when we found the other half could we finally go beyond the happiness of this life. And I believe that there are those that have their soul as one. I like to think mine is created that way. I think I will never marry and have children because life for me, is greater than that. There is more I could do than becoming a wife and a mother. But who knows? Who knows what the days ahead has in store.

A TIME LIKE THAT

It was when the weather is between it would rain and maybe it wouldn't. When you were out under the open sky. When the wind brushing your beauty-creamed face doesn't hurt. When you never mind the sun peeking through the clouds and touching your skin. It was when your mind momentarily forgets all the deadlines and bills. When you know that all the ones you love are okay. When you suddenly believe that you are where you always wanted to be. It was when you look up, take a deep breath and feel an innate feeling that maybe despite all the violence and injustice you heard, watched last night and read in social media, maybe, just maybe there is still so much good, so much kindness and loving in this world. And that is how it is. It is like that before you were born and it will be like that even if you were not around anymore. It is when you suddenly become aware that you are one with the universe. You would know what I mean by then. You would know that it is during those moments, within that fraction of time, is exactly a good time to die.

ONE SAD DAY

The most hateful part of suffering with depression is that it makes you someone you are not. It is like a person knocking on your the door the day after you spent the night together with all the people you love, celebrating you for being just who you are. You opened the door and find it there standing in front of you. It was wearing the same clothes you wore last night, only that it was stained with coffee-like spilt. Its hair was messy and it smelled. It was hungry. And you can feel that its cold. Your instant reaction was to close the door. To pretend it never knocked in the first place. But you know it's too late. You already looked into its eyes. You already realized that those teary eyes staring back at you, is you.

When you grew up suffering from depression every once or twice in a year, you are aware that you are suffering from it. You know that it is not just sadness. It is not just you having a bad day. Yes, at first you will try to fool yourself. You will go to your most trusted friends and try to be happy with them. You will try to talk yourself out of it. "I have family and friends, what more is there to be depress about?" But you will not try to tell them what's bothering you. How could you? How could you tell someone that you're sad because you don't know. That you want to cry right now because there is something wrong deep inside you and you want to cry but you don't know why. You would want to make them understand something you yourself couldn't. And after some days, you will realize that the sadness you feel wouldn't go away the way like "normal sadness" goes away. It didn't work that way. You know it isn't. Depression isn't just you lacking of support system. It is you suddenly not wanting to do anything. You don't want to eat because you're not hungry. Sometimes you are so tired even if you just woke up from twelve hours of sleep. Sometimes you can't fall asleep even if you are awake for two days. You feel so isolated. Your family and friends are reaching up but you couldn't even extend a hand to meet their's. You don't want to explain anymore because you think they haven't been there and they will never know how awful it feels. That's how it is. Depression makes you someone they don't know. It is not loneliness you feel but isolation. As if you are the only person in the world that experiences it. It makes you selfish. It robs you of yourself from yourself. You stop from taking care of yourself. It makes you think that there is nothing worthwhile to do. All the parties, the small talk, the smiles... they don't mean anything. Life, suddenly becomes meaningless.

God only knows how much I try to win over this debilitating illness on my own without the help of medications. I am afraid that if I start taking serotonin inhibitors, I will be dependent on it. That even if I go on very small amounts at first, I will eventually be needing an increase as I suffer until I become resistant. So I tried online therapist, suicide hotlines and support groups. I tried reading self help books and religious counselors. But when you are there at the center of a dark circle surrounded by depression itself, none of this would work.  Advises that consists of "You should go out more often" "Happiness is a choice" and "We are here for you, all you have to is tell us what you need" all feel like an insult.

I have to stop here. This is not a self help story and I wouldn't come out with something I did to overcome depression so I don't know what else to say. I just want you to know, you who's reading this, of my experience. That maybe you feel the same way and yes, I am not alone. You are not alone. I know and you know (more than our families and friends know) how terribly we suffer from it. But I believe we will heal. Our bodies will heal. The wounds will form a scar. We will be able to overcome this. Depression doesn't have to define us. We should struggle so that it will never have to be us. And maybe one day, when that teary eyed gloomy person that knocked on your door leaves, maybe it will never return again. And we will be free.

MAY YOU GRIEVE WELL

A friend of mine had just lost his beloved mother from respiratory failure a few days ago. It was sudden. Things happen from his mother laughing and with so much life to a person who lies now inside a wooden box. I went to his mother's wake last night together with some collegueas. He was a dear friend. Someone who helped me while struggling during my early months working. He was always there. He was always, always ready to listen to my childish whims. And it broke my heart to see him suffering just as he is now. It broke my heart to listen to him as he tried to make sense of everything that happened in the last few days. His mother was taken in an instant. "Too young," he said. "There is more years ahead of her... why, why does this happen?" It broke my heart to see myself again through him.

But unlike me who faced the same situation, I can say that he was strong. He may not know it now. Many will encourage him to be strong but they don't know that he's already is. He was the source of strength of his father. He was the one who made decisions since the moment his mother was rushed to the hospital. Its ironic how he remembered not knowing what to do during those critical moments. He was a nurse for almost a decade. He witnessed countless codes and deaths. And yet when his mother was the one lying in that hospital bed, her heart slowly giving up, he remembered not being a nurse at all. He became just as a son. He became like one of all our patients' relatives praying hard that the Almighty may allow them more time. In the face of death, all knowledge and reasons became nothing. And he continued to be strong as he made all the funeral arrangements. He couldn't grieve yet. There is much to do. People are coming. They need someone to see them. They need someone who could tell them what happened. And its not time to compliment him, but I really admired him when he recall to us those final days and hours. He had been so strong during her final moments. He, for all its worth, was able to say goodbye.

I didn't.

I never expected that I will.

I remember myself during my sister's final hours. I was there. But it feels like I wasn't there. I remember wishing I am not there. I believe one will never true pain until one witness a loved one dying right before one's very eyes. There are many pain and agony in this world but nothing will ever compare to losing a beloved from sickness. There is so much hurt in witnessing a body battle against something that's killing it from the inside. I remember as my sister was being brought out from the operating room, lifeless and feels like not my sister at all. I wasn't able to say goodbye. And I will never be able to in this lifetime. I'll never be able to escape from that memory as long as Im alive. Unlike my friend, I had not been strong enough. My mourning continues until now.

"It will get worse," I whispered to him as he ushered us outside. The long days and nights will start after they buried the body and all that's left was an empty side of the bed, unwashed clothes, personal belongings everywhere waiting to be pick up by the one who owns it but the one who do was nowhere. Sleep will be the only thing that will momentarily stop all the pain but you will be afraid of sleeping. It is so painful to because you have to close your eyes. For months to come, the only thing that you will see when you close your eyes and the moment you open them was the sight of your beloved on that hospital bed. Of the days she suffered. Her every face will haunt you. Her voice will echoe in your head. You will always hear her calling your name with so much life. Her voice, which sounds like a sweet laughter from a distance, will keep calling you like an itch in the back. And you will find yourself turning around, expecting to find her there--- sitting on the edge of the bed or standing beside the table like she used to, but she wouldn't. It will be her voice you will treasure most. The sound of laughter, of shouts, of the cries and whispers. You will be afraid of the dark. Not anymore because of the darkness itself but because it brings along severe loneliness. You will be very afraid to be left alone. The void. The emptiness. Its as if you can see it coming for you when you're alone. You will want to go somewhere. Anywhere will be fine as long as there is noise and people.  And you will find yourself aching to be heard. You will want someone to talk to. Someone who knows exactly what you're going through. You don't want just someone who will listen but someone who knows what it's like to be on your shoes. Someone who will tell you that you're not okay. That nothing will be okay again. It is so painful. Everything about you from now on will be aching. There will be a time when you will wish in every moment of your waking hours for someone who can take the pain away because you cannot bear it any longer. But you will never find anyone who could. The only one who can was gone. Birthdays and holidays will never be the same again. They will no longer remind you of how fortunate you are to be given another life but of how close you are in seeing her again. You will lose all fear of your own death because you will realize that the other side will not be an abyss like you believe it before. There will be someone waiting for you there. And you will live with that hope. You will cling on to that hope like air you needed to stay alive. And then one day, you will wake up and find yourself on the other side of that pain. You will learn to live with it as I did. It will never go away but you will learn to live with it. Time will heal nothing. The wound is too deep to form a scar but you have no choice, either you live with it or you take your own life. I was given no choice but to live until now. And there will come a time when you will do too. Not for your sake alone but for her as well. You will decide at one point that you have a duty to live your life as fully and as long as possible because it is the last thing you can do to honor the life she lived once. You will realize one day (it will take years and years from now because you will suffer first but you will someday) that your life is actually an extension of hers.

I believe, with everything that I am now and with all that I will ever be, that one day, I'll find my own peace with what happened to my sister. That maybe my broken family will be whole again. That maybe after a long life, we will find each other again in a place free of sickness, injustice and death. And that is what I want him to know. "It will be worse but you will live through it."

ADULTING AT ITS FINEST

So this is how it feels to be an adult. This is how it is to be at the stage when your parents doubt the way you are living your life and wonders if they have done enough so that you can actually live a life. People around you keep bugging you into getting yourself a partner and starting a family because hell yes your womb has an expiration date. The monthly bills never failing to show at your mailbox. Your friends goes from how are you doing to when are you getting married. Not to tell you that at this age, you should start worrying about your health which means you have to watch carefully what you eat and what you do because you remembered the news from the other week ago about people the same age as you who died from hypertension, diabetes and cancer. But you want to lead a good life. You want to do something worthwhile, inspire people and be a legend but you just couldn't decide yet what you're going to be and despite that you don't want to decide yet what you're going to do because you feel infinite like, man, I've got the whole world ahead of me I'm going to think all of that stuff tomorrow.

It sucks. Everyone you know was 24 years old once but how could they do this to you. They never even gave a damn to tell you things about being an adult. Oh yes, its revenge time. You got to figure things out just as the way they did. And to tell you the truth, I really wish I'm 24years old forever so that I don't have to face all these things. How come my friends knew what they're going to be from now when I myself isn't sure. How come getting married and raising a family had been so easy for them when even admitting I have a crush on a guy seems to be the test of a lifetime for me. We live in the same society. We were taught the same morals that guided our parents. How did I turn to be this different from all of them.

I'm reading more now. Two books in a month become easy as a goal despite my hospital working hours because my reading skill enhances everyday. I will be writing a novel soon and I wouldn't let myself procrastinate this time. I encourage myself by thinking that if I don't write this time, I will never be able to write anything in my life. Ever. I am disciplining myself to finish things I've started and to tell you, it's a good exercise and I feel like I'm on the right path. I celebrated my two years as a nurse last week. One year to go and my three year contract with the hospital I work will be done. I can stay as long as I like or I can resign anytime as I like. Although its very good money, I don't think its the right place for me to stay. I don't want to be bounded by the society where people treats people according to their educational level. I'm tired of being bullied by doctors who think they are entitled to all the respect in the world because they're doctors. I don't want to be spending the next years of my life receiving little to almost no recognition from patients who think that you're just doing what the doctors order you to do and that you need to do everything they want because they're sick and because they're paying you. And I'm exhausted of not making any difference. "You can't do that" "The book doesn't justify your action" "How long have you worked here? I worked here for a hundred years, how dare you question me blah-blah-blah-blah" I remember the times when I defied all these. I refused to yield in bullying. I speak up for myself and my coworkers. I reminded patients and their families that believe it or not 75% of the reason I'm working there is because I am fulfilling my dream of helping others. Helping them alleviate suffering. All of us in that field is there because of that reason. Until I realize how the world works. Until I saw myself outside the circle of a long standing pattern and beliefs. That's when I saw that I wouldn't be able to make a difference where I am now. People are comfortable with how things work. I wouldn't be able to abolish all the bullying but I will never be a part of it. I plan on staying for a year or two more. I need to save so I can give myself a better future. I need to give myself a better future so I can share that future with those who think there is no future at all.  24 years of living and the only thing I am sure of is that kindness go on a long way. I have develop this kind of eye that see people on what they are. I lose interest in how much they earn compared to what I earn. I see people around me as equals and because of it I learned to treat people as equals.

And what else am I planning to do? What else should an adult like me do? I think we should continue, despite everything we've been through and will go through, in making the world a better place.

Did it sucks? Did you remember someone telling you that being an adult also means you have to create a better world?

LATE NIGHT VISITOR

I don't know why but my walk for home from my afternoon shifts is reminding me of him.

He is popping out of my mind as soon as I reach the gate and is dwelling there until I fall asleep. In my mind, I can see him beside me, like how he is during our first date. I can sense our height difference and the way my head fits perfectly when I lean on his shoulder. He was smiling at me with his eyes and lips. Oh how long his lashes are and how envious I am of his eyes that seem to speak a thousand words. I can feel his hand, clutching mine, so afraid to let go, wishing we can do more than holding hands. I remember exactly how ready I am to give him a kiss the night we parted. It was a physical longing on my part. I was longing to share something to someone. But I hold on tight to my morals. We were not at the right place and at the right time after our date.  I  can smell him. Oh gods, the smell of his perfume. It was one of the most vivid memory I have of him. As if I can see the sweet smell lingering around his body. I don't know. Maybe it was the night sky. Or the view of the street, from afar. Maybe it was the feel of the air but honestly, I don't know what triggers my brain that I am remembering him out of nowhere.

Its been six months. He tried to contact me twice but I blocked it out. I was angry that he lied to me. He clearly dated another girl during the time he promises that we will both figure out how to love each other. Imagine the pain I felt the moment I saw the picture of them, faces inches from each other, as if the world can go against them and they wouldn't care a bit. Imagine the hurt I endured because the first guy I ever let into my small world didn't even tried to explain to me and win me back. He was a liar. And an asshole. I thought I would never write anything about him again and yet,here I am, trying to convince myself that I've done the right thing.

But what if my sudden nightly recollection of him was the result of guilt. What if I am guilty of letting go? What if its me who has the problem? Maybe it was my long standing trust issues that is the root of all this. Maybe I was wrong to block him all out. Maybe if I just responded to him when he messaged me, maybe he would explain. Then what? What comes after he explains himself? I wouldn't know. It is too late for all that now. Time has passed us by. I am sure his feelings slowly fading away now just as mine does.

It is sad how all these things left a mark on me. I was never the same person after I walked away from this bullshit I thought was love. I was more guarded. More critical. I socialize, yes, but I resolve in never letting anyone in again. I remember how I believe love can justify everything. I thought love can fill any holes and longing we have in our life. Why did he lie to me just as when I thought my love for him can fill the holes he have? I thought loyalty will assure him and us. But it didn't work that way. I was naive. I didn't see before that he was too young to love me. I was at the right place and at the right time. But I didn't get the right person. We ended up losing each other. Happy Valentine's day.

DEPRESSION

The thing about me this past few weeks is that I feel lonely and sad almost all the time. Its not loneliness that roots from lack of belongingness or because I have few friends whatsoever but it's the type of loneliness in which I feel like I am missing my old life.

Its odd. I am at the time of life. I live in the city. I can do whatever I want to do. Date who I want to date. Be someone like those girls from late night drama series. I am never going to be this young again. But I feel empty. All I know is that I am away from my family and friends and you might say that I am just homesick and yes, maybe I am one hell of a homesick because I miss the life I have before I became what I am now. I miss the simplicity I have before. I miss my family. I miss my dog--Morphine and Doug. The sound of their barks. I miss my afternoon naps and late night conversation with my journals and books. I miss the silence of our home. The comfort of our living room. The softness of my own bed. The sound of wind against the gutter of our roof. I miss the shrieking voices of children playing outside. I miss my mother and her gunshot nagging. I miss my father and my sisters. And most of all, I miss myself. I miss the "me" who felt like she can conquer the world with her words. The "me" who have so much to live and die for. The "me" who even without money, can shout to the world that she is happy. We grew up too fast, won't you say? At twenty four,  I feel like I've already live a lifetime that was never mine. I couldn't think of something worth living now. It feels like there is nothing more for me out there. That the world may go on without me and still it will always be the same. I feel tired. And sad. I feel terribly sad of living like this. I feel different. Horribly different. While my friends are getting married and having kids, there is me here. Stuck in an endless cycle of asking why. Why is it so hard to be like everyone else? Why do I have to be me? Why is it sad? Why?

After all these years of trying so hard, I realize that I am still the girl from ten years ago. I still want the things I want from back then. Not a stable job. Nor large bank savings money. But life. I want a simple life. A life when I can watch the sun rise and set. Smell the breeze and feel the wind. Do bonfires, roast meat and talk to native people. I want to hear stories. Not the ones full of self proclamation but real stories of life, tragedy and love. I want to read my books and drink hot sweet cocoa my grandmother used to made for me when I was a little girl. I want to write and spend the day writing. I want to lie under the sky and count the stars. I want to live. I want to feel. But I am too far from all this. No matter what I do now it wouldn't up to this.

Sweet heavens, I feel like I don't deserve this life.

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTION

Maybe maturity is when you realize that it doesn't have to be new year for you to change but I still think that listing down your new year's resolution is a good start, a sign that you decide that you'll change--- for the better. I believe it's important to write down things. We are creatures quick to forget and we need to be reminded from time to time. Sometimes, from ourselves.

Here's my new year's resolution for 2017.

I promise to take care of myself more. I was my laziest during 2016. I ate a lot fastfoods, junkfoods and drank cups and cups of coffee and soda. I slept without washing my face and brushing my teeth. I don't workout. I was a fool to believe that my body can take so much junks and still remain healthy. Thus I suffer from constant stomach ache and facial acne. I promise to start a healthy lifestyle. I'll cut off coffee from my daily routine. I'll eat fruits again. And I'll exercise.

I promise to protect myself from toxic people. 2016 introduced me to people that I thought would be good for me. I failed to listen to that soft voice warning me that people who talk behind your back are toxic. I allowed some of them to ruin me. It won't happen again. Not because they share the same hobby, workplace or name with you means they understand you.  These people suck out life energy. They drag others to the same mud they were. I won't have this in«» my life again.

I promise to love and take care of my family more. Family is important. They share the same blood, the same name and the same burden. It's funny how my relatives doesn't even know me really but I know I'll always have them to back me up. No matter what it is. My family will always be there, as I will be to them.

I promise to invest in memories and dreams. I will enjoy moments more, knowing that I wouldn't be as young as I am now. I'm starting to die and I don't have any plans of staying on the same ground for long. I will study again this year. I will write my book. I will read more books and watch more movies. I will still go to conventions and experience my fandoms. I would love to meet more of the celebrities I enjoy watching. I will compliment others more and I promise to talk less shits. I want others to know me again as someone who talks only when  necessary--- that I've lost because I've said too many bullshits to worthless people. But I will write more. I will write everything I want to remember.

I promise to lessen proscratination. That, I will figure how.

I will love myself more so I can love others more.

I will go back praying and worshipping God. He's unchanging. I know He'll help me make things work out again for us.

I will do all this and write about how I conquer myself at the end of 2017. That is how we grow anyway, right? By conquering ourselves. By pushing through what we think is our limit. That is how we grow and become who we really are. I like to know who am I really.

THE MAYBE TIMES

There are times when I really wish I wasn't born. I feel sad a lot. I think a lot. I dream a lot. There are times when I wish that I was born different. Maybe if I was born in a different place, in different parents, in different circumstances... maybe I was a bit happier. Maybe I wasn't who I am now. Maybe I never need to write down things like this. Maybe I don't need to look at other people and ask myself why am I not like them. Why am I not always happy like them? Why does it hurt to live? Why do I feel how I feel? Maybe if I was a different person in a different place, maybe it wouldn't hurt like this.

But I wasn't.

I was born the way I was born and I grew up to be who I am now. I've gone through many hell of a shit and I live through them all and here I am now. I am still breathing. It is I who remains despite all the spit the world has thrown on me.




Silas walked across the path without disturbing a fallen leaf, and sat down on the bench beside Bod. "There are those," he said, in his silken voice, "who believe that all land is sacred. That it is sacred before we come to it, and sacred after. But here, in your land, they blessed the churches and the ground they set aside to bury people in, to make it holy. But they left land unconsecrated beside the sacred ground, Potter's Fields to bury he criminals and the suicides or those who were not of the faith."

"So the people buried in the ground on the other side of the fence are bad people?"

Silas raised one perfect eyebrow. "Mm? Oh, not at all. Let's see, it's been a while since I've been down that way. But I don't remember anyone particularly evil. Remember, in days gone by you could be hanged for stealing a shilling. And there are always people who find their lives have become so unsupportable they believe the best thing they could do would be to hasten their transition to another plane of existence."

"They kill themselves, you mean?" said Bod. He was about eight years old, wide-eyed and inquisitive, and he was not stupid.

"Indeed."

"Does it work? Are they happier dead?"

"Sometimes. Mostly, no. It's like the people who believe they'll be happy if they go and live somewhere else, but who learn it doesn't work that way. Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. If you see what I mean."

(The Graveyard's Book, Neil Gaiman)




And I realized I have no choice. I was born, nonetheless. I am existing here. I am alive. And all I could do was to decide what Im gonna do with the life and time I've been given. I have to decide and make choices I will regret the least.

It's okay to break down at times, right?

LET US DREAM

The thing is we are all gifted with the ability to dream.

We all see ourselves in a way beyond what we are now. We've been there. Standing in front of a mirror and see not what we are now but what we will be tomorrow. There is always a person there, staring back and smiling. As if reminding you how hard it is to reach what you will eventually reach if you never give up. As if telling you that hard work really pays off. As if whispering the words you too dream of hearing; I am so proud of what you've become. You can almost hear someone thanking you for your existence. That because of you someone persevere.

But there are also times when the person looking back at you is someone you knew well but doesn't want to see. Someone with big puffy eyes too tired to even explain what even going on. Someone wearing all the burden in the world inside that dark eye bags. Someone who's cheekbones become prominent from all the sleepless nights battling with demons whispering every ways of why it's impossible. It is these times when you feel like you just can't. You are so tired to even believe. And you will never get off this alive. The only thing you can do is give up and admit defeat. We are all afraid of failure. But not as much as the thought of being called one. Everyone feels like perfect. It is just you who the world is against of. It is just you who seems like there is no way but to surrender.

But I want to remind you that only those who give up are failures. It may be dark right now on where you are but it will be darker if you stay there. You have to remind yourself of what you want to become even if it feels nothing. You have to gather all the strength left in you to see the image again, of that better person in the mirror that you want to stare back at you someday, even if its blurred. What people around you says doesn't matter. All their encouragements are nothing if you stop believing that you will make it. I believe that eveything we need is in all that we are. We are all capable of greatness. It is born with us but like every organs in our body we have to take care of it.

We are all capable of reaching our dreams. This is one quality that makes us beautiful. And what are we if we don't have them? What it is to live for?

I just want to remind you how beautiful you are. And yes, be even more beautiful. Reach your dreams.

NOVEMBER 1

Its been almost two years since I last walked the graveyard where the physical body of my sister lies. Almost two years. Almost two years my career did hinder me a visit.

It was a refreshing day. The weather was warm. Thin clouds cover the sky and the wind blows cold. It even rains before we left the house. It was a perfect day for a visit. This year, my other sister's career made her unable to be with us since she was on duty that morning. So it was just me and my parents. We retraced the path of the graveyard with an emotion I know we all share but I couldn't name of. I walked behind them, watching as they took every careful steps that will lead us to her resting place. My mother holding my father's arm tight.

It was always with comfort to visit her during this season. The graveyard was packed with people. Families are gathered around tombs. Everyone was dresssed in gray or white clothes. Loud party music are prohibited. No burst of laughters can be heard. It is comforting to know that we are not the only one who lose someone dear to us. That death was fair in making each of us suffer because we are the ones left behind. I traveled the path to her tomb slowly. My mind drifted to the times I've been there. Head lifted and eyes looking forward to see that fuschia pink piece rectangular shaped stone. I suddenly become aware that I feel naked. As if everyone can see through me. As if everyone knows I lose my youngest sister five years ago. Five years ago, we were with relatives and friends. Five years ago, they still remember what we lose to that place and swore with us to never forget, to always remember that she too once lived with us. It was just five years. But it seems like we are the only one left to remember her. Six hours in that place and yet no one we knew came to visit her. Her friends stopped visiting us too, two years ago. Everyone felt like they've move on.

It is funny how I imagine her sitting with us during that day. Listening to me talking to our parents about relatives. Seeing how old our parents are now. My father enthusiastically repaints the letters of her name with gold acrylic. I imagine her hitting my father's head. Did she notice how our parents are now? Or how I look with my haircut? Did she felt too the way we learned to accept that we can never be whole again, not until the day we see her again? I imagine Bod too, a character from Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book. I imagine all the souls in that graveyard. I imagine how they must have felt being with the ones they love and seeing how time changes them. What must these souls feel like when they realized that time stopped changing them while their love ones grew old. White hair noticeable in every strand, their skin gets a little darker or whiter, small ones grew more height, even the way they talk change. Did all the souls in here felt a pang of pain too? Knowing they will never be able to tell the ones they love everything they want to? Not yet now. Maybe tomorrow.

Five years of not being with my youngest sister also changes me. The idea of dying doesn't seem to scare me for all these years. There is nothing to be afraid of. She will be waiting there on the other side. But the stories. I have to live for the moment so we will have many things to talk for eternity. This is what I realized under the sky beside her tomb. For you, my love, I will keep on living.

LEFT BEHIND

The Reasons I gave up

I have told you I like you but the truth is that I told myself that I love you.

You're angry with me. Not only because I cut all our ties but because I gave up on you easily. I let you go after seeing that picture of you with another girl and hearing rumors. I didn't even asked for your explanation. I didn't even said goodbye.

You're one of the good things that happened to me this year.

You're maybe stupid, careless, immature and all but I don't care. You know I don't care. I love you and I thought that with you we can be better persons. You and I, together. How many times did you waste my time? How many times did you say you wouln't do what I don't want you to do but do it anyway after? Do you remember the things I brushed off because you're stubborn and doesn't know how to ask for forgiveness? Despite all, I have forgiven you over and over because that's how I know how to love. That's how people who loves me do. That's how I believe love is.

But I despise people who promises things they didn't mean. It was one of your quality that I couldn't trust. And trust in love is everything. Tell me now love, what happened to you after promising me that I'll be the one? What happened after the night you held my hand tight and swear that you're going to love me from here and now? How in the world could you just... just forget that? How could you touch my soul and leave me behind... as easy, as simple like that? You didn't even try to prove yourself. You didn't ask if I'm hurt. You just left me asking the universe why. As if I don't amount to anything. As if I'm not worthy to stay. Despensable. Ordinary. Like I can be replace just... just like that.

Maybe you never love me at all.

Maybe I was just deluding myself that our feelings are mutual. Maybe you were trying to tell me that you're sorry you made me feel special and you're about to leave me all these times but I failed to listen. I failed to notice the hints. Its just not right. I am not the right person for you. I thought I am. For heaven's sake, I thought I am.

But this will be the last piece I'm going to write for you. I have to keep moving. No matter what I have to move and keep living. I owe stories for my little sister. We will one day meet again and I have to tell her all the things I did with my life. I will tell her how you broke my heart and then I have to tell her what I become after you did and I wish its all for the better. This will be the last piece that will be about you and I want you to be happy. I want us to be happy. Separately.

BROKENHEART

Starfish,

Hi! How are you? These were the words we used to exchanged during our chats. Simple, but your name alone appearing in my phone screen's--just the fact that you're reaching out to me-- enough to make my heart skip a beat.

You are not from my league. You were not born and raised the way I have been. You only have your abusive father to raise you and the reality that your autistic brother is far from you. You didn't go to college and you don't have a stable job. You earn for a month what I do for a week. You have bad eating manners and your socializing skills sucks. But those things never became an issue for me because you were the first guy who was able to make me feel like a girl. You were the first person to make me see the things you swear you saw in me. You chat me in the most uncomfortable hours just to say you wish me a great day ahead and that if I ever need anything, you will always be there for me. You knew I am not someone who relies on others. You knew that I have live my life and survive this far by not expecting from anyone and yet, you always assured me that if I ever needed anything, you will always be there. I guess you will never know what it really feels like holding on to that words. You will never truly know how those words wound me now. We dated a couple of times and we always held hands. I never held any guy's hand before and I was surprise myself how it feels. It made me feel like I owe you that feeling. It's not everyday that another person can make you feel like... a woman.

We were so different. You like metal music while I prefer acoustic. You don't read manhua's while I'm screaming over it. From politics to simple dish in our dates, we have different taste. Its funny how you you captured my heart only with your long lashes and sincere words. Words, maybe I have fallen in love with your words. There are times when I swear, I could watch you all day do your stuffs and still admire you the same. Free me from this prison and yes, let me say that I love you.

I only found love twice my entire life and I have treasured it. It took me 9 years to moved on from my first love. Maybe that long because the universe knew that I am going to meet you. Love for me was divine. Its not something I can go experiment with to know what and when will be my limitations. I have only one heart and I thought that by protecting it all my life, I will be able to give you something no one can give you. My love for you exceeds that I am willing to give you my heart whole. All of it spoiled, all of it unbroken and strong.d

We had an agreement. I said that you will have me after a year. Just give me a year to prepare myself to be own. You know how I'm too strong willed and independent. It's not going to be fair to you if I accept you now then find you possessive later and break things with you. I never dated you for a petty relationship, and this embarrass me so much to admit but I plan on marrying you. Yes, I assumed that much. I have daydreams of you meeting my family and friends. You will find my mother too obsess in me. She may not like you at first. She may question how you're going to spoil me (I have live my life not in luxury but we always have more) but I can assure you that she's a good person. You have forgotten how it feels like to have a mother and with mine, I had hopes that you will feel complete again. My father too may not approve you. He had three daughters. Daughters. He was the only man in our lives and having someone to share with me now, of course, what will you expect of his reaction. But I am so sure you will like my sister. She was me in so many ways yet we're different. I can't say she will like you too but remember the first time we met? I didn't like you then. I will bring you to my other sister's graveyard. Something I will never do to another human being. I will let you meet her. I will let you talk to her. I don't know if she will like you because I remember her expecting someone like an overrated handsome and wealthy guy for me before, but I'm just going to say that I love you anyway. Knowing her, she will approve of you nonetheless. It's a happy thought isn't it? Me, sharing my life with you, building another with you. I am preparing myself for this. We are not getting any younger and because I'm the girl I should be the one to do all this. Yes, tease me all you want but I have fallen in love with you this much.

But this morning I saw a picture of you with someone else. A girl of my age maybe. I don't know, she looks a year or two younger than me. She's pretty. Our friends say she's adorable and they all approve of her. The two of you being a couple were a big news for everyone. Your friends congratulate you and she is so happy if I am on her shoes it maybe feels like I will fly. Don't think that I was totally surprise. I saw this coming for months now when I see your public conversations but, you know, defense like thing, I deny the probability of it. You promise me that you will wait for me. You promise me that I will be the only one from now on, that you wouldn't look into another girl the way you look to me and that after a year of giving me what I ask you of, we will be together. Now I know all of that was a lie.

You broke my heart. The heart I am going to give you whole, was now in pieces.

Why? Is it because you find me quite cunning? Maybe I like to do things on my own that much that I made you feel like I don't need you. But I am already sharing to you the things that bothers me at night. I am looking to you now to care for me, things I have never ever ask from anyone before. Why? Is it because she's prettier? But you're the type not to care about physical appearance. You care whether a person is interesting or not. You said so yourself. Maybe that was it, maybe she's too interesting that you couldn't help yourself at all. I couldn't blame you. I am boring. I am not worth at all. But why? Isn't my heart not enough? I know I'm not the girlfriend material girl but I can learn that. Everything I have now are the results of my patience to learn. I can learn how to be interesting too. If you would give me... if you would reconsider your decision...

I can't believe how I sound so selfish now. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I couldn't blame you. This is my fault. I expected. I expected you to love me the way I love you. I allow myself to love you. I have destroyed the walls I carefully built for years and allowed you to hurt me. When I think of it, you didn't really hurt me at all.  I hurt myself because I let my heart go beat unguarded. This is exactly why I grew doubtful of people. You think your words are easy but for me they came from your heart. And because I think like that, I thought every single one of them is sincere and true. I thought I can believe them. I thought I can believe you.

But you don't have to feel guilty now, my Starfish. After everything, I am still grateful to you. Thank you for the admiration you showed me. I never thought I'm beautiful until you said I am. Thank you for the nights you hold my hand tight. Thank you for being there. Thank you that for quite some time, you made me feel good waking up at any time of the day. Thank you because you're you.  Did I regret meeting you? No. If there is another lifetime, I hope I can meet you again. We'll be friends. Only friends. But now, I can't offer you that. I will be busy trying to fix the broken pieces of myself. I would like to be alone for the days to come. I would like to find myself again.

I love you, you know. And it hurts me that it doesn't go the way I like it to go. I learned now that there are things I wouldn't be able to plan. There are things that just wouldn't go even if I dedicate myself to it. It will hurt me for years yes, the way you hurt me, I will remember it bitterly. But rest assured that I will be strong and move on. Know in your heart that it's okay, that as we don't get to choose who we love, we also don't get to choose who hurts us. I will be strong and I will feel the pain until it hurts no more.

I hope the both of you will be happy. We only have one life. Let's have a good one.

Elsa, 2016

p.s In case you're wondering, I really do hope I will never see you again. *Laugh out loud*

THE KIND PERSON

All my life I have always believed that what you reap is what you sow. You smile to the world and the world will smile to you. Do to others what you want themto do to you.

I have keep those words close to me as I grow older. I have abandon some of the teachings that my parents and teachers taught me but not these golden rules. Everyday I go out in the world, those were the words I have in mind and those were what I use to interact with people. "Treat others fair, and they will treat you fair."

But everyday, the world seems to be doing its best to prove me wrong. It is an unfair world. Cruelty is a just reaction in a cruel this place.

You treat others with kindness just as you want others to treat you but some people just make you feel like you're the worst person they've ever knew existed. Yes, there are these days when people just don't feel like being kind and you have to accept it and understand them because maybe tomorrow they'll feel better and they will say nice things to you but... what about the damage you already received from the other day? What about the insults you already heard because people just feel bad about themselves and it's their way of coping with what they feel? Does everyone like me who still see the world as a good a place despite the fact that evil is here should just sit tight and accept that we are the ones who understand and therefore remain forgiving? I wonder how long would I still be kind after every hurt I received from the people around me. Words are weapons. If the cuts they give were only visible, maybe I'll walk around each day covered in bandages--still smiling like a fool.

The saying that humans can easily forgot that others are human too hasn't struck me hard before as it is now. The world is full of motherfucking bastards who easily forgot that what hurts them can also hurt others. That the same words that can humiliate them can also humiliate others. The world has its way of making you one of its own, and if you're not careful, you will one day wake up believing that you are better than anyone else. You will forget the old sayings about being kind. You will find your heart as cold as a desert at night and before you know it, you are already looking in the mirror and see that the person looking back at you became the person you once hated most.

But there is hope for us.

We can remain the person we want to be by always, always being who we are. Treat others like you want them to treat you. Be fair with no exception but keep in mind that this world isn't and never expect it to be. Forgive them. Every day, wake up, breath deeply and tell yourself that strength and power isn't measured by how high you are above others but how you remain true to who you are after all the cuts you received from every fucking assholes you encounter yesterday. Be gentle, Believe in all things good. Make the world a better place.  Yes, no one will build a statue for you, give you an Oscar's for being the kindest person ever walk this earth or cannonize you and name you a saint, but at least, you will die yourself. The world and its people will fail making you one of its own. You will die with a smile in your face knowing that you defeated the world. And I guess there is no way of dying I will wish other than that.

RE:THE ORIGINALS CAMI'S DEATH

Of all the death scenes I've read and watched in my entire fangirl life, Camille O' Conell (Cami)--a main character in The Originals series, has the most realistic, heart wrenching and unforgettable death of them all. The 5 minutes scene of her captures me so intensely that I feel like I have to analyze and  write it down so this emotion she made me feel will not be in vain.

Cami was actually one of my favorite character in the Originals. She was a human from the start, constantly believing that the world is not an awful place despite being hurt by others and witnessing instances when people continue to use people for their own good. She believes in life, in goodness and in the need of everyone to have their own choice. Then she bacame a vampire (she despised this the most because it rob her of her ability to die on her own).
She showed some I've-changed moments but deep inside, she triumphs in being true to herself. Then came the enemy of the love of her life (Niklaus Mikaelson). This was the turning point as she becomes a casualty of the Mikaelson's war.



Excerpt. The Originals Season 3 Episode 19.

Klaus: Some demons will not be tamed.

Cami: Maybe we should do the best we can and never give up. (Almost fainting) I'm tired.

Klaus: Camille...

Klaus: It's funny, I know we're so different... I feel like I've always known you. Maybe its because I've been in your mind, or maybe that's just how you know you love someone.

Klaus: I do love you, you know.

Cami: I thought you're gonna tell me that tomorrow. I really don't have another tomorrow do I? Then why is the people, will you make them go away?

Klaus: Your heart is slowing, but it still beats, you're fighting, because you want to live.

Cami: I wanted to be brave. I want to handle this with dignity, but i can't, I don't want to go, I'm so scared.

Klaus: I'm here, I'm here.

Cami: So much for the brave bartender huh. When I said I was ready to die I was so full of it.  Oh, I just wish I had done more than serve a few drinks and... completely use of your therapist,

Klaus: Don't you think for a moment that you failed me. You stayed my hand, quelled my rage, you inspired goodness in me and unlike all of the souls I encountered and forgotten in the long march of time, I will carry you with me.

Cami: Guess that makes me immortal.

Cami: Do you know the bible verse when John's head was struck?

Klaus: The light shines in  the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.

Cami: I was never naive enough to believe that I was your light, but there's light in you. All the cycle of abuse that Mikael began, you can end it. You have to. So you can be the light for your little girl. For Hope.




Klaus: Do not be afraid. You go now, while many have gone before you and even I will go in time, just now there will be no more pain, no more heartbreak. You, will find peace.

It was so real I cried many times as I replayed it. And it was so ideal I wish my death will be like this.

Ideal? Maybe because although I believe death is something we must all face alone, we need someone by our side during our final hour. Someone who will kiss us goodbye. Someone who will be brave for us when we finally forgot what bravery and courage means.

Cami was so honest when she said that she already made her peace with dying and that she wanted to be brave, but she was so scared. We always say that we are not adraid to die. I wonder what kind of fear will I experience in the face of death and I guess its not dying itself we are really afraid of. Cami admits that she wish she could have done more and I realize that that was the very thing we fear. We fear that we have not done enough with our lives. We fear to realize that we wasted it. We fear that there is so much to do and we will not be able to do it anymore. We silently beg for more years but we know there is no more years. I think that is really scary. But Klaus assured her, saying she had not for once failed him and he reminded her of the things she had done. We will all need someone like that, will we? Someone who will remind us of how great we are, how much our lives occupied the lives of the people who meant the world to us and even the small wonderful things about us,  things we can easily forgot during the worst times. And finally, someone who will promise us that we will not be forgotten. "...and unlike all the souls I encountered and forgotten in the long march of time, I will carry you with me." Oh sweet heavens, is that what we all want? Isn't oblivion the scariest thing there is? Isn't the thought of being forgotten what makes death not a topic you would discuss with your friends? But in that scene, Klaus promising that he will never forget was what comforts Cami. She settles in the thought that there was nothing to be afraid of. She will die in the arms of the man she loved. If that isn't the sweetest thing, I don't know what is.

Cami's last moment was her turn to remind Klaus that there is light in him and that he should be the light for his daughter. I imagine my death. I hope that when it comes, I will be able to tell the people I love to keep on living. To live and be the guiding life to others. And that we will meet again. If we can still be who we are in the afterlife, I hope we will meet again.

This scene is so beautiful, I'm in tears as I ponder on this.

I never think death as a topic I should keep silent about. Some say that death is the end of life, that there is nothing in it but darkness. I always think otherwise. I've witness far more deaths in my profession than an average person is allowed, and you know what it taught me? Every death is unique and meaningful. It screams silently but oddly you can hear it well. It's trying to say a thousand words at the same time and you can understand it well. Death would come for us sooner or later and it's something we should look forward to. Its only in knowing that we will eventually die that I believe we can really live a life.

I don't want to forget how this one fictional scene made me feel. And I am happy. I am happy that I am a girl I can be proud of. Yes, I am living between the pages of the books I read, in the scenes I watched and inside the world I've written. Fiction is more real to me than this world. And I am not ashame of it.