Three little pigs

The day is dry and sunny when a mother and a wife’s heart is beating so hard, breathing heavily yet no tears and scream can come out of her voice, when the body of his husband, the father of her three children, flashed in front of her being burned and roasted to feed a king.

She is drowning in bereavement but she cannot spill the news out to her three little pigs or they will be shattered worse than how shattered she is being. Thus, the mother pig stood up and wore a mask of happy mother amidst the sunny day with its dark aura and went home to tell her little pigs a new fabricated news.

As she arrived, she delivered the excuse she crafted on her way home, telling the three pigs should go out, find their life and seek their fortune, giving them the only money she saved her entire life. As she watch the backs of the excited and the happiest three little pigs, she let out the heavy sobs she was trying to conceal, then she left the house and wander the woods. Never seen again.

The silver moon loomed through the night, the heavy breathing and the grumble of a hungry stomach of a sick, dying young wolf was heard through the silence of the dark. While his father wolf was crying amidst his hunger, worried his son might die sooner. Hence, tomorrow


Chicken soup for the soul

The soul is a transcendental entity equivalent to the universe that gives life, love and character. However, most people forget how magical and mysterious our souls are that they forgot to travel the depths of their being due to the reality that struck them everyday. Here are the ingredients each soul needs to be waken up and live in the reality that  magic exists in the real world if eyes were open to see.


  • 1/2 cup of the ability to be okay with not always being okay
  • 4 cups of the ability to see that everything you experience is a reflection of who you are
  • Whole bowl to connect to life
  • 1 pinch of an understanding that good and bad are subjective
  • 2 tablespoons of gratitude
  • 1 cup of purpose


  1. Pour the 1/2 cup of the ability to be okay with not always being okay. In a bowl where everyone else is, happy people are not those who are happy all the time. Those people does not exist. In life, one should see the beauty out of the normal things and one should appreciate the privilege amidst the difficult times.
  2. Mix 4 cups of the ability to see that everything you experience is a reflection of who you are. You become your own locus of control once you recognize that your experiences are a manifestation of what you are, this will able you to be in control of your own happiness because you choose your own experiences.
  3. Set them aside for a while then prepare a whole genuine ability to connect to life. Learn to turn off your phones and disconnect from your computers, this time open your windows and breathe air. Read books in a coffee shop and drink tea with your friends, then inhale the breeze of how life should be. This time, check your bucket list, because when was the last time you did something for the first time?
  4. Sprinkle 1 pinch of an understanding that good and bad are subjective. It is a matter of perspective, what right to one is wrong to another, therefore, you should not set your standards according to the eyes of those who have closed their wider vision. Always visit the depths of another perception to comprehend how other people became different then compromise.
  5. Put them together then add 2 tablespoons of gratitude is another ingredient necessary for our soul. Being appreciative to every experience we encounter is a show of contentment and gratitude that we cultivate. All the blessings we achieve is something not guaranteed to other people’s lives.
  6. Then the last thing to do to perfect this chicken soup for the soul is to mix the 1 cup of purpose we need to feed our souls. The sense of greater purpose is one fundamental of happiness. To be responsible in your purpose, may it be a sister to your siblings or a teacher to those who craves to learn, and to serve the God you believe in is a fulfillment that gives meaning to your everyday life.

2000 chronicles

Year 2000- the biggest phenomenon that brought consciousness and wake to the universe and to the world, the day these eyes laid on the most beautiful strong woman she could imagine, singing the cry of an angels brought in heaven. The year I was born. The year the world celebrate its turn of the millennium.

Many have happened when I was about to wake from my mind’s consciousness, while I was given life, 113 lost theirs when the Concorde crashed in France, which brought a phenomenal tragedy all around the world.

Year 2005- I took the first step to instilling the wisdom ans knowledge given by the school. It was when I bloom into a dandelion, ready to explore the different depths and sides of the world. I met different faces and different smiles. I was into my most invulnerable being, without fear and care in the world. This was the year I was taken into another dimension, another unfamiliar world, when I was almost taken into the world of elves. A vivid image of small little children that appeared from nowhere, laughing and running around near the balete tree, then in an instant I was unconscious and then no more memories came back about it.

Year 2012- I have to bid farewell to the laughters that bonded with my smile. I graduated from middle school, and I was aware it will be the time I have to leave my childhood and meet new friends. June 2012 it was raining and noises were all over the crowd, I was about to enter the new school that will hone the character of myself I was not yet able to find.

Year 2015- Amidst tge handsome tuxedos and glittering gowns are faces full of expectations ,glee and glamour. While I was dancing with another man I do not know, and the man I want to have all my dances with are lost in a different crowd, probably, painfully, dancing with another girl.

Year 2015- The first time I said ‘I love you’ with the readiness to commit myself with a person who has a hidden talent and perfection. This time, I know I was captivated with the spell that cursed me to fall in love.

Year 2015-2016- I was in the middle of letting go and holding on. I was in the middle of a confused mind and heart, worrying about whom among the two hearts should I keep.

Year 2016- 2017- The time i met the worst enemy I could ever have. The year I realized I was being strangled by the huge arms of depression. This was the year I was too afraid I might lost in the hallucination of pain and fear that I might find myself unnoticeable, burying a knife deep my heart and slashing it into my pulse. This was the year I found myself afraid, numb, unrecognizable, hollow.

Today- I am looking for myself.

How TO make blueberry cheesecake

While growing up, the truth behind the cartoons you used to watch begins to reveal the real face of life, and it is a mean girl dressed with innocence. The walks became steeper and narrower, and the innocence will be dirtied with the brutality of mind, mouth and eyes. Notwithstanding the existence of explicitness in life, you should remember that there still lies a calming benevolence amidst the raging ocean.

To be happy, the first thing you have to do is to recognize the sadness you cannot name. It is an entity in the universe you need to define and acknowledge, because it is the rumpelstiltskin you can’t unravel. Perhaps the heart of your melancholy is that you cannot reconnect with who you used to be, thus, you missed the days in the seesaw when the sun was setting and the autumn leaves are falling, and the days when you hear lullabies while you sleep.

Once you have named the rumpelstiltskin that worries your being, you will have to  open the eyes of your eyes. You should listen to your soul as it whispers that what you yearned for is contentment and appreciation instead of perfecting yourself to fit to society’s standards. You shall open the eyes of your eyes and give life another glance, let your heart awaken to the transforming power of gratefulness.

Lastly, you should learn that happiness and success are two universes apart, although they meet at some ends and they might have close appearances, eternal bliss and success are different. And you should choose eternal bliss over constant success. Eternal bliss is a universe filled with the heaven of life dventure, calmness and peacefulness.And it steps on the earth of memories and appreciation, this world will reveal the beauty and magic in everything while constant success requires continuous work and time for maintainnance. Do not try to remake yourself into something you’re not, but make the best out of what God made. 

I am a reincarnation of a Woman who broke free

Three words my soul kept whispering: “Break free. Again.”

In the present, this exterior is imprisoned in the criteria of a modernized city, framed by the blend of skyscrapers and rusted roofs , in a continuous infinite cemented  road and the judging eyes of the toxic air. And from every corner of this unknown streets, my eyes are searching for a familiar face, for a familiar place, a familiar feeling, but the only familiar i found is the panic from this claustrophobic feeling of being caged in the time frame I don’t belong to and the standards I am not fit into.

There were images. A sepia-colored words that depict the pictures and scenes of a vintage place with a brutal purple and blue warmth of sweat that swarms around the cell of my soul’s eyes. This was the woman I was before, held by the poor expectations of different sleeves and hat, and was asked by various shawls to cover her bruises and scars sent by heaven. But she won’t allow, because the only bruises and scars her body was marked are her name and her character- the exact title and definition of who she is. The only shawl she will allow to cover her  shoulders is her skin, and she will never let the society composed of perfectionist eyes to dress her to their standards. So she break free from the chains that held her back from reaching eternal bliss.

This mind is starting to believe in reincarnation, once she realized that her body and her soul are two different worlds. This woman- I, wants to pull her skirts up and run the path wildly that leads to the life of the real world. I want to sneak out at the dangers of the night and watch how the world goes while all people slumbers. I want to play different sports. I want to dance my heart out to the loudest beat without feeling embarrassed. I want to laugh so hard until my stomach hurts. I want to seek mountains, climb the top, breathe its air and watch the view of the endless land beneath its height. I want to learn how to swim the ocean, I want to swim its vast and endless sight of the engulfing, wild waters, I want to wander its depths and race with the million creatures living in it. I want to climb the highest trees I will meet on my journey and not be afraid of the scratches I might get from them. I want to dive the skies, I want to jump from the plane and spread the wings of my arms, then shout my name on the clouds and not be afraid of falling. I want to learn how to fly a plane and swarm around the clean white and blue skies, watching the miniature of the world under me. I want to watch the natural beauty of earth, and see the northern lights and the universe against the thin curtain of the night while I was curled up in my blanket. I want to go in a road trip with the most important people of my life and sing so loud in the road, then camp on the mountains.

 I want to go wild, I want an adventure while my knees are able. I want to have a life. I want to break free. The woman inside me does. But the body I was locked in is imprisoned behind trying to be the normal, decent woman the society means.

If this is the definition of normal. Then normal is scary. 

Who I am today, is a woman I can’t yet define and recognize. The name I was ask to hold is unfamiliar and the character within me is a fragile broken entity. This woman aches to be known, she craves to be recognized, and the tears she cried every night is from the exhaustion of pouring out words from her hollow mind, trying to define her, but the words that came out are shallow despite feeling all the pain and forlorn sensations she needs, to craft a meaning and a purpose. The soul inside this body, is a woman who wants to break free. Tired from the criteria set for her individuality and the marks that define herself. This woman has the wounds she’s tired of wearing- the measurements that outline who she is. This woman is the same woman who broke free. Tired of this feeling she had from her past life, she kept whispering the words “Break free. Again”

-Photo and Art by Stefan Pabst.


The scariest ghost that keeps watching me through my sleep, wakes me during the silence of the dark. It creeps on the walls and on the ceiling, calling my name in an eerie voice. The shrill cry of another ghost from under my bed kept bothering my soul, and the thump and bellowing of an angry soul inside the closet wakes my consciousness and my greatest fear that keeps visiting my lonely dark room every night- the one thing I can’t talk about with anyone is the character and name of my evil ghost- depression.

Concealed depression is a tricky evil clown that plays hide and seek with me in the cafeteria while eating with my friends, and during vacation on the beach side with my family. There were laughter and memories of happy events however, the ghost of mine lurks behind my back whispering threats and worst scenarios in my head. My heart was held captive by its tight grip, I was unable to breathe from stopping myself to express out.

Depression is the name I am not allowed to tell to anyone, she’s a ghost concealed within my being, cursed to her core and destined not to be told about. She changes my reflection in the mirror into her image- a spitting picture of a scary shifting exaggerated faces, tempting you to move towards her and resent the image you were originally given. This is why you’ll hate yourself, for not being enough, always not being enough.

I drift to the world unknown as my thoughts became wild and unrealistic, I came to see the beauty and emancipation from the rope in the ceiling , not worrying about the future anymore, no more tears to waste over and no more face to be scared of. I am accompanied with the lullaby which the lyrics whisper to slash my pulse not to tell anyone about it.

The voices in my head kept telling me not to worry about anything. But depression sees the worst to everything, it made me feel confused whether the ugliness she makes me see is a good thing or not. I overthink most of the time, and paranoia is striking me that makes me worry about the simple things that doesn’t even have meaning. Depression is a ghost that can be seen through a third eye placed in the cage of your heart, it is a pest that bothers you and threatens yourself, tempting you to watch the entrance of paradise and memories through jumping off a height.

All depression ever wanted is for herself to leave her alone as much as I like to leave myself alone, she doesn’t like her name. Depression- a word that is defined as worst and hated by many. A name when heard makes anyone murder their minds. Depression is a ghost locked within herself unable to free herself out of her definition and isolation. She may be haunting me but like how heavy her weight is on my shoulders, she is also a woman rejected by many and so she created a name in me.

I don’t like her company, but in the midst of the dark, in early mornings, my eyes are open listening to her eerie cries, trying to console her. And so everyday, I have to face her and listen to the songs of her shrill cry. How many  thoughts of attempt have I had to end up hanging on that rope for my ghost to leave me alone? Countless.