Toucher le ciel.

Let your dreams flow, reach for the sky, and aim for the moon, my friend.

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Look at all those titles and bookworms! The 35th Manila International Book Fair! (at SMX Convention Center)

Look at all those titles and bookworms! The 35th Manila International Book Fair! (at SMX Convention Center)

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Comfort zone. Expected, the place from our past, the state that we took for granted the most. That wee small hour of the morning when your parents wait up for you worrying, or when they cook you breakfast the next day forgetting the night before. That day when you just have a bum time with your pals, waiting for the next school day to come, playing poker and such. That afternoon where you scold your brothers because of a petty thing, maybe because of clothing torn or pizza half-eaten.

Yes, sometimes bright, sometimes boring, but that is WHERE your heart is. That is WHEN your heart is.

Acceptance. Accept that those days are over. Accept that you are cornered at this four-cornered office. Waiting the time pass-by, being busy, being furious, being defeated, and sometimes just as succesful. Accept that where you go to sleep for now is a small room, with trikes blaring for an alarm. Accept that you are having struggles now, that your heart is aching to go back to the days, to go back to a warm bed, to go back where food is already been served, to go back to kulit your parents when you get home.


It is now. Your present. You’re here. You’re breathing. Days are different, nights are different, everything is different. Still, comfort zones were not instant comfy zones…they were made. Made by memories, by moments, by putting your heart in a safe place. It is created. A new comfy zone. New friends, who bums you, who scolds, who you have arguments with. A girlfriend, who loves you,who cares for you, and kisses you, and having new routines with, a new face to kiss. This is your new comfort zone. This is beautiful as it is.

This is where God put you.

It may be ephemeral, maybe a new comfort zone is coming soon, maybe this is crumbling as we speak. For now, enjoy it. Frolic in these memories, in these moments, in this state where you put your heart safely into. Breathe, breathe, and smile. Queue a movie song, hum, eat a doughnut.

Look around, it ain’t that bad. ;)

Filed under personal life

8 notes

A reason why I love her.

No one heartfully nor totally embraces singlehood, baby. God made one for another one. The heart always yearns for someone, whether it's a rampant scream or a continuous subtle whisper.
True. But check priorities in life. One has to find oneself while not being with someone. You have to master yourself first, before you can be somebody else's. That somebody has to compliment you, not complete you. Easiest way, find who God wants you to be. Everything tags along.

Filed under Katrine

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Anonymous asked: You write beautiful, so true. So sad, why not you be the one to love?

Maybe one day. When I find my quintessential one.

7 notes

Take care of her for me. Take her out spontaneously. Be the one to drag her to a random cafe, she loves them, their calmness, their ambiance, She will order tea, though in her heart, coffee still lingers. Preferably a tall glass of frappuccino to satisfy her ever-present sweet tooth. Order a side of cake or pie or both even, she is not picky as long as it’s chocolate or blueberry cheesecake or that guilt-free pie from CBTL. Take her to that Magnum pop-up cafe, she will have that weirdly-cute pleasure face on when she takes a bite of food bliss.

Take care of her. She loves naps so ready your shoulder for an all-nighter. She will also drool on them, and she will eventually snore on your ear. Be naturally patient when she is sleep-drunk, she almost always is. She sacrifices sleep for her loved ones, her family. Do not be offended when she passes out when you two are watching your personal favorite TV show, she tries to stay awake, I swear.

Take care of her for me. She laughs hysterically, whether those little corny jokes or big vehement ones. Her laugh is like a witch’s, it can be heard two offices or more away. Her eyes also becomes like her lovely Mother’s when it happens.

Take care of her. She speaks German fluently. Her pronunciation of girl, twirl, whirl, or any r-l combo will make you giggle when you notice it. It becomes cute when she tries to correct her already perfectly sexy speech.

Take care of her for me. This is important. You NEED to carry her baggage or bag around. She needs it even when she says she does not need your help. It stresses her fragile back, her very fragile back. May it be one, two, three luggage, plus her groceries for a week. And please, give her piggy-back rides now and then, she completely adore them. It will be worth it, I promise.

Take care of her for me, bub. Take her to a bookstore. Her paradise is Fully Booked High Street. A heavenly-place for book-lovers. Sit with her in the carpet, stay silent when she is browsing. Yes, there is a Starbucks there, reserve the couch in front of the cashier, the one facing the window to Serendra. She likes that spot.

Take care of her for me. Notice the little things. Purple is her favorite color, she is a comic book geek, and boots are her temptation. She loves Superhero movies, especially Captain America. She loves chocolate, maybe a wee bit better than Ube Halaya. Did I tell you that she is a monster for dessert?

Take care of her for me, sir. Because I won’t…anymore. After this, I am stepping out. Letting it all crash down, letting it all fade instantly as the last period is typed. Take care of her for me cause the final good bye was uttered. Take care of her because you love her. Take care of that angel for me. Love that angel for me. Forever.

Filed under personal love

4 notes

Hi, thirty-year old self.

I don’t know what to say really, I don’t even know why I decided to write you this letter. This is the younger you writing, the you who’s still struggling on how to do this adulthood bullcrap and whatnot, the you who’s still not afraid to take damned risks every single day, the you who’s still trying to be better physically, mentally, romantically, spiritually. The one who’s still trying to be somebody in this big city. You who’s still currently missing the family; Mama, Pops, brothers. You who’s still has trust issues and commitment issues and relationship issues, more issues than Runners magazine. Still afraid to say those sappy three words, but slowly, very slowly letting go of the crazy past. You who’s now pursuing a lady, a very special lady, not some random girl of the night. You who’s eating right. You who’s living the dreams of the kid ten years younger, you who’s still chasing the biggest dreams that this mind could imagine. You who’s still waiting for that spark of a right time to travel the world. You who’s still waiting for the time to say “I made it”.

I hope that you haven’t become one of those pompous bastards in suits chasing money 24/7, forgetting the truly important stuff. It would be cool that you work in sleek suits but still kind enough to share and give back everyday in some way; not forgetting to kiss Mama, Mommy, and Pops in the cheek. I hope that you now achieved the promise of becoming a lawyer. I hope that you are now planning to settle down with the love of our lives, the ladyfriend for a year, or two, or five, or eight, or nine. That beautiful one you wake up to every morning, that flower you come home to every single night, not trading her for the whole wide world, trying to make her genuinely smile everyday. Go and get her, tiger! Be decisive! I hope that you already have a home with a ridiculously good-looking kitchen and full pantry with all the spices and herbs and freshest produce that I can play with. I hope that you are now somebody and made a name for yourself. I hope that you traveled half of the world by now. I hope that you are still scheming, hustling, dreaming dreams on how to elevate our already awesome life. 

And self, don’t write anything to me. I do not want to know the future in an instant, I want to see it unfold in front of me, I want to see how good I could be, I want to see my limits broken, I want to learn by the way of adventure, I want to be ready ten years from now, I want to see how can I transition to be you. I still have a lot of things to say to you, but for now maybe this letter would do. Pray for me, and I will see you in the mirror after ten good years. Let’s have a drink then, shall we?

Yours truly,

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Leave your worries and doubts behind you. The darkest aspects of your past mean nothing to me, your skepticism and prejudices will dwindle in my world. Dry your river of tears, we will fly in the night sky with my old pair of wings. I want to show you that I am your wishes personified, I want you to know that I am the working man that will construct your heart into one again. Let me stop the bleeding, let me stop the hurting, let me show you how my grandma helped in this gentleman’s upbringing. I will make promises, but I would never break them. My own heart will wither if it won’t weather the challenge to solve your love. Fall in love with me, swim in my pool of wonder, celebrate life with me. I am worth the shot, the risk, the chance. You are worth the thoughts, the time, the heartbeats, and the pursuit.

Trust me. 

Far away, far away from all the troubles of this society brought you. Slowly, let me warm your heart. Hopefully, I can conquer your fears with you. If only I had a pair of angel’s wings, I would smuggle you to paradise. Flying, flying, let’s just flutter away. Leave your metaphorical baggage, leave what you do not want to remember, let’s just make new ones which you and I will treasure forever. I will stay right by your side when you need me, when you want me, or I will just be silent but still by your heavenly side. I am your Superman, let me save you, let me catch your fall in these arms of mine. I am your Spiderman, let me kiss you within the storm, your storm. Let me be your Cap’n America, an old school attitude that’s not just a facade to capture your heart. I can be any superhero or villain that you want me to be. Believe in fiction, believe in me, believe in love again.

Fly with me.

Filed under 3/2/2014

3 notes

Hold my hand, let’s swim, press play. Fall into the reveries of magical proportions, fall into the abyss of wander and wonder, fall into the quintessential bliss, my perfect bliss; an all-out high, an all out strike out, an all out affair. Yes, it is that time of that year again, yes, it is Valentine’s Day again. 

Swim, swim, swim through this day and night with the ease and grace of a neon light, create everlasting memories with the street lights. Know or don’t know what to feel, release the desire, try the passion, hit or miss, be or not to be. Bitterness has no place in the hearts of men and women tonight, sweetness is blatant in the warmth of chocolates dripping and drooling, just waiting to be eaten by those lovely lips. Ah, lovely indeed. Don’t wait for the flowers to disintegrate, depreciate, nor develop a hatred towards you. Smile, smile, smile.

The sense of  purpose, the sense of want to make a lady smile, the scent of romance. Try, try, try, nothing will matter tonight. Liberate, liberate, liberate the emotions. Transition, transition, transition to a 70’s jazz person in New York city café. If not, die in your own solitary confinement with nine cats and wait for the clock to strike 12:01. Cheers!

Filed under valentine's day love

2 notes

Running is more than a rush of footsteps upon concrete pavements, running is more than just the Adizeros or Nike Flyknits, running is more than just burning the fat out of your body, running is much, much, much more than just creating a new physique out of your old one. Running is more than just chicken boobs, the Gatorades, the nut butters, the bananas, or carbohydrates.
Running is freedom! The way the early morning wind brushes across my face, the way the moonlight shines upon my chosen path or trek for tonight’s seemingly long run. Running frees me of every single chain that binds me in this world, it lets me forget about a heartbreak or work-related strees ephemerally, more than an alcohol-induced frenzy could make. Running is euphoria, running is happiness in sweat. Running gives me that kind of bliss.
Runers, true runners, do not discriminate. Whether you’re a seven year old kid wanting to show off for your childhood sweetheart or a seven hundred year old man who still wants to feel alive, go! Whether you’re a skinny guy, a plus-sized still, or already achieved your goal body, go! Whethe your wearing the newest and the best running gear in the market today, whether you’re wearing basketball shoes, soccer shoes, slippers (ouch!), then goooo! Especially, whether one can run a 10-km trail in 20 minutes or a 10-km leisure jog in 20 days, go for it! Night or day, rain or sun, runners, true runners, never discriminate other runners.
Running creates a world out of mundane moments, where marathons and fun runs are prolific, where hillsides and streams are conquered one step at a time, where new focus, health, and heart surfaces. Running is a part of my life.I enjoy every second of it, and I adore it like lady.

Filed under running personal