Switch Off

I was busy reviewing a case when I noticed that my reading area had gotten dim. I thought either my eyes were getting tired, or there was someone hovering my area and covering the light. As it turns out, the fluorescent lamp nearest to me had just officially died, and unfortunately for me, the Maintenance Office claims to have no stored bulbs in its supplies. Tough luck. The light from my computer screen is not enough. This is torture for someone with poor eyesight and migraine.

On a lighter note, I just asked an officemate, who is a mother, to serve as an ‘ilaw ng tahanan’. Corny, but it made both of us laugh anyway.
Obstacles. Minor compared to what most are experiencing.
Like in most obstacles, I had two options. One, to dwell on this negativity, rant my head off, and succumb to whatever miserable state I was in. Or two, be more optimistic and claim that as soon as tomorrow (with fingers crossed), my ‘problem’ will have its solution.
There’s an obvious right choice. However, sometimes the obvious right choice is difficult and challenging to do, so I tend to do the other. I rant. I complain. I explode. Sometimes it solves the problem. Most often, it does not.
And that’s why I chose to do the right, more sensible thing. I feel good about it.
Fast forward to a few hours later. Here I am, in the dark again, stuck in the most terrible traffic, faced with yet another obstacle. I am tired. I am hungry. I have food, but I don’t want to eat here. I want to be home with family.
My driver, who’s probably already in his 70’s, seems more tired and much hungrier. He seems more anxious, too.
We talk. I offered him candies and some takeout food, which he happily accepted. He now has a smile on his face, and so do I.
One hour and thirty minutes (and counting) for what was supposed to be just a 20-minute ride home. Unless this car had long mechanical legs or wings, then I can’t do anything (rant, complain, blame myself for choosing the wrong day to run an errand), but wait and be patient.
Patience. My thoughts run back and forth to the fluorescent lamp (or the lack thereof) at the office and the decision to eat some of the takeout food that I have. Just a bit more, we’re moving. Slowly, but moving anyway.
I blink, and it’s not as dark anymore.
I’m home. ❤️



I gaze upon a bed of darkness

Only when I squint do I see a bit of twinkling

Each glitter a reminder of dreams and hopes

Each weak flicker whispering to take a firm grip and hold on.

I stretch and reach for one, as if it were near

I take hold and open my hand, and see nothing but tears

I blink only to lose sight of any light

I look and see the stars have bid farewell

And welcomed a new sunrise.

Dream On

I have very fond and vivid memories of pretending I was a market vendor when I was a little girl. I remember I would put on my mom’s heels, borrow her bag, and pretend I was selling fruits or vegetables, complete with baskets and ‘bilao’, toy food, and play money I made from paper. Of course, ‘this dream’ had a bit of an upgrade when after a few years, I wanted to become a cashier at Shoemart, no less.

As years passed, my dreams changed, from market vendor and cashier to a teacher, an office girl, and quite heavily, a writer and a newscaster. 

Almost everything I did in late gradeschool and most of highschool was directed towards achieving that dream. I joined the school paper, even if I felt I was not any good at it, and so many more were much better than I was. There was even a time I auditioned for a new children’s show – – – a kiddie version of TV Patrol. I passed all the preliminary stages – – – exam, interviews, but fumbled in the VTR where we were made to read the news in Filipino. Weeks before my audition, I practiced reading newspapers in English in front of my parents and of a mirror, but had not anticipated that, for crying out loud, I was auditioning for a Filipino newscast. It remains a good story to tell though, except a friend of mine thinks differently, and would rather tell a story of me competing against and losing to Aiza Seguerra in Little Miss Philippines on Eat Bulaga. A story, which although untrue and made up, is oddly more convincing to most than my audition. 

College was a different story. I saw myself pursuing teaching instead of chasing after my dreams. As much as I love teaching now, clearly it wasn’t my first love. I flunked my entrance exam in UP, and was waitlisted in UST. (Surprise. I was never a good student.) Since I didn’t want to risk not being able to get into UST, I decided to take my second choice – – Education, with the hopes of shifting to my desired course, Broadcasting and Journalism, during my sophomore year. But as fate would have it, after we were made to observe a preschool class during freshman year, I decided to stay on, and the rest, as people say, was history.

I spent twelve years teaching, and completely forgot about my first love. Yet again, fate had its way, with me getting burnt out from my twelve year routine. I needed to do something else, something I lost time for – – – writing. 
I do not regret the path I have journeyed on in the past years. I loved every year I devoted to teaching, and I feel that I will always be a teacher, no matter what. But right now, I feel like I should be doing this, something I should have done years before, to pursue my dreams and take all the necessary steps in attaining it. It doesn’t even have to be something grand. All I hope to do is live my dream, and share it. I want to write, so I do; I want to touch lives and inspire with my words, that, I hope to do. “I have but a small voice; I have but a small dream,” as my favorite Lea Salonga song goes.

Juvenile as it may seem, I have recently committed to keeping a blog and compiling everything I write. I’ve kept countless notebooks in the past, filled with essays that I never got to finish, so now, more importantly, I’ve committed to writing every day and finishing what I write. 

We all have dreams. Some we achieve; Others we do not. Some take longer than the others to be attained; Others require that we go through bumpy roads; Most we set aside, or worse, forget. Do not forget. Take baby steps if you must, but don’t forget. It only gets wasted if it’s ignored, or forgotten, so keep keeping on. Follow your heart, and go where your feet will take you. Believe.

Blindfolded Cupid

Aim that arrow at me now

Hit me right on target

And make me bow

Cast your love spell

Break this shell

Make me fall in love

And help me get out of this dark miserable well.

Then aim that arrow at him now

Hit him right on target

And make him bow

Pave the way for us to see

That we were meant to be together

— him and me.


Take that initial baby step

You’ve got to begin somehow

So go ahead

Opportunity knocks at your doorstep

Despite the fears and hesitation

Make that leap with your eyes wide-open

And watch everything unfold and happen

Be present



Here’s your chance to make a difference

Dreams are finally becoming true

Worry not, go

Push through.


Heart beats faster,

A ready smile always on my face,

Adding an extra spring in my usual pace.

Amazing power one person has

In providing me the solace I need.

The spell you have on me,

The magic that you bring

I drown in the feeling —

Oh, love…

I love at your bidding.


I used my lunch break to walk around our building and get a breath of fresh air. And fresh air I got, at least for the first few minutes, right before I was chanced upon by one of the office’s legal officers. His concern was simple, but fairly old to me. He finds it “off” how their drafts are being edited, “over and over”. I felt that saying drafts are being edited “over and over” is an exaggeration, but I tried my best to explain and appease him. I, however, was not really given much chance to do that, so nothing was clarified or resolved in that encounter. Too bad.

Some people were not really very welcoming and happy with the idea that someone is tasked to edit or proofread their works. It does not help either that this someone has no Law background, whatsoever. I have found myself a subject of legal officers’ ire and complaints, and to a point, one of the people (reasons) they actually held rallies for. Thus has been the case since I started work here, and this is even after it was explained and agreed upon why someone like me had to be hired in the first place.

Their lack of acceptance makes my job a bit difficult, for whatever I do, no matter how great I am at what I do, there will always be some people who will despise me for it, and even curse the day they met me.

I understand the resentment though. To most after all, it is difficult to receive and take criticisms; to be corrected, particularly by someone, whom you may feel, is inferior to you. I understand that much, so I go through every day with much caution and an open mind, but I still do my job, and every day, make sure I do it well, regardless of the hate I’ve been getting.

But do we honestly have to take every single criticism, every bit of correction negatively? Shouldn’t we take these as opportunities for growth and learning instead? If there was acceptance, wouldn’t that be a much better place to live in — filled with butterflies, flowers, and unicorns? Dream on, girl.

I go through every day with a fervid hope that one of these days, these people will realize that what I do is merely my job; that nothing should be taken personally, and that at the end of the day, we are all in this as a team with a common goal which is to speed up the resolution of cases without compromising quality for our clientele, the farmers.

I hope for that much, not exactly a world filled with just the good stuff, but at least, respect and a bit of consideration — acceptance and being one.

Oh well. Next time, I’m going to think twice about walking around our building. Or at least, do my lunch break reflection and walk on some other area.

C’est la vie.