Category: Philosophy

I didn’t feel too dandy on my birthday 4 days ago. People would say it isn’t called happy birthday for no reason. I say that’s bollocks. I am allowed to feel whatever I can siphon from others’ emotions and delude myself like they’re my own. Plus, it’s not like I don’t have the vibration of the place I’m in and the ephemeris’ as contributing factors. I take these things into consideration. I don’t just say I should be happy because it’s what normal people dictate. It’s not my fault – sometimes the odds are against me.

The past week has been one of reliving the nightmare, so to speak. The repercussions of what I had done 5 years ago still reverberating in my consciousness ever so strongly, some memories added, some memories taken to converge into a vortex of self-pity. I want it to swallow me whole. For some hours I let it consume me and then I would appear on the other side of it beaming with temporary positive vibes. But something is amiss. I am not blind to that. I wonder how many people who believe in the law of attraction actually recognise that other factors are at work and if timing isn’t on your side, the law of attraction is just futile. Unless, of course, you’re Jesus who can bend space and time.

Lately I keep reliving my regret over what I did. Did his mother empathize with him? Does she or the people there in the household hate me, too? Probably not hate but some other less stronger word. Persona non grata. I know what I did was wrong, but what kind of fog has clouded over their heads should they think he didn’t need correction? I know, I know, probably not the kind of correction I brought upon him but, still, I cannot fathom how some minds simply decide to only grasp a partial story.







At some point I’ve developed an apathy to my own drama that I’d want to bang my head on the wall (but wouldn’t dare go to great lengths to literally do so). There’s no point in crying unless for catharsis; if it make us feel good to wail and sob, a reliever that helps vent out our anger at the world (oh, how unfair it is!) or at someone. I stop midway whenever I catch myself complaining and lamenting my discontent because the whole circumstance boomerangs back to me. No, it’s not being hard on myself, but rather it’s an illumined understanding of the universal laws we’re bound to.

I frustrate myself when I clearly see my disposition to despise an unpleasant situation I got myself in. When I had to go through almost a hundred times with one Candy Crush level, I know it reflects my poor problem-solving skills in life, always feeling like I’ve been at the end of my rope forever yet I perpetuate the aggravating problems myself by running around in circles. I know something has to change but disheartened how the risks are too great. And when I solve the difficult level? Ecstatic am I! But, wait, do I bask in this small success forever? It’s a trap because the challenges only get more and more difficult with each rung I surpass.

The disposition to despise subsequently brings me back to the center, back to focus. It’s a waste of energy to linger in it, though. Somehow The Hanged Man in the Tarot has to get himself unstuck.


Beneath my aloof exterior, I always find it in my heart to thank the people whom at different stages in my life I had once been really close to. I feel that way because I could no longer last having conversations with old friends in the present. Some friends are all about themselves and when they decide it’s my turn to share stories, I cannot escape the thought that they still think they’re talking to the same naïve 16- or 20-year-old they used to know. It’s not cute and it’s far from flattering.

In some others I would experience another pet peeve – every time I run into them in a local shop they’d ask the same question as if on autopilot, Why haven’t I decided to settle down? They’ve equated smart girls with higher chances of getting a presentable partner. It’s like predicting that all who graduated at the top of the class would have easy access to the throne at the club of the affluent. My old friends and acquaintances unconsciously find ways for me to deliberately avoid them.

Word goes around quick in a smaller world like where I live in. I would subsequently hear updates from friends of friends of friends. When it all gets awkward face to face, I resort to a quirky way to stay updated. We are all responsible for information we publish online. I once did this recently out of the blue with a friend’s Instagram account. Easy peasy when the account is set to public.

Although I couldn’t stand chatting with her online for the reason that we’ve lost touch, have grown apart, and took different spiritual life paths, I felt happy for the positive turns her life has taken for the past few years. She deserves all of it and Saturn has rewarded her perseverance. I don’t always agree with how a pious Christian like her ascribes her success (because, really, it’s all a combobulation of stuff they deem inexplicable but which has already been revealed in the blueprint they carry at birth). Ay, there’s the rub.

Though I know I’ll never ever lose affection
for people and things that went before,
I know I’ll often stop and think about them.

– In My Life, Bette Midler


Tabula Rasa

A clean slate. Why do we need a clean slate? Do we ever check ourselves if the clean slate is purely illusory?

Yesterday I’ve deleted two Tumblr pages yesterday and I am aware it was out of hate and shame for myself. One should get over one’s sins of the past, however, not all personal demons immediately go away. Whenever I am beset with these reminders, I crawl back into the old, angry me even though there were more factors than my self that precipitated an unfortunate situation. You’ll never find me being optimistic about letting go. But letting go and make peace I must.

Thinking back to the deletion yesterday I felt like I was screaming at the demons staring back at me, like I hated that part of myself and momentarily engendered a loathing for the whole experience. I don’t hate the lesson. I just hated that naïve part of me from the past.

I deleted the reminder of the past. Unfortunately, what may be erased digitally remains in the soul imprints and the akashic records for that matter. How tragic that we, human incarnates, should endeavor to forget only to want to remember much later.

Reminds me of a television series I watched hours ago, Blindspot. We thought Jane was coming to but in a twist of events she ends up betraying the sole sacrifice she got herself into. She consented to forget, yet she wants to remember. There’s a good reason why we delete just as we are bound to forget. However, in her case a clean slate is hardly the solution.

When I get to remember unpleasant memories, I chalk it up to timing, or more specifically, planetary transits. I know why I’m feeling this way right now towards this or that situation but this is temporary.  But some unpleasant memories bring with them the good ones, too,  so it’s hard to compartmentalise. We just have to learn to live with it.



I’ve been preoccupied with thinking about how I’m more often thinking about being rather than being in the moment. I know this tendency of mine to overthink and the compulsion to anticipate and plan ahead too well. I wouldn’t see it as altogether a bad habit. It’s rather relative in the sense that all depends on timing yet most of the time I miss the “flexible” mark. But then, again, timing is tricky and subjective reflections are muddled. The only thing certain is uncertainty.

Wouldn’t it be nice to wake up with that realisation? I did. Very compelling yet the quick mind is not so attuned to the timid body. Doubt and fear creep in and I’m back in the fetal stage of suspended motion and indecisiveness. It hit me that I may have questioned myself about it less. When you’re used to succeeding at one thing and suddenly fail at it, you lose your bearings and forget how you got from one point to the next.

Or it could be just ego and pride. So proud, so confident in treading the waters of life…we think we will know or feel our way around the ocean of both familiar and unfamiliar circumstances that we forget the science of it – there is a way but not the one you dictated.

It’s either succumb to the flow of trial and error (ignorance is bliss) or find the logical pattern (knowledge is power).


Not Of This Earth

It’s Christmas eve in my side of the world and after three decades of first knowing about it, what hasn’t changed is my ambivalence to it. I simply don’t understand the whys and origins of it other than Christmas was obviously mainly a Christian tradition. My friends had told me that it’s an eponymous celebration about the birth of Christ and therefore it’s a celebration of love and giving, et cetera, et cetera. How they defined it didn’t really help me much when people are just going to supposedly show the spirit of giving and loving during the holidays but completely forget about it when it’s over.

Most of my Christian friends thought there was something wrong with me for initially disliking Christmas, that I was a mean-spirited grinch. Of course the grinch doesn’t really exist, neither does Santa Claus. The inclusion of the latter into “Jesus Christ’s birthday” is mind-boggling. Not to mention all the other pagan symbols it adopted; so-called holy priests assimilating paganism from the heretics they punished. If I were a business woman I’d probably go all gung-ho about making people believe the essence of Christmas, but maybe secretly won’t practice what I would preach about it. 

I do believe in Cycles, though – cycles and seasons we do karmic work with. If Christmas is popular with the majority of people in this planet, it may be a necessary step to the evolution ladder. 


I decided to watch Point Break (Edgar Ramirez, Luke Bracey) this afternoon and although in some areas I know it was lacking, nevertheless I took away some insights which have been fomenting in my consciousness for a good while. The movie reminded me of the rebellious Into The Wild, except that it didn’t feel like the whole was greater than the sum of its parts.

For two days I’ve been having dreams having to do with water. Two nights ago I was seeing ocean waves and last night I was bombarded with overflowing water in every corner of the boxed compartment I found myself in. I didn’t drown though, which hints at the problem being largely of a perceptive nature.

The water perception makes sense in light of what I’ve been preoccupied lately reflection-wise. It almost seems endemic to a Filipino culture for the offspring to feel as if they have to sacrifice their lives for their family financially and emotionally. The parents project their unfulfilled wishes and ambitions on their children and either the eldest humbly assumes the breadwinner role after he/she completes his/her tertiary education or the children are forced to prioritize working for money over finishing their education. Evidently it is the responsibility of the parent or parents to send their kids to school and see to it that they graduate, but strangely the roles get reversed here. But just because it’s “common” doesn’t mean it’s logical. I would wager 95% of the population here have this kind of brainwashed programming to the point that 8 years ago I was surprised when a co-worker of mine presented her opposite viewpoint as a parent of two.

The brainwash hurts the kids’ future. It hurt mine, too, because I grew up with it and fought with it and still trying to deprogram myself from it. It makes me hate my situation because I don’t fancy explaining myself away to people I know will never understand. “Don’t throw your pearls before swine.” And that’s mainly where the contradiction and dilemma comes from – I have to learn that it’s okay to put my foot down, to draw boundaries and firmly say no. No wonder I literally have this heavy feeling on my shoulders.

The children grow up and get old forsaking their self-actualization, secured in the delusion that they’re doing an honorable thing. While some forsaking marriage may sound pitiable, they may not have been dictated to serve their parents for as long as they live. It still boils down to personal choice, just as a person who committed suicide bears the most responsibility for his decision albeit influenced by society and familial surroundings.

It sure pains to live life by proxy; you’d wait for your unfamiliar projection to show up because it’s what you see as the path society deems acceptable. You fail to see your children are your own projections and that they’re not really yours.

When you take up your parents’ paths without raising so much a single doubt what you’re here in this planet for, evolution is wasted.



Invisible Scars

There are specific times I would listen to a suggested song right away but on other days I would be quick to dismiss it. Begrudgingly I’ve ignored Johnny Hates Jazz’s Shattered Dreams for too long each time a snippet of it finds its way into my subconscious. Two nights ago, however, I gave in to the strong urge to search for it on Spinnr and listen to it, hoping the last song syndrome I gave myself might go away soon. But here I am still listening to it, and still hoping.

I didn’t live in regret. I’ve read we don’t remember the memories as it happened but rather how we last remembered them. I was enamored with the place, but not as much as the person I associated it with. My eidetic memory may be questionable but not the feelings I once associated each memory with. This is what really makes us humans have a soul experience – the set of emotional triggers and the meaning we put into them. Over time, we may modify our emotional responses to adapt to the demands of the present. And the process goes on and on.

One day you’re feeling positive, only to find out later it was just a byproduct of delusion and ignorance. Striking a balance between the head and the heart is a never-ending theme.

What once was – It never dies. One just learns to live with it.

A Rose

One time this afternoon my reverie suddenly took me back to one particular incident in February 2012. I was homestaying in Revesby under an Egyptian architect. I did have a place to stay during the first few weeks I arrived in Sydney but circumstances I wished I could have prevented earlier would come to pass anyway, prompting my transfer to a homestay setup in another area of NSW. It was bittersweet; so was the weather about a week into my stay in Revesby. Going into March the rain frequented the area and as if to add insult to injury, the cold was unforgiving as well. 
Even though I had been reminded of the tarot card The Hanged Man to stay put so painful events can unfold on their own without my intervention, I was unrelenting in my deep-seated anger. It was the perfect time to burn bridges and unsolicited advice from a super nice friend would fuel my desperation. 

The rainy weather seemed to last for years. It struck me today that I would often see a rose by my window. The Egyptian homeowner has a small garden outside extending to his backyard. Even though I always pull the curtains together, I would still get a glimpse of the rose between the gap of the curtains. I never thought much about how this rose could be offering me hope back then until today. After my two-week homestay there, I noticed few rose stems have grown taller and joined the one rose that kept me company. 

There’s a reason why I was reminded of that memory from 3 years ago. The rose by my window was a subtle reminder to find consolation and hope but I could not appreciate it at the time. 

I Don’t Belong Here

Last Sunday my mother and aunt accompanied me to the office of the Commission on Elections. I had not completed the final required step for their new rules on becoming a bonafide voter – getting the biometric stuff like face and fingerprint ID. We were met with a closed door with a sign indicating they’re temporarily holding office at some space in a local mall. We were walking towards the taxi stand and a disoriented feeling washed over me, particularly one that I am no stranger to witnessing and reflecting a lot of times.

I don’t belong here. I mostly don’t find my big career jumps or opportunities here. What the hell have I been staying here for too long?

I recall an incident back in elementary school – I think I was 8 or 9 years old – when I was having picnic lunch with the same aunt I was with last Sunday. “Your destiny is not here; it’s somewhere in a foreign place.” The years never erased her words in my memory especially when the heart recognized it to be true. What a not-so-surprising coincidence to get that sudden disorientation vibe at that point in time.

I did begin to doubt that the time may be soon for me to strike it out again in a foreign land as I wondered why I was recently imagining about family get-togethers. Later that day my mother would astonishingly run into a close high school friend that I have been avoiding communicating with for over a year. (I’ve changed a lot and people grow apart; I can’t just listen to baby stories and family drama the whole time I’m out with common friends. I’m sorry I can’t relate and not all women just want to have babies to identify their projected selves with.) I know my friend could read it in my face that I have changed and that I wasn’t looking forward to getting her new number. She did get mine though. Just a week ago I ran into 2 classmates from the university. If those aren’t enough signs to tell me something is up in my travel list then I don’t know what.

I have Ninth House in Taurus and a Moon in the Third House so I do love traveling. It’s just lately I’ve been very picky with my choices of where I want to go instead of being superficially swayed by others’ suggestions.


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