We all now live in an age where having a smart phone is becoming a part of a standard; where being popular is sexy; where the intelligent is believed only when needed and not when it isn’t convenient.

We have built a society defined by standards and when one member falls short of a check mark, he is labelled abnormal. Abnormal but functional if he manages to be able to compensate for other areas, like being rich, extremely popular, or by being deemed intelligent and convenient. Nowadays, your morality only matters when it does.

We label the ones that do not live like us, think like us, or act like us the abnormal; the non-conformers; non-standard.

And I wonder, what will the world look like from the eyes of a child who grew up not knowing these standards? A child who grew up on tools like the trees, water, and fire and not mobile phones and tablets. A child whose entertainment is based on the difficulty of a task such as cutting down a tree or figuring out how to build a roof. A child that grew up not afraid to say what’s on their mind or to create what he wants because fear is not feared. Fear is embraced then resolved. He does not fear that he fails. He only fears losing the concept in mind. His challenge is himself. A child who is conscious and truly, conscious of how he is and what else he’d like to push to the limit. A child whose moral compass is based on doing what is right and not doing what he only can. Money has no hold on him.

That child probably would look at us all thinking, why are they all busy swiping the surface of those shiny things when it does not do anything else but to check on how other people’s lives are like.

And the darkness unfurls along your toes
Slowly rolling up to your knees
While your eyes are dead set ahead
Staring at the sun slowly hiding under the seas

And it reaches your heaving chest
As the moon starts coming out of the sky
Like a little weak head light
But it shines with all its might

And it covers you up all the way to your head
Disappearing once and for all
As the stars start twinkling above
Like it would never ever fall

And then the slithering silver scatters
Along the side of the shores
You finally see the light
That uncovers them all

And you wonder where all that glory went
That was mighty under the golden light
Is this simply a feeling of regret?
Coming out of your eerie past in the night?

And you wait ‘til the wee hours
Die along with the buzzes and the breeze
As you rock yourself to sleep
Ignoring your senses to be at ease

And then comes the trickle of orange ray
As you blink through the tears
And you welcome the sight of light of day
As it erases all the unspoken fears

But wait not for evening to come
And visit you again, my sweet
For the darkness would never cease to come
And your laughter would turn to sour defeat

I’ve been with my partner for many months now and I can say I am quite the lucky girl. Ours is not a perfect relationship but we get through together.

Yes, we’ve had bad days. Like days I go to the closet and throw in all the clothes I can grab in the duffel bag. Like days I go extremely quiet and unresponsive. Like days I get irritated and sleep alone. And if you might have noticed, it’s all me. His response to all of the above is to literally hold me and never let go. He waits ‘til I calm down. He waits until he gets through to me.

Now, I can make up excuses for being ice cold by using my past experiences, that I’ve been hurt before blah blah, but that’s not applicable in this one. Because this is a man who had seen me as me, got the worst of me, and yet, he still thinks the best of me. This is a man who had sacrificed his personal ego by giving in to my whims like a kiss and a hug in public. A man who would shamelessly carry every thing for me just so I don’t have to strain my back. A man who would exchange every thing he has to see me smile. And no, not a single reason would suffice to leave this man.

And so I never left. Instead, I hold him back when I’m ready. Without using harsh words or breaking anything. Just because I’m angry doesn’t mean I get all bitchy. I just have to nurture the pain that I feel, understand it, and then let go. And then I let him know why I was hurt.

Think a few minutes before you say something when you’re hurt. I know I do because I was not like that before. And believe me when I say that I can say the harshest, most painful things.

A man like mine is a man who deserves to be gently cared for. For he had done nothing but be gentle with me.

10:00 PM | December 11, 2014 | Starbucks, Metrowalk, Ortigas

As I put my 2014 on, light a smoke, and watch these people chatter away the night, I take a puff and inhale this killer smoke slowly.

Sigh.

“You are what you think.” - this is all I can think of right now.

What have I become? I feel like I became this sad little monster

Because I couldn’t decide what to have for lunch, I browsed the web for good reads to kill time and invite sleep in. I found one about insecurities and women. These two apparently cannot be separated since women by nature are security-conscious beings. They place more value on definite decisions and accurate answers over vague and risky actions. But then these are only true for women who are highly aware of their self-worth or pretty much questioning it.

I realized by the end of the article, of which I forgot the title, that I am a woman and I have sooooo many insecurities. I feel ugly and overweight as I am readily reminded on a daily basis. As I am aware I did not get the best set of genes, I really don’t need the excessive reminders from ads, magazines, or commercials that it is so.

Ironic, because earlier today I wore makeup to hide the hideous truth that I was lonely, felt good about myself for few hours… only to end up feeling a whole lot sadder when I come home to an empty house.

I guess insecurity generates questions we never really need to ask. It creates a ladder of standards or improvements that we set ourselves to reach. And those ladders get left behind for others to find, and either successfully conquer it…or miserably fail.