Nostalgic Getaway

I wish I could have shown you how amazing the stars looked up there. I was only out on the side of the road leaning against the car for a few minutes, but it was enough to capture the blanket of the shimmering night sky in my mind. It reminded me of that one night years ago when I was on the side of the road overlooking my city. It was one of those nights. I vaguely remember that one, but I remember seeing a shooting star. I don’t even remember what I wished for back then.

But tonight was different, especially since the skies weren’t drowned by light pollution. I could see the milky way and bask in the silence of nature. It was just for a few minutes, but it was enough. Enough for me to find peace from the busyness of the city life.

Most of us spent a little over a day up in the mountains, but it was well worth the quick getaway. Celebrating Sylvia’s birthday with the company of good friends in a cozy little cabin up in Big Bear was an awesome experience, especially since it was a relaxing one. Homemade food, board games, adventures at the lake. Amidst all these activities, it helped calm my inner self. I’ve been so swamped lately, and my voice has still been recovering, that most of the time I listened to other people’s stories. It was a relief because I miss just listening and having that passive side of myself be put on drive. Also, walking through those streets gave me nostalgic feelings of winter as I was passing by the same landmarks I used to go to when I had been up there with my other friends for snowboarding.

I wish I had more moments like these, but my schedule for August is already booked for more adventures. Yes, I’m thankful, however I always feel that the weekends aren’t long enough. Even the weekdays don’t give me a chance to breathe. On the bright side, I’m always grateful that I have the opportunity to spend it with great company. I need another dose of the milky way.

Musings of a Lost Voice

It’s day three, and I haven’t been able to hear myself speak since. Just a whispering silence like a passing breeze is all what’s left of me now. Being silenced has its perks though, you know? It’s gotten me back to my roots. It’s allowed me to remember how I used to be. Before I had the courage to speak. Before I had the strength to sing. I didn’t always carry a tune. I wasn’t always capable of streaming and being this lively person in front of the camera. In fact, it was only through writing where I was able to speak my mind. It was through pen and paper where people could discover who I was on a personal level and see these hidden facets of me.

I remembered her this late evening. The girl who stammered while putting her thoughts together just to spew them out through her mouth in chaotic fashion. Her mind was filled with these whirlwind of thoughts like an unkept file cabinet. Every night, she made it a goal to lay out her mind in the digital space, keeping a log of daily moments. Most people have trashed their diary entries from decades past, whether they be scribbled in Xanga, LiveJournal, Blogspot, what have you. But not her. Since she was eleven years young, she’s kept each page. Looking back at her past self, she cringes at her word choices and her immature dialogue. However, it was a part of her she refused to erase even up to this day. It’s reminded her of how far she’s come. How far this journey has taken her.

As the years passed, the entries became shorter, the frequency became lesser, and the tone of her writings had changed. As she approached her late teens and early adulthood, she mostly wrote when she was sad and struggling, which was the rarest of occasions, fortunately. She was too busy living her life and being happy, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; it’s just that since she was swept up in life’s euphoria, it almost seemed that it never happened since there wasn’t a written memory of it in place. That’s not true; she was just living in the moment. And that what she continues to do.

It wasn’t until I lost my voice that I realized how important to me it has become. Since I don’t even speak for half the week, maintaining that work persona, it’s almost as if I’ve lost a part of me once again. Since this has happened, life sure loves to throw in these little curveballs to see if I can swing it out of the park.

Twitch Affiliates were granted subscribe buttons a little over a week ago. And with my life’s “wonderful” timing, I haven’t been able to stream as much as I’d like to. And so, I’ve felt guilty for not delivering as much as I could. First off, I have been surprised and overwhelmed that people would even subscribe to me in the first place. I’m just a girl who just loves to play games, sing, and have a good time with good company. What else can I offer?

I recently just got invited to sing at an open mic by the same person who put me up on the acoustic stage years back. What impeccable timing, eh? It’s been years since I’ve performed in front of a live audience. Still, to this day, I maintain the same stance; put me on stage to talk, I’ll freeze up in nervousness. Put me on stage to sing, and we’re golden.

Let’s see if it’ll happen. Only time will tell when I’ll get my voice back. Until then, I’m back to keeping this file cabinet intact.


Gabe Bondoc came out with a brand new EP called “Twelve” today. As the world slips into the mainstream sounds of EDM, I still hold my heart close to acoustic jams. Listening to these songs brings a smile to my face and a tinge of sadness. I would have liked to share these songs with him since both of us enjoyed Gabe Bondoc’s music.

Nowadays, the triggers come and go more often than not. I’m remembering memories I never thought I’d remember. And while those memories are pleasant for the most part, I’m not bitter, but rather sad. Why wouldn’t I be? When I see these pieces of us cascading with smiles and laughter? What saddens me the most is thinking that the most important person to me may never be a part of my life again. That he would choose not to initiate a conversation with me. That he would not bother to be there for me even as a friend. It’s the fear that if the worst would happen to me, would he bother to even be there for me at all?

October is in two months. There’s the possibility of our circle of friends getting together. It’s almost been four months since we’ve been apart. As much as I’d love to see everyone again, especially him for the most part, I don’t think I have the strength to. Then again, as someone else had mentioned, it’s two months away, and how I feel could change in two months.

Perhaps. We’ll see.

“Twelve” keeps on playing. All I could think of is that I miss talking to my best friend.

When Fantasy Becomes Reality

That was the title of one of the earliest website layouts I had. Funny enough, I feel like it places such a significance with how my life is now. I know I used to write and blog a lot. When I would write, it would be to vent or contemplate on whatever I’m currently struggling with. I guess that’s what writing is. Just another outlet for me. For the last five years, I haven’t written that much. And when I did write, it was for that kind of reason. To vent any sort of frustration or sadness I had. And when everything was going great in my life, I hardly would write about it. The thought of penning it down would cross my mind, but I rarely did so. Probably ’cause I wanted to live in the moment. And in those moments, I lived.

I lived a long dream. A wonderful dream that I thought would never end. But now that dream is over. Finally, I thought I had my life figured out. I guess I was wrong. And I’m back to square one. It feels like I’m 19 years old again. Lost. Confused. Anxious. Scared. I honestly have been trying to figure out where to go from here because it feels like I’m learning to breathe again.

It’s almost been three months since that night. It’s been a month since I relapsed. The relapse hurt me harder than it did when it actually happened because he had moved on. Long story short, my best friend, the love of my life left me. It wasn’t all his fault. It was mine too. I could’ve salvaged it. We could’ve saved it. But I’m stupid. But I can’t lean on that now that it’s over. I try not to, but the mind is foolish, of course.

Known each other for seven. Been together for five.

Being with someone for so long when you barely knew how to drive a car, or learned how to integrate Calculus equations with substitution, or did not even know your set career path until you’ve been inspired by them… When that person leaves your life, it changes you. All the color in my life has drained and faded to black and white.

It’s a silly metaphor, don’t you think? But let me put it this way. Imagine that my whole world was in black and white prior to being with him. Now, grayscale isn’t so bad when that’s all I’ve ever experienced. There’s still beauty in that gray world. And I was content, yes. However, the more I spent time with him, I learned so much more about him, myself, and the world around me. I was shown a different color spectrum. There was so much more in life that I never knew. I didn’t know that I could be happier. Living a dream I never thought I could live with someone who was in sync with 90% of my being. And while the spectrum of color had some shades that weren’t completely flattering at times, looking it as a whole, it was still beautiful.

And I’d take it over gray any day.

But now, my heart just keeps beating, and I’m living back in this grayscale world. Since I’ve experienced color, I’m longing for it. I’m no longer content. I haven’t been, since that day. I’m lonely. Still scared to go out. Unsafe. Unsure.

Now I’m the one who needs saving.

Run the Clock

Right now, I’m just passing time. Trying to run the clock because there are things I don’t want to do and things I can’t wait to do. Nowadays, I just want to curl up in bed. Nowadays, I just want to see certain people. Nowadays, I just want to find peace.

I’ve been trying not to overthink. With that, I’ve been yearning for my happy memories. Also, I’ve been anxiously waiting for the weekends.

I wish it was already the weekend so that I can spend time with Yuki. That’ll put me at ease. I wish the weekends were longer.
I just want to be able to workout with my dad Saturday mornings, hang out with Yuki for the rest of the day, go to church with the family Sunday morning, and then workout/hangout with the “Crying Helps” crew after. I want it to just be like this. Or can these days be longer?

It’s been more difficult for me to sleep at night. I guess the stress is getting to me. To think I was already worried about him, but I guess life doesn’t stop throwing obstacles does it? Insert family life problem here. To think I was starting to settle down with my lifestyle, this new thing will eventually change my dynamic in a couple of months. It’s like my heart’s breaking again.

Each night I close my eyes, I wish that I could turn back time and wake up in the past. Or maybe a happier and more stable future. That hasn’t happened yet.

Here’s To New Adventures

None of this dumb “New year, new me” nonsense. I don’t have any new year’s resolutions. I feel like even if I write a list, like most people, I wouldn’t be able to do it anyway. Unless I have an actual game plan, then I know I can put it into action.

So instead of hitting a set of goals in a mental checklist, I figured I’d take it one step at a time. Now that I’ve been slowly settling into my living and work situation (it’s been like half a year lol), I feel like it’s time that I get back to doing things I’ve put on hold for the longest time. I’ve been conditioning my mind to not be so negative about the things I do. To not expect results so quickly. Little by little.

I purchased a GoPro on a whim. It’s always been on the back of my mind, but what finally gave me the push to purchase it was knowing that Mario was going to be back from New York for only a week. Our whole crew hadn’t seen him in a year since his wedding, and we only had one day to hang out. Knowing that, it just made sense to capture the few moments that we all share. And since it’s holiday season, it made even more sense to document the memories of friends that I don’t see as often anymore (Bryan pls).

As hard as it hit my bank account, among all the other items I spent during the holidays, the GoPro has so far been a wonderful investment. I hope to continue creating and capturing memories with it as the days go by.

Aside from capturing memories, I’m getting back into the rhythm of working out again. While I told myself I wanted to do a 5 mile race this year, I probably shouldn’t jump the gun. 5 miles isn’t really a lot, but for someone who sits around and codes all day, it’s starting to seem daunting. My first step really is to get fit. And while that seems vague, I just want to be able to work out and not feel like crap. Or run a mile in without feeling winded.

Lastly, I’m gonna try to get back to blogging again. Now that I recall all those reflections I had to write in elementary in high school, I feel like it subconsciously straightened out my thoughts since I put them to paper. This whole learning to adult 9 to 5 shindig is taking away my self-discovery. It’s time to get back on that track of self-improvement. Slowly, but surely.

Closing A Chapter In My Life

Tomorrow will be a day of many lasts.

Tonight is just the beginning as I spend my last real night in the OC.
This place has been my second home. College, friends, career.

Tomorrow will be my last day at my first full-time job. As crazy and stressful the last few months were, I’m sad that I’m leaving the most awesome people I could have as coworkers.

To my last lunch adventure and happy hour with the crew.

And yet, it saddens me more that I’m leaving my real home.

Tomorrow night will be the last night I’ll spend in my Torrance home.
The home I grew up in America.
The only home that has seen me at my most vulnerable and naive self.
The place where I laughed, smiled, without a care in the world.
But also the same place where words were thrown and my heart had hardened.

I was 16 when I stepped foot into that house.
I was 18 when my heart broke in the voicemail I left in my room. It was over.
I was 20 when I had the best kickbacks with a group of awesome friends that are now scattered here and there. 2010 was one of the best years of my life.
I was 22 when I realized they will never change. Anger. Pride. Lies. Skeletons in the closet. I stopped trying to meet their expectations after what happened. I started to think more about myself.

I am now 24.

I don’t know if I’m empty, numb, or can’t remember anything. Maybe I’m just trying to block things out.
There’s a part of me trying to remember all the good memories I spent there, yet some of the mess just clings onto them.

Guess I’ll just have to figure what else I’m willing to keep.

To boxes and bubblewrap.


I realized I’ve only written on my blog twice this year. Twice. What in the world is wrong with me? To think that I wanted to be a writer when I was younger. To think I pushed aside homework just to spend an hour or two to conjure up some words on a page. Not that setting homework aside is a good idea. For the past year, or basically for most of the times I’ve been avoiding to write, I’ve been trying to run away from the thoughts within me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it’s always been lingering, that if I put a thought to paper–digitally, at the least–that that very thought just becomes concrete. That those words and thoughts that encapsulated me would be unearthed no matter how far deep I buried them. There’s just something about me that can’t accept these thoughts, and I would like to block them out, but that’s not a good solution, is it?

It takes me until the end of the year to realize how much my thoughts have changed. That maybe I’ve slowly accepted that certain things won’t change. And you know what? I’m okay with that.

It only took a hectic winter,
an ambitious spring,
a treacherous yet interesting summer,
and a recovering fall.

And so, we’ve come back full circle, and the winter chill has swept in again. It put into perspective how far my life has come, and that graduation will soon be drawing near. It saddens me that the friends I used to be so close with are no longer as close as I want them to be. And it’s not because of some bad blood or betrayals of some sort. People just drift because of how life goes. The friends that I knew from high school and were immensely close in community college, it saddens me that I don’t hang out with them like I used to. I miss 2010. The video games, rolling down grassy hills, scarfing down spoonfuls of froyo. They’re all just fragments of memories now. It’s not the same, but I’ve got to move forward.

With the way things are, I just have to make myself at home. Feel comfortable. Embrace what’s new. Easier said than done, right? But I guess I’ve been working on it. This is just another chapter in my life.


Another year has passed, and I’m standing on familiar ground. It’s the chill of autumn that I fear the most. It’s the bits and pieces of the season that hint of a storm about to ensue. I’m scared. That’s always been holding me back. I used to be able to take risks and see what happens. When I used to take those risks, I managed to discover new things and enjoy those experiences. However, the bitter scent of this season scarred me deeply. And so, here I am cautiously treading the ground I walk upon. I’m careful in taking each step. I’m trying to hide my feelings up sleeve. I’m trying to mend my broken heart.

Mentally unstable? I figured I’ve landed in that position months ago. Here I am, just recuperating. And yet, I feel that when I take one step forward, I end up taking three steps back. I’m trying to find the courage to move forward. I’m trying to stop myself from self destructing. I’m trying to heal without hurting you.

Two years ago, I wouldn’t have thought that I’d be in this position. The old me would’ve hated what I’ve become. In fact, she probably would have done something in the past to stop myself from becoming this way. But what did I know back then? I was sheltered and oblivious to what was happening around me. I had such a narrow mindset. Surely, I had my beliefs, and those contradicted mostly how others thought. I heard what they said, but I never truly understood what they meant.

In the back of my mind, I’m probably bothered by something. That I’m not exactly sure. It’s no wonder I’ve always been tired even after eight hours of sleep. I haven’t been sleeping properly for the longest time. I miss feeling at peace.

Acceptance. That’s what I need.

There are questions I want to ask and realities that I need to face.

Maybe it’s possible for people to care about me.

Maybe it’s possible that people won’t always leave.


Last Saturday night, I got hurt again by something stupid. Just like I used to, I breathed it in and told myself that it’s nothing. “Nothing”. I try my hardest to breathe in the sadness and tears welling up in my eyes. I always tend to convince myself that it doesn’t matter. That the little things that bother me don’t matter. Either I toss it to the side or shrug it off. Eventually, I end up believing myself that it didn’t matter. Those feelings usually end up in a pile. And if I don’t vent, well, you know where there end up eventually.

And then, there he was… Trying to hold my hand as lifeless as it was. I couldn’t look at him straight in the eye. I can faintly recall what I murmured in my delirious state of mind.

“Why should it even matter?”

Then he said those words. They were hesitant, but he said them. When I heard them, it almost sounded like it was amplified in the space between us. They were words I didn’t expect to hear. These were words strung in a way he’s never said before.

“Because I care about you.”

There was a tinge of that four letter word I felt in his voice. His glasses were fogged up, and tears streaming down his face. I didn’t know what I was doing.

“Why are you crying…?”
“Because you’re not going to do anything even if I care about you…”

He doesn’t usually show how he feels. But when he does, I seem to see it now. To know when it’s sincere. Genuine. Real.

What was I doing? I was hurting the one I love. I never really know what I’m doing. I always do stupid things. I want to stop hurting him… Somehow, I should stop hurting myself.

It hurts me to think that he thinks why I’m always sad and crying is because of him. He’s said that… That’s not true. But it seems like it, huh? ‘Cause I’m always crying in front of him. Every time I’m vulnerable, I breakdown in front of him. Actions… They do speak louder than words.

There’s so much sorrow in my life right now that even the greatest things that make me happy get clouded by my doubts. I don’t need to convince myself that he’s made me happy. As self destructive as I am, I can see it and feel it… There’s a part of me wanting to reject those moments, telling me that I didn’t deserve them. You know what, maybe I didn’t. As wrecked and confused I was, I can still picture him wanting to hold my hand. I was going to get my bag and leave the apartment not knowing what I was annoyed or mad about. And yet, he held my hand, wrapped me with his jacket, and told me to “be warm”.

As undeserving I was of those gestures during those moments, he still was there. Now that I look back on them… How could he have made me sad? How could he have caused me my pain? If anything, he’s been there to pick me up again.

Thank you.

The Crossroads

“Do you get this?”

That was the very first thing you said to me. It’s been a little over two years since I’ve met you, and here we are now at a crossroads. To this day, I am still surprised and yet thankful for having you in my life.

Despite our petty misunderstandings, I’ve managed to see how wonderful of a person you truly are. You’re not perfect, and neither am I. We both stepped into this relationship like it was untouched territory. I’ve never been in a relationship, and you’ve probably never been in something this serious. I’ve tried not to set my hopes too high so that I wouldn’t get hurt again. I’ve attempted to fix my heart at a certain distance so I could handle any difficulties that would come my way.

It’s funny. Maybe it sounds a little bit masochistic, but I got used to getting hurt or being rejected. I thought that even if I felt so strongly about you, you we’re bound to walk away at some point. After all, I’ve been on the losing end this whole time, haven’t I? One way or another, I knew I was going to get hurt. It’s a lot easier for me to deal with the pain that seemed to be inevitable. I thought I put up a good enough buffer around my heart so I wouldn’t be as vulnerable as I used to be.

But things changed. You changed. Or at least it seemed like you did.

I liked you for your mind. How everything seemed so practical and realistic. I admired how spontaneous and geeky you were and still are. Your subtle courteous and adventurous ways. Even though you weren’t open, very lazy and didn’t take initiative, I managed to accept that. I expected you to remain the same.

And here I am seeing a different side of you. You’ve called me up randomly. You’ve greeted me with good morning texts. You’ve allowed me to visit you in LA where I got to meet your roommates. Slowly, you’ve let me be a part of your life.

That one Tuesday night, I honestly thought you were going to walk away from me. I was mad. Furious. I unleashed a side of me that hadn’t come out for years. Even though you indirectly hurt me, I knew I couldn’t stay mad at you. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you walked away. But you didn’t. I still find it hard to comprehend that you stayed. That even if you’ve seen me at my worst, you’ve stuck by my side.

Here we are. Summer has reached its end. We’ve spent most of its days together–especially these past two weeks. That weekend with you in LA to watch the Final Fantasy concert. The next two nights, you took me to see the city lights because you knew how much I liked it. We laughed and we danced in the moonlight–awkwardly. Haha. Lastly, you did something I never would have expected you to do.

You: When are you leaving for Irvine?
Me: Thursday…… Come with me.
You: What?
Me: Come with me to Irvine.
You: Okay.

I ended up leaving for Irvine Friday instead. Even though my plans changed, you still drove down to spend these last two days with me before our classes would begin. And it was wonderful.

We’re both about to start a new chapter in our lives. If anything happens between us, we pinky promised. Yes, we did. We will still see those Christmas lights this coming December.

I walked you out of my door this afternoon. One last hug. One last time before I could see your face in person again. It’ll be weeks. Probably even months. Even so, I’m glad I’m with you. I’m happy and very grateful for everything I’ve experienced being with you.

I love you and I will see you someday soon, Yuki.