Fragments of the Quiet Mind

It’s not the knife that breaks you. It’s the hand you thought would never hold one. I’ve had people talk behind my back. I’ve been insulted, excluded, underestimated. I’ve had strangers throw shade, coworkers act petty, random people online say stupid things. It stings for a second, but I forget about it by the next day. Because honestly, I expect that from people who don’t know me. Who have no investment in who I am. It doesn’t really get in. But what stays—the thing I carry—isn’t from enemies. It’s from people I trusted.  And it always catches me off guard. Every single time. Because you never expect it from them . The ones you let in. The ones who knew your soft spots. The ones who said, “I’m here, always.” The people who didn’t just know your story—they were in it. And then, somehow, they become the ones who hurt you in ways no stranger ever could. It’s never loud. It’s not some explosive betrayal with dramatic exits and slammed doors. No, it’s quieter than that. It’s the u...

Sa 4 na araw na ako’y nagbakasyon sa probinsya upang mag proxy sa kasal ng nakababata kong kapatid, ako’y walang ginawa doon kundi makipag ‘stag party’ gabi gabi. OO, pinasosyal ko lang pero ang totoo, stag party sa lingwahe ko ay walang iba kundi inuman.  Sa mahigit 25 years ko ng nakikipag inuman (bata pa po ako ha? walang kwentahan ng edad), narealize kong madami dami palang unwritten rules pagdating dito.  Kung kaya’t ang topic ko ngayo’y about these rules. Bago makipag shot, mas magandang basahin ito dahil di natin alam, this can be useful to you. :) 1. Matutong makisama sa nagyayaya            Kapag ika’y niyaya ng mga tambay na tumagay, Hindi maaaring sa bawat yaya nila ay puro hindi na lang ang iyong sagot. Minsan, kelangan magpabigay upang maiwasan din ang samaan ng loob sa mga kapitbahay (at minsan eh aakalain nilang sa paningin mo eh mas nakakataas ka sa kanila). Di naman necessary na mag stay ka dun pero dapat matuto kang makisama...

1.  Hindi ang pagsisimba kada Linggo o ang pagdarasal kada oras ang basehan ng pagiging mabuting tao kundi kung papaano ang aplikasyon ng pananalig at pananampalataya ng tao sa kanyang pamumuhay. Ang pananalig ay di nakikita kung gaano kalaki ang loyalty mo sa religion mo kundi kung gaano kalalim ang connection mo sa pinaniniwalaan mo . Hindi lamang sa simbahan maaring makita ang Maykapal kundi ito’y makikita rin sa atin kalooban. Minsan kailangan lang nating manahimik saglit at makinig, eventually, mararamdaman din natin yung connection. 2. " The universe is not made up of atoms, it is made up of tiny stories " ika nga ni Joseph Gordon-Levitt  sa kanyang children's book na the Tiny book of Tiny Stories, sabayan pa natin ng "The world is made up of facts, not of things" na sinabi ng pilosopong si Wittgenstein sa kanyang Tractatus. Napaka radikal na sabihing ang pisikal na anyo ng mundo ay walang katotohanan, di naman yan ang punto. Maganda ding pagisipan na s...

The desire to be alone at times in order to understand oneself does not necessarily mean that one is shutting oneself off from others. Sometimes, it is simply because one does not want others to be affected by their own depression, or because they need time to understand a certain aspect of their personality. Moving away from others is done for both our and their sake. Unfortunately, not many people would understand this, and some may even view it as pompousness, leading to negative comments and hate. Although we are not responsible for what others think of us, it can still be painful to hear the negative words and stories that people use to bring others down. Life is like this. No matter how you struggle to move forward, there will always be people who would prove you otherwise. It doesn’t only happen in schools or in work, but it happens in almost every conceivable place and time. As critics, these people would wait for you to do something wrong or say something stupid – which is the...

When twilight descends, as slumber draws near, 'Tis not the venomous words of foes that linger, But in the hush of companions, a cherished sphere. For in the depths of night's quiet embrace, The echoes of enmity slowly fade away, Replaced by whispers of friendship and grace. The wounds inflicted by adversaries' spite, Though painful and cruel in their transient might, Hold no lasting weight, no enduring might. Instead, 'tis the stillness of loyal hearts, The solace found in unspoken devotion, That etches itself upon memory's arts. When shadows dance and the world grows dim, The tender silence of friends speaks volumes, A symphony of trust and kinship within. So, as sleep beckons, reflect on this truth, That amidst life's trials and its endless bends, It's in the silence of friends, a treasure aloof.

Maybe the cure for anything isn’t grand. Maybe it’s not found in redemption arcs or second chances. Maybe it’s just this— Music. Coffee. Smoke. The holy trinity of the broken who still try to feel. I don’t go a day without them. Music drips through my veins like morphine. It doesn’t ask anything from me—just lets me be. I keep Korn on repeat—yeah, I know, not everyone gets it. Their sound is abrasive to the polished, but to me, it’s a mirror. Every note, a scream I’ve been too tired to let out. They’ve kept me alive longer than some people have. Angst. That beautiful, shapeless thing. It doesn’t tell you whether you’re okay or not. It just sits with you in the in-between. You’re not sad. You’re not fine. You’re a suspended breath. A body between pulses. It’s not even pain, not really. Just the haunting suspicion that you’ve felt too much and nothing all at once. And when that feeling builds—when it claws up my spine and fogs my thoughts—I write. Not for applause. Not for people. J...

“We outgrow people the same way stars abandon light—quietly, irreversibly.” There’s a strange kind of grief that doesn’t come with funerals or heartbreak songs. It just settles in—quietly, like dust on a shelf no one touches anymore. It begins when conversations feel forced, when silences grow louder than shared laughter used to be. No fight. No betrayal. Just… stretch. Distance. A slow fade of alignment. You try to ignore it. You meet up, talk about safe things—weather, shows, work. But you feel it in your body, don’t you? The gentle pull away. Not because you stopped loving them, but because you stopped recognizing yourself in the reflection of their eyes. They stayed where you left them. Or maybe you were the one who drifted off-course. Either way, the shapes no longer fit. The same jokes don’t land. The same stories feel like reruns. Nostalgia becomes the last thing holding the room together. You want to say something—but there’s nothing cruel to say. Because they didn’t do anyt...