Goodbye, Philippines Part 2

This is so fucked up. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

This is really making me consider going to Canada. Apply for a graduate school scholarship there (but it’s fucking cold), go with my kids (free basic education) and kapoof! Or to New Zealand but I may just end up milking cows because they don’t need my skills there. They have enough of my type there.

Anyway, it’s not an option right now since my passport is going to expire next month and I still couldn’t get an appointment with the Dept of Foreign Affairs. WHY IS IT SO HARD to get a simple government service??? I need to fly to Singapore in May and June.

Meanwhile, this other table shows that the bigger the N=, the smaller the gap between Marcos and other candidates. So there might be some *hope* there.

The other surveys’ sample sizes are 1,500-3,000 vs RP MDF’s which had an N=10,000

Also in 2016, Leni trailed in the surveys but she won in unlikely places.

Praying for a miracle right now.


I’m on alprazolam right now but it’s not doing me any good. I slept at 3 am today and woke up at 5 am. what kind of sleep is that???

Melatonin good for a month. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

My psych said I can take melatonin because of my sleeping issues. She can’t just jack up my dosage of alprazolam–that would really mess me up. This was also prescribed to Covid patients who have trouble fixing their body clocks. Why it’s only now I asked about melatonin from my doctor, I don’t know. Maybe I was scared if it has any conflict with alprazolam. Or maybe I was afraid of no longer waking up. If I didn’t have kids, yeah, why not? But I have kids and I love them so I can’t risk dying.

But this sleeping problem is really affecting my productivity.


My friend, B, has booked herself a one-month stay in Boracay and she asked me if I want to join her for our own version of “Eat, Love, Pray” hiatus from the world. I said, why not? I’m about to send my girls to their grandma to attend an entrance exam review school for the summer and I can work remotely in a resort with B. I said I can join her after the girls’ birthday. She and I will be kite boarding every morning before we go to work.

My older sister also said the same thing; she wanted to book a month’s stay in some seaside resort. I said Anilao will be good since she doesn’t have to fly and she is a certified scuba diver so she has something to do. So I need to find a place for her so I can join her from time to time.

I told B about my solo Palawan trip and she said she could tag along. We could do El Nido; I’ll see how long we can stay there.

I just need to get rid of this toxicity that surrounded me since Friday. It doesn’t help that the girls kept looking at the girl whom J cheated me with on Facebook and kept watching her vlogs. “Mommy, she kept on talking about ‘Do you want to earn extra money?’ but she only shows her boobs!'” I told Twin A to stop it because I don’t want to know! My girls call her bakla because they said she looked like a gay man cross-dresser. It was cruel, I know. Maybe they are that angry with J. They refuse to refer to him as tito anymore. It was my friend, Jo, who lives in the same condo who told me about her. She always sees the girl walking along the riverside. “Yeah, she’s the type who wants a quick ticket to live abroad. Many of them in this condo who are with foreigners are like that. You know the type,” she said. Yeah. Many of them love to hang out in Poblacion, Makati. In the red light district, feeling like it’s the coolest place to be. That’s why I always beg K not to book dinners there (being a gay man, yeah, he likes it there).

I remember working in a Starbucks branch there with J because we were meeting with a startup guy. We saw an old Korean uncle with his very young plaything. J commented, “Very typical of these old uncles.” Little did he know that he has become an old uncle himself who got his own maldita hija de puta.

Jo said, “I can’t believe that he also chased M*** at the same time!”

I said, “Ah yeah, you were also there in that E*** awards party, right?”

Ugh. The world is really, really small.


So yeah, I think two weeks or just a week in Boracay will do wonders. Kite boarding in the morning. B and I can have our breakfast along Bulabog beach. Then work. She cooks and I also cook. Run along the beach for exercise until sunset. I can take a week off in May or June for Palawan–if I’m not flying to Singapore or Thailand. B just came back from the US and I haven’t asked her yet regarding her status with her guy in MD. But we have all the time in the world to talk about that in April. She just needs to go to Masbate after April or in March to visit some family properties.

It would be nice to get away from all these. I’m getting tired of the city but I really don’t want to be near family. What to do???

The world seems bigger than both of us

Yet it seems so small when I begin to cry

– Splender –

Ah, truer words have never been spoken.

10 steps forward, 2 steps back

“I also felt that way,” my friend told me this morning. “It took me a long time to process and two years later I still think about it. But it’s a big thing that I realized slowly my worth to my family, friends, and work. It’s a big deal that I know myself and what values and dreams I have.”

She continued: “If you know yourself and your values and dreams, it’s a big factor in accepting yourself and you are both different–it will be easier for you to rise from this challenge. It’s not because you found someone else but because you know who you are and you are happy with who you are.”

“You need to look at yourself and appreciate what you have and what you are. Because he cannot take that away from you, unless you let him.”

Words of encouragement from friends are what keep me from falling off the rails.

That’s why I tried to find myself because I lost so much…I lost almost everything. But he can’t take away my essence.

I clearly remember him asking me, “Will you be my home?” I offered him a home. Then he threw it back to my face. He must have been play-acting at that time he asked me.

In any case, I am still home to friends and family. K says that he loves it that my apartment feels homey and I’ve always cooked for friends when they’re here. My friends are always welcome to stay when they are weary. This is where my cousin runs to when she needs to. Because I am home to many of my loved ones. My arms are always open to those who needed a hug, love, and assurance. And as my friend told me this morning, be happy that you have that capacity to give because many don’t.

J admonished me one time. “Why do you keep on saying these positive things when things are bad?” he told me bitterly while we were walking around University Avenue for exercise. He was having a hard time at work. I told him, “because you need support and I believe in you,” I said.

I guess he didn’t value that.

He didn’t value anything about me.

But he will no longer dictate my value.

I am somebody a guy would be proud to walk hand-in-hand with and I don’t have to dress like a hooker to be viewed as beautiful. I am somebody who makes government officials think and sit up on their chairs when I quiz them on national television. I am somebody who can be a panelist in an international investor conference, quizzing global CEOs and CFOs on stage to extricate important points and not just go through uninteresting questions. I am one of the resources tapped by our global HQ to train employees on public speaking. I’ve been training reporters for more than a decade. I inherited my parents’ brains and I’m not just some bimbo pretending to be more important than I really am. My job title is not empty. People take me seriously and when I speak, they listen. As one Finance official told me, I am a no nonsense journalist.

And my team values me. Somebody who left the team wanted to come back when he learned I would soon be heading the team. I have lifted others from other teams to expand their horizons and with my encouragement, they have shifted roles, climbed up, and are now discovering their true worth.

I am a good friend, a good daughter, and had been a good partner. I have many imperfections but it’s ok, at least I am not evil. I can still drink like a sailor and I’m cool to have around–that’s why my guy friends voted to make me as one of their co-hosts because I can understand whatever rocks their boats and they feel safe with me.

To my children, I am their world–for now.

I had worn so many hats for J: a lover, a nurturer, a domestic goddess, a cheerleader, a business partner, a friend, a sounding board, an adventurer–and so much more. I understood his interests and hobbies without any effort at all because my interests run along the same course. I don’t find his geekiness weird or a quirk; I’m a geek as well. He didn’t have to pretend with me at all even if he did because I accepted him as he was. Pity he didn’t see all these.

He will never find another one like me. And he just threw me away.

I am down in the dumps again. I have taken 10 steps forward, two steps back with this latest setback.

But I will rise again. This mental breakdown was just caused by so much trauma. I’m stronger than this.


Since I slept at past 5 am today, I was more useless today than previous days. I still managed to have several calls, got some leads, and worked on some stories with other colleagues from other parts of Asia. But basically the writing part is still stuck because my brain is half asleep. I was supposed to have dinner at 6 pm tonight in Makati with some journo friends (from competing international news agencies) but I was too sleepy to drive so it was a no-go.

So I just turned to my garden, to make my hands busy.

Carnations. Because the national campaign is PINK. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My rose is blooming again. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

Once I have my own real garden, it would be blooming with more flowers and vegetables.

Because I am a nurturer. A creator. I am Creation.

Dark soul

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

This one will take me longer than I expected because this is completely dark…like my soul right now. This is just rough sketch, no textures and dimension yet, no proper human figure, since I need to study the shadows and light first. Once I figure out the proper chiaroscuro, I can translate this to watercolor–maybe.

This scene reminds of Robert Frost and Edgar Allan Poe combined.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.

Robert Frost

I gravitate now towards the imagery painted by Edgar Allan Poe. Dark. Wicked. My heart is full of anger and hatred. Especially that the woman I got cheated on with has a name and face (although she looks like a transvestite, my friends and my daughters said; all boobs but no substance). What angers me is the fact that everything was a lie. I was led on. From the very beginning. All the memories I cherished now have no meaning. Can’t help but feel like I was that Bloomberg reporter who was used by Martin Shkreli a.k.a. Pharma Bro. The difference is that she’s still under this illusion that he really cared for her when he already dropped the bomb like it was just all on her side, “Mr. Shkreli wishes Ms. Smythe the best of luck in her future endeavors.”


Arts and humanities have saved my life/sanity (somehow…I’m still working on that sanity part with my shrink). As my high school Literature teacher said: Science can tell you how your eyes produce tears and its composition. Literature (or humanities in general), on the other hand, tells you why there are tears…

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann’d:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray …

Christina Rosetti (1830-94)

This was my favorite poem when I was in high school. I remember I did a watercolor painting with these words written on the painting. I remember the watercolor painting had a cliff against an orange-pink sky. Similar to this photo below:

Laguna Lake, Angono, Rizal. Photo by CallMeCreation.com

I’m channeling all my negative energy/feelings to whatever my hands can do, with the help of the arts I learned throughout my years in school. I may not be good but at least I can do something. My mom said she is envious of me that I have outlets like writing, music, and drawing to express grief. She didn’t have any that’s why the Catholic church was her only solace. She said without the church, she would have gone insane because of my father.

Yep, getting badly treated by men runs in my family. That’s why I am open to my children about this so they won’t commit the same mistake. My mom’s mistake was she defended my father and hid everything. She normalized a man’s bad treatment of his partner and that “you just have to understand where he’s coming from.” That was a fatal mistake.

My girls said, “No Mommy, we will not get married. We won’t date.” Twin I was most hurt because she admired Tito J. She said she even picked up tea drinking because of him. She always tried finishing her vegetables because that was Tito J expected of her. Now she has sworn off men–I feel bad for her having her heart broken like this. She looked up to him. She said he was only scolding them for the bad habits because he wanted them to be better. Twin A said Tito J was right about the iPads and school. The only thing that they didn’t like about him was he squeezed their cheeks too much that it hurt.

It was another thing that bugs me. I let him hurt them…I knew he didn’t like them so he resorted to hurting them. That was so wrong on my part. That’s why I blamed myself for putting him first before them.

I want my girls to be closer to my brother, physically and emotionally, so at least they would have a better role model. I want them to be closer to my brother’s sons. I don’t want them to have unhealthy relationships with men when they become adults. Proper training and open discussion can hopefully guide them when it comes to friendships and romantic relationships. I didn’t have those. Good thing I had good male friends in high school and college–even now with fellow journalists. I was lucky I had good platonic relationships with them. However, when it comes to romantic relationships, I just picked up whatever I grew up with, which was not healthy. And these are things I learned growing up: try to keep it to yourself; give all your unconditional love because love conquers all; be a doormat; make excuses for him and understand where he is coming from; it’s ok if he hurts you because you can win back his love…ALL BULLSHIT. All I learned from my mom.

I don’t have the heart to tell her all of these because…what’s the point? She will just feel bad forever. She already felt bad when she saw how my marriage crumbled. She told me she saw herself in me.

Fuck it. I walked away from it and sashayed into a more evil story. Now mom, you still see yourself in me???

Long have I longed, till I am tired
Of longing and desire;
Farewell my points in vain desired,
My dying fire;
Farewell all things that die and fail and tire.

Christina Rosetti

3:57 am. I need sleep. This anxiety is really killing me. Being angry and sad at the same time is never good for me. I really wish I could do an Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and just erase everything. Be blissfully ignorant of this kind of pain. K asked me, I thought you’ve already accepted that he was not a good person? I said, “I know, but somehow I naively believed that in the beginning it was real, so I kept the memories because those were the only redeeming things left of him. Now I realized I was completely wrong. Now it hurts me even more that even those memories I held of him were wrong. It’s like you loved your parents so much, unconditionally, and then they betrayed you. That all the things you thought all your life were the truth were really lies. That they fed you lies. And now you are trying to live your truth but their lies continue to follow you to haunt you. Now how do you think I can heal?! I was getting successful at it and then he throws this curve ball. You know how hard I worked at it, K. You are the one who was there from the beginning. I tried so hard, K. You know that.”

Time check: 4:14 am.

I guess I won’t sleep tonight, huh?

How are you?

Friends had been asking me, “How are you?”

I sent them this sketch:

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

No need for words. Because words aren’t enough.

There are times when writers fail but visual artists succeed in conveying indescribable emotions. That’s why I appreciate artists who could take an image to the next level. Writing is a very complex cognitive process and if your heart and brain are not in sync, it’s nearly impossible to finish the task. And my brain and heart are already tired finding the right words. That’s why I resorted to drawing again. It’s more of the emotions pushing every pencil stroke. You just have to think about where the light is coming from–chiaroscuro. Today’s drawing is composed of soft lines because I want to be nicer to myself. Yesterday was all about harsh and angular lines because I was very angry. I’m debating whether I should complete tonight’s sketch or I leave it as is, because the feeling it evokes is enough.

Despite my emotional state today, I still managed to have a call, finish an analysis piece, and work on some emails. I NEED TO SLEEP! I have an interview with a CEO of a global company tomorrow morning. Oh God, help me sleep.


It’s 2:37 am. Been waking up every 30 mins or an hour. But this shouldn’t happen because I just took alprazolam at 10 pm. I’m so fucked up.

Please, let me sleep in peace. I don’t deserve this PTSD.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned

You Ought To Know – Alanis Morisette

I want you to know, that I am happy for you
I wish nothing but the best for you both
An older version of me
Is she perverted like me?
Would she go down on you in a theater?
Does she speak eloquently
And would she have your baby?
I’m sure she’d make a really excellent mother

‘Cause the love that you gave that we made
Wasn’t able to make it enough for you
To be open wide, no
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me
You’d hold me until you died
‘Til you died, but you’re still alive

And I’m here, to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair, to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

You seem very well, things look peaceful
I’m not quite as well, I thought you should know
Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity?
I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner
It was a slap in the face
How quickly I was replaced
And are you thinking of me when you fuck her?

‘Cause the love that you gave that we made
Wasn’t able to make it enough for you
To be open wide, no
And every time you speak her name
Does she know how you told me
You’d hold me until you died
‘Til you died, but you’re still alive

And I’m here, to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair, to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

‘Cause the joke that you laid in the bed
That was me and I’m not gonna fade
As soon as you close your eyes, and you know it
And every time I scratch my nails
Down someone else’s back I hope you feel it
Well, can you feel it?

Well I’m here, to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair, to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

Well I’m here, to remind you
Of the mess you left when you went away
It’s not fair, to deny me
Of the cross I bear that you gave to me
You, you, you oughta know

Well, not really quickly replaced. I was cheated on. There you go. I am so fucking angry right now.

Sleepless

I no longer know what to do with my head and hands. I can’t sleep. My heart is breaking into a million pieces but is still held by a flimsy tape.

Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com
Art and photo by CallMeCreation.com

I hate drawing hands. I’ll redo the hands later today after observing my own hands.

This is how I feel today. I don’t know how to channel this pain. I no longer know how to express this since words aren’t enough. Singing it isn’t enough. I need to express it graphically to make it raw. To make it more real, more tangible. Like shooting an arrow straight to the heart.

I may have to buy a big sketch pad and this Muji notebook for my work notes will not do.