Influences (or Why I Write the Way I Do)

Natalie Goldberg (free-flowing writing)
Clarissa Pinkola Estes (wild woman writing)
Jane Hutchison (direct-to-the-point writing)
Ernest Hemingway (simple words writing)

Friday, July 25, 2014


You just have to go through this
The joy, the guilt, the agony of expecting.

Saturday, July 19, 2014

Bayad sa Pagal

because of what i am tasked to do, sometimes i get to live like what? a queen, on fieldwork. meals i pay by signing. a driver serves my beck and call. i don't get to worry about losing money.  with the position, i get to occupy suites; of course, in provinces' equivalent of 5-star hotels. i am made to feel entitled to a little pleasure, a little respite. although what i have really, in mind, is guilt. i do more because i believe. i do more because it's within my moral reason. so if i get to 'enjoy' a little, it's because the climb is getting steeper by the minute. and these meals, these hotels, these perks will pale in comparison, will be nothing but air to what will manifest, what will be delivered in 5, 7 years time.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014


my mom and sister are tough women.

but hearing the worry in her voice, i know this Glenda is not just any storm.

reading fear that almost made her retch, i know the howl and whips from this storm are one-of-a-kind.

8 storm-free years are over in Naga as it braced for this.

we can only pray. INA, PRAY FOR US.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

Saka Na

Pagal na. Kasuugma pa.

Habo ko na muna.

Sa aga na o kung nuarin pa.

Gabos na yan masusurat, magigibo, maaasikaso.

Bako lang ngunyan.

Habo ko na, muna.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

The Prey's Turn

the past seems to be catching up on me, again.

in facebook (again), a man from the past surfaced last sunday, and started a trail of conversation with me from 630pm to about 830pm.  he asked for my cellphone number and by the time my night ended at 9pm, some man is (again) texting me 'good night'. he attempted to call twice. two unanswered calls after 9pm.

in the morning, the man texted again 'good morning' and provided a breakdown of things he'd do for the day. i doused his anticipation as i retorted, 'wow! a tracking report!'. i'm not interested at all how his day will unfold.  as you would guess, that man didn't let up. later in the day, he texted to know what time i'm leaving the office and whether i'll be free for drinks or dinner after.  replied only upon getting home, texting that i'm on skype with the daughter.  again, the man ratted off 'good night' before 9pm.

the next day was no different.  in the afternoon, i was given a status report of how his construction bids turned out, how his day was at SEC, and again asked what i'm going to do in the evening.  i gave no reply. before 9pm, he texted that 'are you done skyping with yaman? can it be MY time now?'.  i can't reply to this text.  by 9pm, he bidded bye and wished me luck on this trip to isabela.

being a single working mom, away from family, one could be vulnerable to men like this one.  men who consider you prey like you are still this starstruck 18-year old who cannot distinguish between a real gentleman and a dork.  men who consider you prey because you physically live alone. men who equate your alone-ness to loneliness, sexlessness and therefore, wantonness.  men who consider you prey simply because their view of women did not progress beyond their experience of failed marriages and stagnant careers.

and though i pity, i have to kill.  like issues that have no bearing on development or is insignificant, one must kill. so shall i kill. i kill with silence. i kill by signifying no time. i kill by leaving no room for 'porma'. i kill for self-preservation. because the days of reconnecting with past lovers, married past lovers, over facebook are over. because the days of being prey are over. because now, i am not just stronger or wiser. i am unafraid, and i choose to live free.

Saturday, July 5, 2014


about to blog, then drifted to the 'Comments' page. '117' comments - what does this mean? let's click.

then there i saw, comments from the past.

i got wistful. recalling the past. the comments were serious, from the heart. from us both.

but as my favorite line goes, this is how it is. things just had to happen.

our motives matter. mine needs clearing.

so the comments will stay. i'm not taking out anything from this blog away. the good, the bad, the triumphant, the remorseful, the relishing, the ugly. it just is.

Thursday, July 3, 2014


A man by the name of Mike is in my life right now. He is my boss, of the same cut as EVR but more emotional, sympathetic and passionate on his vision for the company. It is rare for a boss to tell you, 'I am your guardian angel. I will protect you.' He indeed may be St. Michael, the Archangel, in the flesh. While his words brought comfort, it also invested fear. But a healthy kind of fear. A fear that keeps you in check. A fear that will keep you from compromising performance. A fear that will fire your eagerness to learn and pursue the heights of your potential. God is very good for showering me with exceptional, inspirational and tough-minded men. What I seek for, He gave.

Monday, June 30, 2014

51 and Counting

while the list of 50 sounds daunting, did make it, even at 51 and more.

looking at my bucket of blessings, they all redound to this: my family and home in naga, the people behind my career growth (both pro and con), the kindness of strangers who later turned out as great friends, my moving up in the physical plane (health and residence) and the inspirational leaders in writing, keeping peace and abreast with soul, and personal fulfillment. 

i welcome forth more blessings as there is much much much more to give, do and share. 

i am already reaching completion and entering a plane where my physical needs matter less and less, and i go, do, and engage to what fills my heart with quiet joy. 

i am savoring every moment of my life. the count of blessings is endless...

Thanks for for the pics.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Sorry (again)

Sorry. sorry for the sentence. sorry for not making it on time. sorry for not hearing you quite well. sorry for slipping, sorry for doing not as expected.

Sorry. if there is an overly abused word in our vocabulary, it's Sorry, transgressions have lost the threat to penalize and penalty has lost the weight to punish.

Sorry. next time, mean it. 

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Game Face

I can never be nice, but I should. In work, difficult people are in every corner. I almost kicked one's table yesterday. But as the real Boss said, 'You should learn to wear a game face Vitti!' A game face that will outbalance and keep your enemies guessing. A face that betrays your true feelings. A face that will help you carry the weight of the world. Ok, ok, ok. Time to be game.