Stick It!

I started this blog for a sole purpose – to act as my passion project as I start working on my self-care. For the first few weeks, I have tried to write religiously as possible to justify the cost of purchasing the domain, and honestly, because I am excited with the community I found here and it also was my sort of escape. However, I have been in a slump for about two weeks now not because I don’t find this fun anymore, nor because I felt lazy and decided to just quit out of the blue but because I realized that there’s more than one way to practice self-care during this time of pandemic.

A month ago, I decided to quit my job. Yes, during such a crazy time. And yet, as I am writing this, I know deep in my heart that it is the right thing to do – the job has taken the life out of me and the anxiety and the sadness (depression(?), I wasn’t medically diagnosed yet since I haven’t had the courage to see a doctor in this pandemic) that it brings outweighs the pros of staying – mainly, just my salary. It was such a bold move and my anxiety got even worse, there were times that I could not function the whole day -I would just stop and stare at my laptop screen instead of doing my job, then breakdown. It wasn’t a pretty sight. I wanted to write but I also could not find the energy to open my laptop and do it without thinking about the work I should rather be doing. I know I had to do something about it so I took a few days off from work to give myself some space without feeling guilty.

I filed for two days off before and after that weekend to have more time to gather up my thoughts and “fix” whatever it is that I’ve been feeling. I also did not tell my family about the leaves so that they’d give me my space, thinking I was working. It was during those days that I realized that self-care truly comes in different forms but it always starts with this step – you’d do something good to yourself, for yourself.

And while I’ll be talking about these newfound habits and interests of mine in other posts, I’d like to use this post to highlight the help of essential oils to help me relax during such stressful time. During the nights that I have a hard time sleeping due to the anxiety, I’d pop in the diffuser we have at home and let the lavender scent caress me to sleep. Aromatherapy is a practice that has been around for centuries that uses essential oils for its therapeutic benefit. And with the rise of the popularity of holistic living and alternative medicine, also comes the rise to stardom of essential oils. In fact, in the Philippines, there’s a term for people who uses essential oils for healing or those exploring its wonders – “oilbularyo”. The oils have different effect on the body and mind but one particular scent that I like is rosemary as it is said to combat fatigue, mental exhaustion and it smells really fresh too!

The universe’s magic also intervened as Princess from The Mindful Modus shared in her previous post that she’s recently decided to sell her own essential oil inhalers on Shopee. It was exactly what I need – a pocket sized essential oil inhaler of the scents that I already like and trust. Ordered it right away and was delivered shortly after two days.

I tried her three available scents – Dream (lavender and eucalyptus), Focus (rosemary and eucalyptus), and Breathe (lavender and rosemary). I knew before I ordered that I’d like breathe because it’s my two favorite scents from our oil collection at home but I was surprised to find myself really liking her mix of rosemary and eucalyptus for her Focus scent.

So if ever you find yourself dipping your toes on the world of essential oils and would like to test if the hype about it is real, feel free to check out Princess’ oh ma therapie! for affordable personal inhaler sticks. 🙂

gazing at lightbulbs

It was a humid afternoon, sweltering by anyone’s standards. The room was filled with people grouped in their usual places, wrapped in the world of their collective making. The whole space was filled with noise, of thoughts rummaging through everyone’s head spoken clearly aloud.

She was looking straight into his expressive eyes – a look he answered fiercely back as their whole world watched on. Locked in the moment, in their complete perfect silence, everything else was background noise. In the space between, in the silence undisturbed, in the complete absence of words – they felt, they knew. It was theirs for the taking.

Trying to hold his strong gaze, a faint smile appeared on her lips. As quick as a blink, they were snapped back to reality – in acceptance, in surrender.

Replay Or Rewind

If you had a chance for a “do-over” in life, what would you do differently?

At the young age of 6, I got tested and was said to be ‘gifted’ by a respectable doctor from a research facility here in the Philippines. My grandparents who were living with me during that time deemed it necessary to hone the talent that I was given with. Unlike most children my age, I did not get to experience the typical childhood life outside of the house – I did not get to play physical games with peers, ride around town on my bike, or simply have playmates. Heck, my childhood best friend is my classmate who I competed with for gold medals during quiz bees and school competitions. I was a total nerd but it wasn’t because my grandparents forced me to study or hindered me from a normal childhood life – it was because as early as 7 years old, I already liked to rise up to the challenges presented to me and they made it seem like finishing at the top of the class was a feat.

Come the end of my high school life, when we were all deciding what course to take that’ll help shape our future. I wanted to do something related to Communication Arts but everyone was telling me that I’d throw away my gifts if I pursue it. I ended up going for a ‘tough’ choice, a course everyone thinks is challenging for most, a degree worth pursuing they say – Electronics and Communication Engineering. Up to now, I don’t know what people should really be doing given this degree.

I got through engineering school even if I didn’t like it in the first place, going through each class thinking that it’s only a challenge to conquer, I looked at complex circuits as riddles to be solved. Then right after graduation, I took the board examination and passed the ultimate test. It made me proud but I wasn’t happy, I wasn’t even satisfied. And yet, my dad was ecstatic and proud of his little girl who has just become a licensed engineer. I will never forget the look on his face. For that alone, if I were given another chance, I still would have taken the degree. Even if it leads me to where I am right now – a place full of confusion.

Well, if I am to go through that again, what’s the whole point of the post? What’s something that I would “do-over” if given a chance to hit the rewind button? There’s only one thing that I could actually think of: I’d let myself experience failure. I will not be scared to lose, to fall down, and fall right flat on my face. It took me 25 years to realize that experiencing failures and rising on your feet again is its own reward and would only make success a bit sweeter. I know, there’s no going back in time, so instead of having to “do-over”, I will let this be a reminder as I continue to shape my future and face the hurdles of fate: winning isn’t everything and there’s no such thing as failures, only lessons learned. 😉

Today, V knows the difference of being ‘good’ and being happy.


I would like to thank Think Talk for nominating for the Liebster Blogger Award and for providing a beautiful set of questions which inspired me to write this post. I feel deeply honored knowing that someone out there appreciates the things I write.

at twenty five.

They called it quarter life crisis,
an existential dilemma one cannot escape.
A phase one simply goes through,
forget even as the worlds keeps on spinning.
A period of confusion and epiphany,
a small hurdle in the long run of fate.
Is this the face of failure or shot in success –
oh such feeling of youth, full of unrest.

In celebration of Bad Poetry Day (18th August), I made a little poem that talks about the ‘bad’ phase one goes through at 25.

ruby woo

the window to her soul –
a peek in the blazing fire
ignites a warmth within,
shows wonder, laughter, sorrow,
brings forth your shivers.
a pale cover of sensation,
the right touch turns vermilion.
lacquer in
ruby woo, scarlet,
a real damsel’s weapon.
the dark, alluring simper,
her greatest poison.


Inspired by my recent MAC haul including the iconic Ruby Woo matte lipstick. Every time I wear the Ruby Woo, I feel like a totally different woman with oozing confidence. Was actually writing a blog post about the recent purchase but it seems that I’m having problems uploading pictures due to the fluctuating internet connection. Let me know your thoughts! 🙂

inside a closed room

A faint light is trying to seep in through the curtains draped with flower patterns of blue and green. The air felt damp – it has been drizzling all night again. Her room sets a scene of a melancholic view – the way the light touches the deep blue wall, the feeling of sadness eminent in the space. Staring at the ceiling, she took a deep breath, what came out was a heavy sigh. Then another.

“Life”, she grumbled to herself. It’s a start of a new day and she knows better than to fill it with worries and the problems of yesterday. She knows better, yes. But the bed is holding on to her, cradling her in the stream of her emotions.

She took another deep breath. 1…2… inhale. 1…2… She let it all out. A series of more focused breathing that made her seem like trapped in a trance if anyone sees her. In her mind, that’s all there is to it – the flow of the air through her nose, her core, her peace. A much needed serenity. Her escape from the harsh toll of reality.

Hurried knocks on the door broke her meditation. It brought her back to the world in a snap. Like a switch that clicked, she gathered up all the courage to face the day that she could muster, all while quickly fixing her hair in a tight bun. Two more banging on the door as she grab hold of the handle.

She knows exactly who is waiting impatiently on the other side of the door – the reason for her fight, the purpose of her being. She looked down and saw the dark brown eyes that resembles hers, the soft warm cheek against the pale weather, the grin that keeps her world spinning. “Mom, I want pancakes”, the little boy demanded.


Tried to write a bit of a short fictional piece inspired by the The Mindful Modus’ Beginners Guide to Mindfulness, and a short chat with my mom after not being able to talk to her for a few weeks.

words enchanting


Skulls and roses,
the heart and the mind,
Thoughts and emotions,
butterflies and bones;
each are alike,
yet each seems to oppose.
*
Through rise and fall,
of celestial orbs;
Through the constant tick and tock
of mechanical clocks;
Through doubts and indecision,
suddenly,
a magical moment found.
*
Years passed,
caged in an enchanted sleep;
Yet in this magical night,
and the splendor of words,
ignites the sleeping beas
t


The notebook in the photo was what I once called as my perfect notebook the moment I laid my eyes on it. I can’t seem to find the courage to start writing on it since it was given to me as a gift. I hold it with so much reverie that I think that my thoughts and my emotions aren’t worthy enough for the blank pages it beholds. In fact, I even searched and bought for a new one. Yet, just only last night, this magical moment happened, and I was finally able to gather up the confidence that I need to start devouring the pages and fill it with my own wonder.


one of those nights

I stare at the keys, taunting me
illuminating blue light, dark thoughts
it’s crazy how these feelings do.
Raw, unfiltered, unmasked
letting it all go in heavy, little presses.
Where to start, how to continue?
Ten thousand more hours I need,
to make little pieces that count.
Trying times, jaded mind,
the white canvas, blank lines
my bunker underneath this mess.
A scream of plea, a cry for help,
created a world to keep me safe.


what the mirror showed

She stared at the mirror, familiarizing her every feature. Trying to hold on to her own identity, the one unstained, untouched by him.

Her eyes – dark as her soul, outlined by a regal thin wall of blue as he said. Her nose – how often does he pinch it when in a playful mood. Her lips – how his brushed it softly, passionately, intensely. Her hair – he has always loved the wild, long curves of her hair. Has always admired how it falls gracefully right down her shoulders and chest.


She stared at the mirror, she can only see traces of him. Traces he left behind when he shut the door. Traces of him all over her body. How badly does she want to take all of him out of her; out of her body, out of her mind, out of her life.


She stared at the mirror.


In her eyes, she see fire. A fire set on her soul. A fire that burns brightly, so bright he could not even touch the surface. A fire so pure, no remnants of him can be found.


She stared at the mirror. Closed her eyes, took hold of her hair. Snip. Snip. Snip. The wild long curves falling recklessly on the ground. Snip. Snip. Snip.

She stared at the mirror. She saw herself.