Fluorescent Adolescent

Remember when the boys were all electric?

I sit here with a newfound love for this song.

As I was going through one of the earlier playlists that I like, Uppers, I realise that 2022 has been a crawl and I’m not even talking about the macroenvironment. I find it absolutely outstanding that so many things happened over the course of a year like – moving flats (again.), going on a couple of dates, helping my mother get a job, helping my rabbit give birth, letting go of some of my rabbits, my sister graduating and getting a job, becoming friends again with E, falling out – just so many things that I failed to journal because of the roller coaster I was on.

Now I’m settling down into a new flat, working on my career, and working on reentering the social scene, and maybe pursuing my travel plans next year. I still dream of my life from two to three years ago every now and then because sometimes maybe I peaked then but I believe that there will be many more peaks and troughs in life. So I look back at my life from the end of 2018 to mid-2021 fondly.

In terms of my romantic life, well, love will find me again. I didn’t look for it then, and I won’t look for it now.



A Eulogy

I just learned yesterday that my aunt died and was cremated in a span of two days from covid-19. She is one of the many casualties brought about by the pandemic as unfortunate as it sounds. Her death was not in defiance of getting a vaccine shot but because of a pre-existing hereditary autoimmune disorder or, disorders. I am unsure of how many conditions she was suffering outside of that one hereditary condition that I know of but she died because she was discouraged to get the vaccine.

Why is this important?

I was supposed to write an essay about why I like people like Dalinar and Jasnah and my view on today’s society but an intermission is needed to give respect to my aunt. As much as I would like to say and make fun of the fact that I experienced two deaths and a breakup over the last three years, I cannot. It is not me, July. It is you. I kid.

(Yes, my grandmother died 2nd of July.)

As a eulogy of some sort, I would like to give a brief speech in honour of my aunt. She was a lovely woman who had all kinds of ailments afflicting her though those never stopped her from going on to living life as best as she could. My aunt was a woman of character and integrity. Although life dealt her a rather poor hand, she worked hard while taking care of her siblings, standing in as a third parent while my grandparents worked the field and as a cook and as a homemaker once field duty is done. I am sure that my mother has learned a lot from her as she was her stewardess, growing up. Having said that, my aunt, as a result, was never able to travel the world as far as I know, and I am pretty sure that the desire is there but even so, she never once moaned about it. I do believe that there is strength in being content and happy with your portion.

In this, I would like to thank her for teaching me how to live contentedly and simply by the way of her lifestyle. She cared for what she had and appreciated, loved and welcomed people to her home. In my memories, I know my aunt to be generous as she gave what she can and she was generous with herself.

Last but not the least, I would like to thank her for encouraging my love for mangoes. You see, my aunt’s husband works as a mango farmer and every summer that my family and I would visit, when those bright and happy, yellow fruits, reminiscent of the sun, are routinely plucked from the trees, he would bring basket loads back to their home. Some baskets were selected to be sold to the market and some baskets were to be distributed among the family.

Whenever we would visit her home, she would whip out her blender and have one of her sons go to the nearby sari-sari store to buy enough ice to fill a standard ice box and cans of condensed and evaporated milk. As we wait for them to return, we would watch as she and my mother cut and scoop out mango flesh while setting aside the middle part which contained the seed. I remember vividly how deftly they would do this while catching up, barely looking down; a mark of how often they used to do this that it has become muscle memory.

Once my cousin comes back with the goods and the container is filled to the brim with a mountain of mango flesh, the ingredients were simply scooped together into the blender. No strict measurements were needed, just enough mango, ice and a ratio of condensed and evaporated milk depending on the people who are going to drink it. Sometimes, the tv is playing in the background but more often than not, the blender whirs with the chirping of cicadas, the clucking of chickens and the chatting of people. It was loud, yes, but there is comfort in the familiar. After what seems like an eternity, you are handed a glass of that beautiful golden, thick drink and all of a sudden, you find respite from the unforgiving heat. I do not know if my memory is serving me wrong but when it comes to my smoothie, she knew how I like my drink on the tarter side.

I finally realise why other countries’ mangoes just do not do it for me and have stayed far from those only until recently upon realising that maybe it is better to eat some than none at all? It is because Philippine mangoes are one of many cornerstones of my childhood and it is undoubtedly tied to summers in Pangasinan, the province of chargrilled milkfish,puto, salt and mangoes – my birthplace.

It has been many years since the last mango smoothie and it has been many years since we last saw and talked with each other in person but know that you will be missed, Auntie Auring.

I pray that wherever you are, you are finally getting some well-deserved rest.



I’m Taking Back My Heart

Goodbye, I think that was the last word that I also sent many months ago. I am doing my best not to be another David Mitchell and many million others as I know we will never see each other again.

I will eventually get there but unlike what David did, which was walking and working, I am just crossing stuff off of my 100 goals list. It is like a crossword and I must admit, it is pretty fun.

This is the end of the road, this is where we part

You can keep all your memories but I’m taking my heart

I was lured into every word you speak. Yeah when I was young you could tie my tongue and weaken my knees but the lines been drawn and I’m moving on, and another boy will come along so I’m taking back my heart for me.

– Taking Back My Heart – Rusty Clanton (original)
Oh man, I feel old this was part of my early twenties. Haha!

A Ghost

What are the chances of seeing someone again, your ex, after you have parted ways? I don’t know and I don’t want to know but it almost gave me a fright when a man of similar height and build, with wavy almost-curly sandy blond hair peeking out through a black Adidas cap clothed with a non-descript baggy white shirt and black denim shorts that fall just above the knee, passed me by on an escalator going up to Wanchai Computer while I was on my way down.

It was one of the most bizarre encounters yet because I have been seeing people who have a likeness to him but not to that point of resemblance. All I could think about was “Why are here? I’m already going to therapy for PTSD and PTSD-induced anxiety because you left so please don’t come back just to haunt me. Go away, thanks.”

It sounds funny but it’s a horrifying experience – to live in fear of constantly being vigilant so that at the sight of him, I can run away. Laugh all you want at my flight response but I don’t ever want to undergo and relive the experience of the betrayal of him choosing friends and his vices over me. Six, Seven months of just pure hopelessness and endless rumination, what-ifs, what did I do wrong? Am I not good enough? Did I not give enough? Did I not love enough? If it’s because of my financial situation, I’m in a better place now. I told you I’d get out of it, I just needed a little time.

So why?

Like I said before, I’ll probably never know the answer that’s why it’s best to not think about especially since it’s a major trigger and the mere thought of it sends me crying for a solid half-hour and sad for several days.

So please, don’t haunt me. Don’t come back and don’t think of me either. Maybe many, many years into the future but not now;.




A friend of mine introduced me to the band called Elbow and I fell in love with their song titled, “Starlings”. I swore off listening to love songs because it makes me wistful but I heard that song enthusiastically recommended by a friend and now, I can’t stop listening to it. I love songs like Starlings because one, it’s a song that’s layered musically (the strings plus the brass, ugh) and two, it’s a song that invokes imagery. Listening to it makes me giggle like a schoolgirl because it reminds me of an awkward meeting between two people who eventually fall in love and AAGHHHHHHHH, it reminds me of my roommate’s grandparents’ love story or my parents’ love story.

It makes me hopeful that maybe, just maybe, I’ll be with someone who’s wonderful and loves and cherishes me as much as I love and cherish them. Someone I can talk to about anything and someone to do the day to day and adventures, big or small, with. You know, that cheesy, normal stuff.

On this dreary winter evening, I sit on my temporary bed, curating my wedding playlist because why not?

So my wedding playlist so far (that I can remember):

  • Frankie Valli – Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You
  • Everly Brothers – Devoted to You
  • Everly Brothers – Let It Be Me
  • Elbow – Starlings
  • Arctic Monkeys – Baby, I’m Yours
  • Rex Orange County – Pluto Projector
  • Atlantic Starr – Always
  • Birdtalker – My Lover

I think two of those songs were introduced by my ex but I love those songs regardless. Four of those on the list have been there for as long as I can remember and then Elbow and Birdtalker are recent additions.

Maybe it’s Christmas, maybe it’s the talk of Witcher S2 but I’m feeling a little nostalgic but I can’t wait to see how mine would unfold.