Time Check 12:33 AM

It’s been a while! 

I have lots to tell you.


Halfway through the year and I am not feeling my best. I had so much plans for myself this year. What I remember most is telling myself, “be more.” Now, I feel ugly. I feel utterly loathsome and beastly. I could not find my way to quietude amidst the unruly stampede of thoughts willed by my conscience and fear. I could not grasp my unbecoming and that is the least I could do with this internal emulation. Soon, if I let it, it will be more and more dreadful. I will be more and more intolerable; it will result to a lot of pushing away and deactivation. Everything will detach. I will relapse into partition.

No, this is not about academics. I am no longer that woman who bases everything on numbers. Or is this just a mere cover- up for what I have truly metamorphosed? This is not about my personal life. This is not about my country nor is it about society.

It is about me, and me alone.

Sure, there are catalysts- but to whatever extent I pushed myself into relies solely on the fact that I settled for release. I freed myself upon dominion.

I could not precisely describe the feeling of losing control over my own self. But if I must: it is as though travelling an empty road that goes on forever, without even stepping your feet on the ground. You feel weightless. You hurt no one. No one hurts you. You only get to hurt yourself.

I have tried so many times; I prayed so many times. And out of all these times, nothing lasted. Not even when I prayed, “Lord, help me.” I do not even know what to fix. I just know I need fixing and I need it at the soonest possible time. The consistency of my feelings were increasingly fading. And for months it felt like I surrendered to no one and nothing but the void.

 I come home to my parents every weekend, visit my girlfriend every weekend, hang out with friends at times, do a lot of academics day and night. My grades are fine. However, nothing really satisfied the seeping emptiness.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my family, my friends, my girlfriend. They are not the driving force as to why I am slowly becoming a slave to nothingness.

As a matter of fact, I can no longer will myself to write.

It’s much better to write broken than to not write at all, I have figured. For at least, when I am angry and sad, I know I am breathing. I can feel my heartbeat; whereas when I am emotionless, I can only feel the air touch my face and see the people I love crumble as I turn into something I must not.


Into contemplation, I realize that it is my utmost commitment to life that also brings me into grave abandonment. I pressured myself into all these becoming that I soon lost my grip on to what is right. I lost my grip on the dream. I cannot accept who I am that I scrutinized myself into becoming someone I am not. I think so little of myself! I am not my mistakes. This moment right now is to be remembered always; someday, the new, fulfilled and complete Rea will thank this exact moment. There is nothing to be ashamed of, I know now. I am not to be ashamed of having to transform ever so often. I am not going to be ashamed anymore that I am not as smart as I ought to be. I am not going to be ashamed anymore of having lower grades than my brilliant block mates. Instead, I am going to raise my head up and I am going to start being thankful. Rather than moping around the corner wishing I had the same writing skills than him, I would approach him and commend him for a great poem. I am no longer going to dwell on what I lack; I am going to delve into filling the lack thereof. I am not going to let it consume me. I am going to be kind. That way, I will be strong. I will know how to fight the silent fight. I am no longer going to repeat people’s criticism about me in my head every second and question my being; instead, I will gulp it all up and see what I can do. It’s okay to return to wishing I was someone else, because I know for sure it is normal. But I won’t feed it my courage and resilience of being better. No. Scratch that. Of being the ideal Rea.


But really, what is there to change about me? I keep saying, I will, I will, I will. But what are these things that I would like to change?

  1. Not helping my family members with chores around the house.
  2. Not being able to balance my time with school works.
  3. Settling for, “bukas na ‘yan!” (“I’ll do it tomorrow!”)
  4. Going for, “bahala na. Okay na ‘yan.” (“Whatever. That will do.”)
  5. Resorting into fear.
  6. Lying. (To God, to parents, to myself)
  7. Feeding my insecurities. (Like getting mad at myself for being dumb sometimes.)
  8. Being ignorant. (About rules, schedule, deadline, simple things.)
  9. Not being practical. (Being too miserly)
  10. Being a spoiled brat.
  11. Not paying respect to my parents.
  12. Being too lazy.
  13. Forgetting proper hygiene. (I often forget applying my medications for my pimples.)
  14. Saying no to friends because I’m lazy.
  15. Complaining so much.
  16. Not being grateful enough.
  17. Always forgetting things.
  18. Being insensitive.
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