I once read somewhere that being able to write is being able to convey one’s authentic voice and nothing less. That being said, the writer is at his best when he is writing with his heart and soul, and not simply with his brain and hands.

I’ve decided to write about writing because I believe writing is one of our simple pleasures in life. Everyone has a voice and while I believe that voice can be expressed by vibrating the hollow structure that lies just anterior to the throat, it must also be a highly recognized fact that utilizing the heart and the soul in wielding the mighty pen and paper is also a great way to express our voice.

It’s wonderful that everyone has a chance at writing, but at the same time it’s a bit disappointing that most people would overlook this beautiful opportunity. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t one of those people who disregarded writing and automatically labelled it as a “geeky, outdated, and boring pursuit.” I see now that writing is so much more than that. Writing takes you to places you’ve never been to before, to adventures you’ve only ever imagined. Writing is a way to dissociate from reality and maybe at the same time it serves as your only link to what’s real. Writing, as from what I’ve recently read, is as close to magic as you’ll ever get.

Writers have different points of view on a very wide array of topics that could range from either love to death, joy to sorrow, or hardships to success. I may not be as well-versed a writer as Ernest Hemingway or Charles Dickens, but I am just as valiant because I chose to let myself be heard through my words. Writing may seem tough at first, but once you start there’s just no telling when you’ll stop. Everything just comes naturally and easily like breathing or walking with your feet or peeing.

It’s a well-known fact that people use up only about 10% of their brain juice on a day-to-day basis so why should we waste it on much trivial pursuits such as flipping TV channels endlessly or mindlessly staring at a monitor for hours? That’s why I highly encourage you to flip open a journal (or a simple notebook or a piece of paper), uncap your pen, and hone your writing skills. You have a voice, the world is your palette, and you most certainly deserve to be heard. You never know, maybe someday soon you’ll be publishing a well-written article about your own POV on writing and how it has strikingly changed your whole outlook on life.

stabla:

the most awful thing is showing a friend something you found hilarious and you eagerly watch for their reaction but their face remains neutral and all of the humour evaporates and it suddenly loses all its appeal but you have to choose between admitting defeat and muttering that it wasn’t as great as you remembered, or grimly dragging it out hoping they’ll start to see the funny side.

What I love most about being in Cebu is the fact that I get to spend Sinulog in this beautiful city. For those of you who don’t know, Sinulog is a yearly celebration held every third Sunday of January in honor of Señor Sto. Niño or the Most Holy Child Jesus. Streetparties, really loud chanting, and myriads of people rushing back and forth in the streets making commuting barely possible are just a few of the perks that make up Sinulog.  It’s a pretty grand celebration and it’s a huge part of who we are as Cebuanos. 

For me, the days leading up to the Sinulog festival are what make up the pinnacle of the celebration. Every day, for 9 days, a novena mass is held in the Basilica where a huge number of devotees gather in honor of the Sr. Sto. Niño, rain or shine. They say if you complete the 9 days of novena, then your intentions will be granted, but it’s so much more than that. I realize now that most people attend the novena without thinking about what they will get out of it, but because it’s a way for them to express their love for the Most Holy Child Jesus. 

There’s a part in the mass that really gets me — the part where everyone sings the “Gozos” or the Batubalani song while waving their arms high up in the air. It’s so heartwarming to see how much everyone’s faith is expressed when they sing the song. It warms my heart even more to know that my love for the Sr. Sto. Niño is shared with a million other devotees and with the rest of the Cebuano people. It’s when I attend the novena mass that I feel the whole Cebuano nation’s love for the Infant Jesus and it’s during this time that I realize how much the Infant Jesus loves our nation too by blessing us with His presence and by making us one in His celebration.

Viva Pit Señor! 

I just realized I’m too incompetent to be in a relationship or, in general, to be in love.

Like, part of the reason why I barely even survived the last one is because I was — am still, and will probably always be — an awkward whale in everything I do, relationships being a part of the “everything” that I am pertaining to. 

And it confuses me a lot because love is supposed to come naturally. It’s supposed to be the easiest, most uncalculated thing in the entire world, and yet to me it feels like such an enigma. To quote one of my most favorite British pop rock band, “(Love is) a simple equation with no complications to leave me confused.” But even after having gone through one relationship and multiple, abrupt bouts of falling in and out of it, love, to me, still feels like walking through uncharted territory.

People most often point out that when you’re in love, things easily fall into place — you know when you’re supposed to hold each other’s hands, you know when your first kiss should occur, and you know how to react towards the different feelings that will inevitably come your way. Everything is timed perfectly and every moment feels like it could not go horribly wrong. I feel like these are just basic things you’re supposed to know… right?

Maybe it’s because I’ve always thought that love occurs in a systematic way. You meet a person. If the universe permits it, then a trumpet sounds off in the distance, bells chime, a glowing light bulb appears at the top of that person’s head, and you immediately know that that person is the one. Both of you run off into the horizon, where it is presumed that you both live happily ever after…

…and then the credits roll. 

But that, of course, is the stuff that movies are made of, and apparently, I don’t live in a world where everything is controlled by scripts, directors, producers, and whatnot. I live in a world where everything seems hazy and unclear from where I’m standing and I make my own decisions to progress.

If you knew me, then you’d know that decision-making is not really my forte. I could think of a lot of things that I’m good at, but making choices just does not top my list.

I remember my first relationship and how akin to a confused child I must have been. I didn’t completely know how kisses worked, my jabs at being a sweet boyfriend failed miserably, and all our conversations ended with the awkward “okay”. I could never make up my mind as to what I was going to say and every choice I had to make had to be repeatedly analyzed in my head because I was regularly afraid that I might say something unpleasant or do something wrong and everything would just go downhill from there. The consequences always seemed to haunt me.

Maybe the reason why love seemed as enigmatic a concept to me as every other mathematical problem is because I tend to view it systematically, I over think these things a lot and this results to poor decision-making skills. And also because, well, I’m an awkward penguin.

I constantly ask myself (and the universe) if I will ever master the art of being in love. I know I haven’t been completely well-versed in the art, but I feel like there’s a lesson here that I’m bound to learn and apply soon, somehow. And when I do, I will eventually realize that I proved myself wrong and that love does come as naturally as breathing air.