my grandpa lives in a another planet

eating baobabs or something

triggering warning: before we begin, i’ll have you know that this will be a heavy piece. it contains mentions of mental illnesses, specifically anxiety and depression. this also includes discussions about death, especially of a loved one. i encourage you all to skip this one if it will be to heavy for you.

the day after i posted my previous entry, my grandfather died. cardiac arrest.

i am writing this to the world in hopes that i am reaching out virtually to people who are also grieving. you are not alone. somewhere on this planet, there will always be grief.

i thought my mother was joking. i was already half-awake when i heard the ambulance come and people were rushing inside our front-yard with a stretcher. i went back to sleep when my mother told me he was sent to the hospital because he slipped. i slept again because when my grand-aunt slipped and dislocated her arm, she lived. i didn’t know, that right after my aunt called us to buy the medications the doctor instructed, he had passed on. i was eating my breakfast. i finished it when it was hard and cold.

right after i found out, i already wrote my eulogy. i was at a loss, having no one to cry to, feeling guilty because i had to call my dad while he’s at work because i had no one. i didn’t want to burden my mom, my grandma, and my grand-aunt with my own sadness. i cried when i was left alone at home.

(for context, in one area, we have three small houses right behind a small yard and a white gate.)

i am writing this now a week after he died. i couldn’t get myself to do anything during his wake. i had to work, but even if it was my way of distracting myself, i still cried every moment that i had tears welling up. my grandpa and i were able to hang out days before he died. apparently, when i saw him washing the dishes that day, it was already a premonition. my grandma told me that he never did house chores in his life, but for the past few days before he died, he started sweeping and washing dishes. he would speak to the wind. we were thinking that he got anxiety from when he had to look after my grandma because her arm was hurting (later on was said to be arthritis).

my grandma was the first person to cry. she told me an hour after we found out that grandpa asked her, a day before he died, if she’d cry if he passed away. she answered, “why would i cry?” because she’s always like that. nanay was a resilient person, the emotionally strongest of all the grandparents that survived to meet me. but for her to cry before everyone else, i knew that deep inside, she loved my grandpa so much. when he was alive, he always answered that he loved my grandma very much, even though my nanay would joke that she didn’t. his death had unraveled all the vulnerability nanay hid from us, and it was the first time, in all the deaths i’ve encountered in my life, that i had seen how love could break us in the same way it held us together.

i knew i was really going through so much when i had called my ex. ex-fling, or something ⎯ just someone in my heart albeit loathed to have there in my chest. i called him when tatay’s casket was sent to our place where the wake was held. i called him because i felt like it was the most optimal choice even if the thought of him already breaks my heart. we called for three hours, but the entirety of the call, i didn’t cry. he isn’t an emotionally unavailable person, but only someone who runs away from his problems. that’s why he gave up on us because it was too much for him. i acquiesced because i cared about him and i didn’t want to feel forced to maintain an act. but anyway, the call was nice to have especially when i couldn’t be around my family because they kept stopping me from crying so that i wouldn’t make my nanay feel worse. i came to him because when i couldn’t be around my loved ones, somehow he’s always open to welcome me back, even if he doesn’t feel the same anymore.

my friends came to the wake even though i lived far away from them. i kept apologizing but they said, “hey, you’re a friend. of course we’d be there for each other.” until now as i write this, i am still struggling to stop thinking that i don’t deserve the kindness i’m receiving from other people. he also came, but after the burial. it was 10 pm already when they came. they left at 12 am. it hurt because even if we were joking about it, i confirmed that he didn’t want to be with me anymore ⎯ that he didn’t want to fix what we shattered. i had to accept that, you know? the same i accepted everything that he was even if it hurt me in the process. i love in a way that breaks my heart, and i don’t think i’ll unlearn it anytime soon.

writing this now, i feel like i just get worse and worse everyday. if my family could slowly move on, i couldn’t. and it also hurts to hear, “what more about nanay’s feelings? other people didn’t even live to meet their grandparents.” it’s always about catering to other people’s feelings. that i had to move on because i have nowhere to go if i don’t. i know my nanay is the first to grieve because her husband died, but i deserve to mourn that much, too. i lost a grandfather who supported me and always wanted me to go out to get some fresh air and sunlight. i lost one of the few people i grew up with in a home that was full of grownups. after my cousin’s death earlier this year, he followed her, too.

exactly a year ago, my grandfather was feeling weak and asked all of us to come to his house because he felt that he was going to die. since my cousins, aunts, and uncles couldn’t come, we called instead. we laughed when he survived months and months after that day, only to come to a point where he was just foretelling his fate a year after.

i can’t move on. i can’t look at his pictures. i don’t want to listen to his voice in videos. and it was his death that made the loneliness far stronger in me than before. there are only a few of us left in this home where everything started. six, to be exact. before i was born, there used to be more, but when i grew up, the number dwindled. they all left, to live somewhere else and to live even farther. tatay doesn’t live here anymore, only the trinkets he’s left remained. he lives in another planet where his knees don’t hurt and he can speak properly. he doesn’t have to keep going back and forth to doctors. all my life people keep going, but i guess i’m just a stopover, so they can go to better places. that’s probably the grieving brain typing.

i actually wrote several poems before and after he died. even if i wanted to share them here, i couldn’t bring myself to do so. i looked at the notes on my phone to copy them but i didn’t. for the next few days, i don’t know if i want to do anything. working as a distraction doesn’t work if all parts of your body are mourning.

for now, i am writing this to you. i hope that the next time i write to you, it won’t be sadness anymore. i want to be triumphant next time.

digital disappearance

while i was taking a bath, i thought about disappearing. what would happen if i just erased my entire digital footprint, receive limited interaction through imessage and email, and just… not make my presence known through a screen? i wondered if anyone would notice it right away.

ever since i was in junior high school (so that was 7th grade to 10th grade in my country), i’ve always had quiet summer breaks. my classmates were busy with their own lives, making the most of their free time before school starts again and all their freedom will be limited to weekend shenanigans. since i wasn’t necessarily talking to anyone throughout that period, i created ways for me to not get bored and waste my time. since my memory is frequently failing me, i can’t tell you much about the experiences i had when i began to make my own ways of entertainment and interaction. at that time, i was very into social media. i would spend hours scrolling and typing away on my phone, sitting in the same position on the same seat — the varnished wooden long chair we had in the living room. mom would always scold me for that habit, but to be honest, it was my only way to entertain myself.

when i hadn’t told her yet of the mental condition that i have (will not add more context to lessen the heaviness of the story), i pretty much poured it all into the fanfiction i wrote back then. yes, i have been writing fanfiction since i was twelve. until now, at eighteen (nineteen in a few months), i still do. of course grammar is a recurring issue because english isn’t my native language, but through years of practice, i was able to keep lifting myself to levels until i’d say would be fluency. but anyway, that’s not the whole point of this. to sum it up, i was just on my phone all the time. it was only when i was in senior high school (11th to 12th grade) that i finally got off my phone and did something productive. looking back, it was obviously because my school was really … demanding of time … i spent days doing school work, attending classes, and talking to different people due to academics and org work. there were lots of things going on, and i’m pretty sure that really fucked me up somehow.

it’s why thought about disappearing digitally. of course i can’t disappear all of a sudden, because i have responsibilities that i am committed to. but for the time being, while it’s still summer break and i literally have nothing else to do, i thought about disappearing for a bit. frankly, i am aware that introverts do this on the regular, but now i see the appeal of just being in your own bubble, even just for a while, because it helps you wind down and relax. i was unhealthily diligent during the school year, so i guess you could say that i was not used to doing nothing. although now that i am slowly trying to gain my peace by hiding in my cave again, it felt really nice and i somewhat wished that it could be like this forever.

i wanted to stop spending too much time on social media. albeit still using my gadgets, i only want to use it limitedly, just like what i am doing right now. what i’m doing right now still sets my digital presence, but it doesn’t fully unravel it the same way social media does. i’ll hop into apps every now and then, but not all the time. it also helps me develop skills and hobbies outside of the need to broadcast myself and whatever is happening in my life. i’m already content with having the circle i have now and the audience i’m interacting with. of course i don’t mind the people subscribing to me. kudos to you guys for reading the dumb rambles of an asian kid who’s still figuring out life but with more stress, considering that successful opportunities in my country are scarce and exclusive.

as i type down my thoughts right now, the rain is pouring really hard. the wind is like a monster revealing its power, swaying the pellet-like drops of rain. i can hear it clearly, almost deafeningly. the walls of my tiny home are thin, at least if you compare it to the tall-ceiling, well-constructed houses of my peers. the lightning looks like zeus is having a field day, or perhaps he’s pissed off. the thunder accompanying is like heaven crashing against the holograms of the sky. it’s kind of scary, you know? but i don’t find the need to flaunt it multiple times across different social media platforms and accounts, unless, well, we need to evacuate from this catastrophic experience.

my low self esteem always make me think that it won’t make a difference if i disappear at all. more likely that it is caused by the lack of consideration i had from former friends. they truly enjoyed days without me, and really showed that, well, i was just a nuisance. i accepted that. rather than fighting them and all, i decided to just move away. i’m sure there were reasons why they kind of didn’t want me around anymore, and maybe my mind was just trying to victimize myself. who even knows, right? i could have received it wrongly, or maybe that really was their intention. even then, the ship was sinking already, so i had no reason to sink with it. as they already hopped onto a different boat, so should i. this taught me that i am not entitled to be the priority of the lives of my friends, but i should also know which friend is good, and which is not. one of them was, you know, your typical high school gossipmonger who stirs up drama by exposing the secrets of people who confided in her to others. my mom never liked her from the beginning. she was the type of person who would never care if i disappeared, because if i weren’t useful to her, she wouldn’t bat an eyelash at me. she boasted the “regina george bad bitch” energy, but she really was just a bad person.

(i rambled and went off tangent, i’m sorry about that lol.)

okay so to end this, i’m just really glad that i have the confidence to lay off social media and still be entertained. my younger self will never believe me, though i’m just happy to realize that there really is life outside the internet. that place forces us to perform, and when we do, we get tired. some of us just aren’t built for continuous interaction, and maybe even my former friends had that mindset, too (although yes, watered down regina george has always been mean, and they still hang out with her because they benefit from the gossip she tells). i’ve recently downloaded threads since i have to for my art account, but even if it is necessary for me, i don’t force myself to learn the app and keep using it. most of the time, i don’t really mind how big the traction i’m receiving. i’m just happy doing what i like outside of the performative shell of social media.

you can ask yourself, “what would i do if i disappeared digitally?” then come back to me and tell me what you have reflected! thank you for your time!

college course

i chose bachelor of science in legal management, but i’m not going to law school.

okay, for starters, i’m eighteen and just graduated high school as of writing.

my high school was academically adventurous — from being batch rank 1 in a small catholic school in my city, to being a scholar of one of the most prestigious universities in the country. there’s a lot of imposter syndrome, i’m telling you, and that was the time i had immense imposter syndrome because i came from an experience where people expected a lot of from me, and now that i was surrounded with people who were much smarter, and with an education system far more advanced than what i was used to, i almost thought i wasn’t cut out to be an achiever. that i just got lucky my junior high school had like, what, 30 people left in the batch.

but that’s all in the past. i’ve moved on from high school, and as of writing, it’s summer break before college. i’m gonna be a freshman in two months, and i’m not excited.

i had my senior high school in the university where i’m going to college at. when i applied, bs legal management was my first choice. some social sciences courses came after. i passed in my first choice, got a good scholarship, and i’m fucking scared. i saw bs legal management’s curriculum and nearly cried during the school of management open house. i cried because… fucking calc? christ. you see, i didn’t take trig, pre calc, and advanced algebra in senior high school intensively, okay? i didn’t dream as big as i did recently, so obviously my educational experience was a bit behind before. some friends are good at math, which is great, because i’m good in filipino and can definitely help them when they help me with calc.

so legal management. there was an option for us to change our degree program, and i was so close to choosing a humanities course (a design course at that), but somehow, i didn’t. i stayed for reasons i can no longer remember because my memory is a chunk of nonsense. though, i guess i chose to stay because i dreamed of getting good employment. in the philippines, that’s obviously a fever dream and only a reality for those who are already established wealthy before they were even born. aside from hard work, you also need insane luck. but a girl can dream, you know? public commute is a struggle, so i’ve always wanted to save up to get my entire family a car. we don’t need to get wet when it rains or heave a heavy sigh whenever grab rates spike at rush hours (which are, sadly, my dismissal time). aside from that, i’ve always loved fashion. however, i can’t afford them. i am targeted by fast fashion because it’s cheaper. thrifting is my secret weapon against this sadness of not being able to afford the brands i like. but still, i dream of filling my wardrobe with vivienne westwood, simone rocha, and yohji yamamoto.

i chose legal management because originally, i wanted to be a lawyer. a lawyer who can help women and children and queer people. because i check all the boxes. i’m assigned female at birth, i had been a child, and i am queer. i have witnessed the struggles of those who are less privileged than me. i think the first step to action is being disturbed by the reality that others face. i don’t think action should come first because we cannot just simply keep moving and moving without allowing the reality to reach us. we have to walk through their struggles so we may understand them. so we may know what action they need assistance in, and not blindly acting out of the necessity to protest. we need to know why we protest and what the objective of our protest is. this is why i want to be in legal management. this nuanced environment, i believe, will hone me into the following chapter that i will take. apparently, legal management is the best path to step in.

months then passed, and i realized that i didn’t want to be a lawyer. i am still advocating for the protection and uplifting of women, children, and queer identities, but pursuing law school daunted me. and eventually, there was also a change of passion. i was starting to love art that i thought about pursuing design as a profession. or maybe writing, which is something that i have always been passionate about since i was young (when my grammar was far worse than now). i honed my designing and writing skills on my own because i enjoyed it a lot. even though legal studies have been interesting to me, i was afraid of the fucking maths. there was general education math, which is okay, really, and then there’s two subjects of applied calculus in one semester. next few years there’s two types of accounting. if i fail, i would cry even though it’s expected.

i decided to start studying now, as of writing, when it’s still summer. but don’t worry, i am doing leisurely activities to still enjoy the few months i have left before hell arrives on my doorstep. i go to parties sometimes even though i am not a party person because i am just not built for extreme socialization to the point that people are eating your face. but it’s really fun hanging around with people once in a while. aside from that, i design, write, read, and watch almost everyday. i am actually watching succession as i write this. first season. it’s entertaining.

i do hope that when i come back here to talk about my course, i am less daunted and more excited to take it. if i don’t — god, i hope i don’t lose my scholarship.

and before i end this one, here’s stuff i wrote about my feelings on this degree program fear on my phone’s notes:

i will take whatever that is willed towards me. what i want, i won't deprive myself of. i've long been shadowing my creativity. this world has made me want to take something that will save me, but not something that will make me truly happy. i deserve both, so i will devise a plan to make that work. law piques my interest just as an ornithologist is to birds. but literature has lived in me since i was a kid. oh god, law, too! i was so interested in reading law excerpts at some point in junior high, and god, i realized i may have been really interested in it after all! i like law and literature, but most importantly, i like that love plays a vital role in both!

thank you for reading. have a nice day.