May 16th, 2020

Hey, so it’s been a minute. I made the pretentious move of getting a journal and even a fancy pen that came with it. Told myself I’d start writing. Multiple pages are filled, though much more find themselves empty. And somehow the thought of writing seems dreadful when compared to typing my thoughts out here on my Tumblr. I type faster than I write, as most people do, and I, in general, dislike my handwriting. It’s like a love-hate relationship. Sometimes it looks pretty, sometimes it’s absolutely atrocious (by ~my~ standards, I guess). It truly varies page by page. Anyway, enough about my distaste over my writing. 

2020 has been quite the ride. Much a terribly depressing one; a Debbie Downer of a year. We’re almost in 2 months of quarantine, and some people are striving. Some, unfortunately, are falling into the misguided coping mechanisms of alcoholism: like me. It has been a struggle and has been the elephant in the room in many of my conversations with friends and family. I have been told to be careful with my alcohol intake, but I like to invalidate that advice and validate my regular drinking by telling myself that it’s just a quarantine alcoholism. I won’t let this go that far. But at this point, I am not sure of what my capabilities are anymore. Another day of quarantine means another day of drinking and consequently falling deeper into the habit of. I’ll update again as soon as I feel inspired, but for now this should suffice. Peace. 

November 4, 2019

Hey

It’s been a minute. I’ve been an educator, a barista, and lounge performer. 

I’m safe yet insecure, happy yet unsatisfied. 

I can’t wait to let myself fly. 

I’m gonna be fucking fantastic, watch me. 

July 7, 2019

Hopefully one day, I can wake up, come on Tumblr, read this, and be able to say that the love of my life is mine. 

Toronto, Portugal, New York, Sweden, or wherever it is he may end up at. 

“The boy is mine,” I pray. 

One day, all the love you’ve given away will find it’s way back to you, and it will finally stay.

bunny-in-neverland  (via wnq-writers)

Gone.

It feels as though I have lost myself these past few days. Weeks, even. I have been so concentrated on things that didn’t and shouldn’t matter to me. I have been looking at the little, rather superficial things through a magnifying glass, and it has been causing me so much unhappiness and remorse within my own self. It might be time again to withdraw from society’s shallow expectations and live off of my own standards. There are always other ways to do life better, but I already knew that. I have to put that into action. 

Wow. More than half of my trip is done - day 19 out of 30 to be exact - and quite honestly looking back right now makes it seem like it went by in just a flash. I still adhere by what I said when it came to travelling from airport to airport though, having to go through the stress of immigration and making sure that I had my passport in pocket 1, wallet in pocket 2, wallet 2 in pocket 3, phone in pocket 4, phone 2 in pocket 5, headphones whichever pocket I felt like putting it at, and so on and so forth. However, it’s what comes next that makes it all the worth. With that being said, I am still dreading the travels back to Saskatoon. Really, there are only a few people in that city I can think of right now on my flight to Singapore who I can’t wait to see again, so I might contemplate not coming back home and they can just fly to wherever life leads me. Oh, how I wish. Can life be that simple? It’s honestly quite bewildering how many layers of stress comes with maturity, adulthood, and independence that travelling offers. It was and truthfully is a simple concept on paper, but you don’t take into account human emotions, unexpected and unpredictable happenings, and the fear there is of the new. The strange. The unprecedented. Nobody can tell you exactly how everything is going to happen, nobody can teach you how to react to what happens, for every experience is personally unique the same way it is uniquely personal. There were times when I just couldn’t wait to leave and go back home to Canada as loneliness and the reality of insecurity came creeping in and when a mere hug from my significant other would’ve meant the world. Truth be told, I regretfully broke off the relationship, because life wasn’t going my way. However, thankfully, as some of you might’ve assumed, that relationship was fought hard for and stood strong, and continues to be a source of strength and certainty in a world full of the uncertain. And as a journal side note and tea on how the relationship is going, it definitely has been nothing but normal. I thought of which adjective to use, and I considered using words like “amazing” and “wonderful”, but I’m pretty sure “normal” is the word that wouldn’t make any of you roll your eyes and say “Oh there he goes again with his happy, his perfect morning (or afternoon) wood relationship.” Jokes aside, “normal” should suffice as it already is inclusive of the words “amazing” and “wonderful”. I know for a fact that not every moment is going to be amazing or wonderful, but “normal” also includes “stressful” and “aggravating”. Contrary to popular belief, I am not sheltered, nor am I naive and oblivious to what is out there. I am as aware of the horrible as I am of the fantastic, and also hyper-aware of the fact that the good and the bad come hand-in-hand. The distance has undoubtedly been a big obstacle, and has been successful in heightening feelings and emotions. With that in mind, I’d like to mention that this is the first of my relationships I have made my parents aware of. The past three relationships I was in, were relationship I wasn’t allowed to be in because of my immaturity, education, and sexuality. In that order, actually. That is why I didn’t tell them. Not that things have changed, I am still immature, I am still without a degree, and I am still not straight. The parentals will never be satisfied, and while I would love for them to be proud of their youngest son, I am no longer a prisoner of their expectations. Everyone (but them, of course) has been overwhelmingly supportive of the relationship, and being in a relationship that is public feels quite liberating yet scary. People know what I am up to now. I am now subject to public scrutiny for who I choose to be in a relationship with. It’s weird. Anyhow, the distance is slowly closing in, and soon I won’t have to sext again. *winks* It is ironic how you miss people because you’re gone travelling, but it is the distraction of travelling and new adventures that lets you forget for awhile. Attack the pain of travelling by travelling. It’s exactly what I am doing right now. Saying goodbye to my relatives in the Philippines was harder than I had imagined, because I knew it’s going to be a long time before I get to see them again. I am envious of people whose relatives live nearby. I hope they never take that for granted. Typing this makes me so emotional, and quite honestly there already are teardrops on my keyboard, specifically on letters “F” and “G”. And that, my friends is millennial’s take on “Teardrops on My Guitar”. Laughing out loud. Anyways, having to say goodbye to my maternal grandmother was definitely the hardest. She suffers from dementia, and her mental and emotional state is not good. The last thing she told me was that she hopes she’d still be alive by the time I come back again. Tore my heart into pieces. Ah. Stahp. I’ll end here. Comment the black moon face so I know you read through this. Much love.

Travelling to Asia.

Travelling to Asia was nothing but an absolutely shitshow. Travelling in general was pretty shitty. No kidding, we all fantasize over the idea of travelling, and so-called “finding ourselves” which was EXACTLY what I was going after. As a matter of fact, I was finding myself … except in stressful situations I wish I hadn’t faced. Surely travelling gives you a whole new perspective of the world - I’m not taking that shit away. That shit is too true. However, hours upon hours of travelling allows me to overthink every situation I could possibly face, like being in the plane that randomly disappears into the Bermuda Triangle. Though, not really, because none of my flights went near the said triangle. But who the fuck knew. Triangles symbolize the illuminati according to my mom and many people had triangles on their phones cases, shoes. I don’t fucking know. Fuck, maybe their foreheads had triangles like that Taylor Swift meme that went viral of a triangle obviously Snapchat-drawn on her forehead with the caption, “illuminati confirmed.” Or knowing the dumb person that I am, I could’ve been that guy who loses his passport, or ticket, and is unable to fly back home. So yes, it does give me a new perspective on how shitty life actually is. Yay travels. (Shit, they honestly need emojis on Word, because that was totally an opportune time to use the emoji with the rolling eyes. Or the brown guy in blue giving himself a facepalm, because God/Allah/Buddha knows that is me a hundred percent of the time.) Also, nobody gave me a heads up on how tough it is, quite surprisingly, to be travelling while being in a relationship. Beyond the cheesiness of relationships and love. Let’s get real here. You get horny on a thirteen hour plane ride thinking of your significant other, or Harry Styles - same thing for me, actually - and your body, timezone-confused and already jetlagged, gets a morning wood. Or an afternoon one, maybe? Whichever it is, wood of any kind is not good when you’re alone. I mean, ‘Love Myself’ by Hailee Steinfeld is a thing after all, but how much can you realistically love yourself in an aeroplane? If anything, you just start to hate yourself because you forgot to bring that book you thought you wouldn’t read on the plane ride. Trust me, the ride drags on and on, and starts to get overwhelmingly boring a solid five minutes after take-off. Bring that book to not only rid of boredom, but also kinkiness. *winks* Regardless of relationship status, that is a problem all of us should be aware of. (I am glad and feel quite liberated that I am able to speak of this candidly. Hey, it’s normal. Unless of course you’re that person who loves yourself 5 times a day. Buddy, I even hope you have a toy for that. Or not. Get yourself some solid biceps bruh.) Other than problems like that, however, the cheesiness of it all does manage to stay afloat. You begin to miss the sound of their voice, the warmth of their skin and touch, and the security they assure. Thank these clouds I am looking at right now on my flight to Manila for the advancements of technology. Communication is crucial, and video chats and Snapchat to know they’re happy, well, and most importantly alive, are essentials at this point. This, of course, also includes all your closest friends and everyone you hold dear at heart. On the other hand, with all the lows of travelling, you also get yourself a view of the high. You begin to realize what and where home is to and for you. The situation for me was rather confusing though, because I am a born-and-raised-in-Singapore Filipino who resides in Canada, and also an almost-Canadian Filipino going for a vacation in Singapore and the Philippines (and Malaysia, possibly Indonesia, and/or Thailand(?), but that’s besides the point.) It’s pretty interesting too, because I am home away from home. First and second home away from third home. The three homes being Singapore, the Philippines, and Canada accordingly. I am reminded of what and who is important to me - things, matters, and people I might take for granted on a normal day at the place I only recently called home. Canada is my new home, and as far as the future is concerned, I am going to be here for quite a long while. And this is far from what we are discussing at this moment, but I cannot wait to be a Canadian citizen. Holy shit, I’d do anything to attain one of the most powerful passports in the world (behind the Singaporean passport, of course. Hehe.), and hopefully hold a dual citizenship between Canada and the Philippines. I haven’t had time to proofread everything I’ve typed so far, but please be aware that I am currently wifi-less and my vocabulary is limited because I can’t easily access a thesaurus. Well, I mean I guess it just is limited in general with wifi or without. That aside, travelling and the feelings it has inflicted on me has inspired me even more to grow and allow myself to experience things I never thought I wanted to. I am now more inspired, and actually quite excited to let myself discover the greats and the terribles of life. I have very recently started to write words my heart yearns to say in the form of poetry. And I eventually want to put melodies to them. The art that is travelling gives you so many different metaphors in life that aren’t visible to the naked eye, and gives you the opportunity to witness the parallels of life. Here is one I had written on my first flight: 

“The imperfections of the ocean / And the racing of the tides / Remind me of your reflection / On all four sides.” 

I realize I’m not a poet, but these simple words could one day have a little ring to them. Who knows. Anyways, this plane ride is so draggy and it already is one of, if not the shortest flight I am going to be on throughout my entire journey. The pilot just said we’re arriving Manila 15 minutes earlier than scheduled. This is the best thing to happen to me. The smile that I have on my face right now is as big as the space between Canada and Singapore, or I guess Manila. Such a first world problem, but riding aeroplanes are boring as fuck and the food is boring and the rice is always either over or undercooked. And like I said, travelling people are stressed people and I won’t be able to handle their stress on top of mine. I guess this is where this journal post ends. Only day 4 out of 30 and I already have so many stories to tell. And thanks for making it through to this post, it only means you love me or even hate me, but hey either way that means I am on your mind. If you read of all of this, comment the black heart emoji on my Instagram post. If you’re an Android user, just say “black heart emoji”. All the love!

me: i literally couldnt care less about what people think about me

also me: 

Change is inevitable. No matter if it’s good or bad, change is one of the few things in life you can always rely on. Don’t fear it, but feel reassured - you won’t live the same life all along.

t.k (via timbllr)

How are you okay knowing that you are why I cry myself to sleep most nights

may your ass get fatter and your heart get wiser in 2017

2016 has done enough. I carry so much anger towards the world we live in today, and it is unfortunate, really, how this year has been a tough one anyone has had to live and persevere through, when it did not have to be. I have caught myself saying this a few times now, and hopefully this will be the last time I say this before the new year. God damn it, people, it is twenty-fucking-sixteen, and racism and Islamophobia is still (yep, still) alive and well. The video of the two Arabic men getting kicked out of the aeroplane all because they spoke their language just shows how ignorant and full of shit a lot of us in this planet are. How the heck could anyone have perceived spoken Arabic words as terrorism, how the heck could that have made anyone feel uncomfortable and threatened? And the fact that the Delta airlines staff had agreed to those who felt uncomfortable, and then consequently asking the two men to disembark to plane can't get anymore vexing and antagonizing. Is kindness, truthfully, ever enough as a weapon of vengeance? Because right now, it is seeming like justice is not being served. These people deserve hostility, just as they were to these men who were undeserving of such shame and hurt. I hope one day, they will find themselves in a reverse universe where their bigotry would be shamed and not tolerated by all, and cause them to be kicked out of a plane. I hope one day we will be that reverse universe ― something I mistakenly thought we already were.