Thesis Updates!

My thesis adviser already warned me. She gave me a warning and I did not listen. She already told me that I would not be able to finish my thesis because I was enrolled into too many subjects last semester (I overloaded, which I would never do again). Deadlines and other course requirements left me no time to write my thesis.

Thus, I enrolled again this midyear–13 June 2017 to 15 July 2017. I only have 25 days to create a thesis proposal because I was officially enrolled on 21 July. I know. 25 days. Cry with me.

Still, I am believing and trusting the Lord that I can do this through Him because I already have 8 hours a day to work on my beloved thesis. (Please do not distract me Happy Sandwich Cafe).

So for the duration of my #ThesisIt moments, I deactivated my Facebook and Twitter accounts, so that I can have additional sprinkles of illusions of productivity (which I think sometimes still renders meaningless because I rant on Instagram Story).



I am part of a book project!

I struggled a lot with writing this semester. I submitted late outputs in my literature class. It took days for me to write a one-page scientific paper (when before, it can be crammed in one night like a badass). There was even one subject where I failed to pass a paper because of my horrific writer’s block (I passed the subject, don’t you worry). I even took a break from writing scripts for Okiddo because ideas just simply, frustratingly wouldn’t come.

I wanted to step outside the dark zone that I was relieved when a fellow writer shared a Writing for Kids seminar with my favorite local children’s book author, Grace Chong, on Facebook. Signing up for the seminar was a big decision because you would commit to write at least five pieces/articles for a book to be launched at next year’s Manila International Book Fair. The book would be published under OMF Literature.

I was not expecting that much. I was not even expecting to get published. I just wanted an extra boost, probably a few friendly tips here and there so that I could get back to my zone. I wanted so bad to get out of the dark writer’s block pit that I was in. I wanted to string words again, so that I could be a voice for the kids again.

And so, I braved Cubao alone (with a little help from Google Maps), not even knowing where the event was.

I was sweaty from all the travelling, I was late, and I was the only student amidst a group of 15 (or so) experienced, eloquent, talented adults. Some were even published already.

But I remained brave. I kept telling myself, “Remember. You have to get rid of your writer’s block.” But I was up for a surprise when Grace Chong went into Paul Washer mode (writer style) and repeatedly said:

There is no such thing as a writer’s block! I repeat, there is no such thing as a writer’s block.

PREACH. I was rebuked. She continued, saying that even the great poets could not fully describe the numerous, indescribable creations of God. So how can I, a mere mortal complain, “There’s nothing to write about”? There are hundreds, thousands, millions of things to write about.

From a mediocre, selfish standpoint of just wanting to write again, I was suddenly transported into this idea that hey, I could also get published. I could also share my experiences on ministering and writing for kids. I could also help in the cause of raising up budding advocates for children. I am not too young or too inexperienced to have a voice and also share my passion of writing for the kids.

And this project was also the reason why this blog was resurrected from the grave. I need to write MORE and I hope that this blogging thing would help me in the process of this book project.

But still, ultimately, knowledge comes from the Lord. As He promised in James 1:5, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.”

For the past semester, maybe I haven’t been seeking help from God. I was too busy being frustrated over myself, being stressed over deadlines, that I forgot to trust that He is the source of overflowing knowledge. I am grateful and humbled that He taught me this lesson this week.

Thank You Father for remembering that You have a daughter who badly wants to write. And thank You for letting her find the joy in writing again and even leading her to new opportunities. You are a good Father!


Think of Happy Thoughts

I’ve been feeling really stressed these days. Missed deadlines. Missed quizzes. Failed exams. Allowance shortages. Unpaid bills. Irritating schoolmates. I just cant help but to succumb to weakness and hopelessness whenever I try to think of all these things that bother me. Sometimes, I feel as if the whole world is upon my shoulders and I can’t do anything about it.

But I can do something about it. Our problems, our fears, our doubts.

In our CMSC2 (Introduction to the Internet) class, our professor made us think of the greatest problem we faced, or a scary experience, and asked us to write it on a piece of paper. On the back side of the paper,we were tasked to put what we had learned about this experience. (Yes, I know that our CMSC2 class looked like some sort of self-discovery class haha) Anyway, I wrote an experience when I was only 7 years old and my aunt locked me in a dark, unused comfort room filled with bugs, and cockroaches and other gross stuff a 7 year old wouldn’t want to see. Why was I even locked in the first place? Well, I made my younger brother eat chili. What? I was curious why they wouldn’t let us eat chili! I had no idea why I put that in my paper. Nevertheless, it was a scary and a crazy experience. I was only seven that time. That 7-year old experience made me realize that I should never force chili on someone. (That’s what I wrote on the back of my paper) And as I continue to grow up, I developed more fears and more experiences. As I grew up, I gained different perspectives that changed me as a person. That experience I had 8 years ago, was nothing compared to what I have now or to the experiences that I will have in the future. But these experiences, these fears and these doubts will transform us into better people. We might not know it, but these things help us look beyond ourselves and make us realize what we’re lacking.

Maybe that failed Math exam’s telling you to “Study harder” or that painful heartbreak’s telling you, “He’s/She’s not the right one for you” or whatever circumstance you’re facing right now, maybe it’s telling you to “Do better.”

Failing hurts and failing is hard to accept. Fears, well, they are scary. And problems, well sometimes we don’t want to do anything about them. But why don’t we just try to sit down, relax and think of how these failures will transform us into better people. After all, everything happens for a reason.

Don’t forget to write!


Wow! So I have been neglecting this blog for pretty much for a long time already. I don’t remember the last time I blogged–both on wordpress and tumblr–and I’m too lazy to even check the dates on my blog posts. I became too busy or too preoccupied with my college exams that I don’t even set some time aside to write. I’ve been pretty much avoiding my “love affair” and I miss her.

I attended several writing workshops for the past few weeks and I have to say it brought me back to my craft. It also helped me find my writing voice and the reassurance that I am, indeed, a writer. I realized it was wrong of me to always put “aspiring” or “soon-to-be” titles before the word “writer” in my descriptions when I am really a writer the first time I said “I want to write”.

So I have decided to come, running and panting, back to my first love, try hard to search for my muse and just, write. Write not because I want to be heard, but because I have something to say as a writer. I don’t know if it’s mere coincidence that the speakers were very much persistent on the ”Write everyday” rule. Haha. Even my past English 1 lessons were all about “feed your muse and write everyday” reminders. They are strict and even when indolence strikes, I now carry a journal with me everyday whenever creative juices would try to leak from my brain. So now I am desperately trying to set aside my perfectionist’s schemes to not correct my drafts or my pre-writing process.

photo taken from:


No matter how hard I try to see things here, I feel incomplete. I feel like how much effort I put into something, my works are like mud displayed in a glass window next to exquisite, pompous jewelry for everyone to laugh at.

It’s been a month and a half since I moved here in the university and my mind can’t exactly comprehend how surreal for a person like me to be here. I am like a person who dared to be in wilderness with nothing but her non-existent “guts”.

Being in this campus made me realize a lot of things, personally and intellectually. First, I realized how completely alone I am. How completely alone it is to frequently eat breakfast, lunch and dinner with no one. How completely alone it feels to see your roommates so close to each other and you’re the cock blocker. How completely alone it feels to miss your family in every single moment as you keep your tears from falling when they call you and say they miss you too with the same intensity as you have.

I do have “some” friends and bloc mates who talk to me, but I can put my finger in it that I do not belong with them. They’re like brightly multicolored little rays of sunshine that I positively can’t relate to. They form in groups and whenever there’s this guidance instruction class or activity (I don’t know what they call them), I feel like I’m being tossed outside the caste system. I miss my friends back in high school, call me stupid or whatever for not moving on, but I really do miss them. It would be such great exhilaration to walk on these grounds with them by my side.

Second, I can’t always be the best in here, even in my own craft, the craft I self-proclaimed sharpened in the past 15 years. I can’t believe that the “craft” I’ve been worked hard for so long, and trusted for so long, would fail me in here. I’ve always longed to shatter my professors’ or my peers’ sanity due to my random contemplation, yet my heart feels nothing but complete laceration and I wish I knew what could recuperate it.

I think my mind imposes tricks on me and I even wonder if I’m in the right track taking this course I study right now. It would be totally impractical, foolish and purely stupid to base my reaction on this course just because I failed few (I think, most) of my journal entries. Moreover, I feel like I’m the only person in the class who does not relate with whatever boring things the professor is saying.

Today, I still haven’t opened my journal entry to see what  grade my professor gave me. I feel terrified as if a monster might pop-out of the pages because of my monstrous score.

I know some people won’t necessarily get my point, but believing that you can do something excellent in something then suddenly fail isn’t actually encouraging. Well, what can I expect they say expecting hurts more than failing.

I believe I can still do better, and with the constructive criticism my professors provide aiming to get the best out of our heads, I can be something greater and I can aspire higher than what I can do right now. I am still looking forward for my Rapunzel moment and say, “My life finally begins.”

My dear friend, you may not be what some people expect you to be. We all have our flaws but always remember that you are loved by our Dad in heaven.

Whatever you did in the past, no matter how imperfect you are, you are always special and loved. We always have a Dad to run into who will accept us no matter how dirty we are. Our Dad is someone who is more than willing to scoop and carry our imperfect, dirty selves and clean us as bright as new. We just need to run faithfully and follow Him. Just follow Him.

Remember, you are loved dearly.