"The Two Most Powerful Warriors Are Patience And Time." - Leo Tolstoy

Diary entry: October 15, 2024

I woke up from a wild dream. You know how dreams work—one moment you're in a familiar place, the next everything shifts. You look behind you, and the scenery changes. You turn to the front, and you're somewhere else entirely. People you know appear alongside strangers who only exist in your dreams. Some places feel real, while others exist only in that dreamscape. It’s surreal.

What really gets to me are the recurring dreams. Sometimes, after months or years of not thinking about a certain place or person, they reappear, unchanged, like no time has passed. But the scariest part? I occasionally dream of things that haven't happened yet—and then they come true the next day. I see signs, premonitions, and when they unfold in real life, it sends chills down my spine.

My mother has this gift of premonition too. For her, it’s a guide—a way to navigate life. I seem to have inherited it, but instead of comfort, it terrifies me. People call it a gift, but I'm not so sure. There are moments when I want to lean on science, to find logical explanations for what I experience. Science can demystify things like this, offering clarity. But then, there are times when I feel pulled toward something deeper—something divine. It’s a strange place to be, caught between wanting to explain everything and accepting that maybe some things are beyond explanation.

So, about that dream—all of a sudden, a familiar face showed up randomly. It was him. He just appeared, casually talking to me, like nothing ever happened. Like he didn’t hurt me in the past. It completely caught me off guard. I’ve moved on, though. We never officially dated, just talked and got to know each other—until the next morning, he pulled the plug because he was pissed. And there he was in my dream, acting as if everything was fine, asking how I was, like we were friends.

You know me—I’m confrontational. In the dream, I was just about to tell him to fuck off, but right then, my alarm went off, jolting me awake.

Groggy, I reached for my phone, turned off the alarm, and checked my notifications. And there it was—his name, lighting up my screen. A message from him on Telegram.

I couldn’t believe it.

Though it's not the first time it happened to me but sometimes I couldn't help but wonder—

What kind of fuckery is this?

what's on your mind?

Not everyone is meant to be in your future. Some people are just passing through to teach you lessons in life.

I mourn my youth

I mourn my youth with a sorrow that feels almost unbearable. Not because it’s gone but because I realize I never truly lived it.

I ache for all the moments I let slip by, the countless chances I ignored, thinking there’d always be more time. I regret the nights I should have spent out, surrounded by laughter and people who would have helped me feel alive. Instead, I stayed in the shadows, clinging to comfort and safety, only to find out too late that those things would cost me the memories I could never make.

I think of all the times I chose sleep over adventure, the days I kept my life small and predictable instead of going somewhere new. I missed the thrill of being spontaneous, of packing a bag and leaving without knowing where I’d end up. I missed places that could have shown me how vast and beautiful the world really is, places I’ll only ever know through the stories of others who dared to go.

And the people—I mourn them most of all. I wonder about the friendships that never had a chance to grow, the faces I never got to know because I was too scared to take a step toward them. There were probably kindred souls, people who would have understood me better than I understood myself, waiting somewhere in the world. But I kept to my familiar circle, never daring to reach out, and now they’re strangers I’ll never meet.

I look back, and it’s almost unbearable to realize how much I lost. I wish I could go back and tell my younger self to be brave, to take the risks, to live as if these days would eventually run out. But all I have now is this ache, this haunting feeling of a life half-lived. And the hardest part is knowing that these missed moments will forever be just that—echoes of a life I could have had but never did.

Some days, everything feels like it's spiraling out of control. Today was definitely one of those days for me. I woke up with a plan in mind, thinking I'd breeze through the day like it was nothing. But, of course, life had other ideas. From the moment I opened my eyes, it seemed like the universe was throwing little annoyances my way, one after the other.

It started with the usual hustle—trying to juggle a million things at once. And as much as I tried to stay calm, the small things kept piling up. The missed messages, miscommunications, and the feeling of being stretched too thin all hit me hard. It’s like I was running on a short fuse all day.

There were moments when I just wanted to scream into a pillow. Have you ever had one of those days where no matter what you do, it feels like everything and everyone is out to test your patience? Yeah, today was that kind of day for me.

I hate feeling this way, but I also know it’s part of the ebb and flow of life. Some days, we’re on top of the world. Other days, it feels like we’re drowning in frustration. The important thing is acknowledging it. It’s okay to be pissed off. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. What matters is what comes next.

For now, I’m taking a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and reminding myself that tomorrow is a new day. A chance to reset. A chance to do better. But for today? Yeah, I’m pissed—and that’s perfectly fine.

Reading 1984 by George Orwell felt like a gut punch, and imagining it happening in the real world—or even in my own country—made it even more heart-wrenching. The way the Party strips away not only freedom but also the ability to think and feel independently is terrifying. As I turned each page, I couldn't help but cry, feeling as though my heart was being torn apart, especially when I thought about how easily such a regime could rise in any society if we're not vigilant.

In Orwell’s world, the total control over truth, history, and even relationships is brutal. If something like this were to unfold in my own country, it would mean the end of everything we hold dear—freedom of speech, connection with loved ones, and our sense of self. The idea of being watched constantly, never being able to trust even your closest friends or family members, is suffocating. Winston’s struggle against this control was a flicker of hope that I desperately clung to as I read, but when that hope was crushed, I felt an immense sense of loss, as if it could be our future, too.

If the government in my country ever wielded such total power, where dissenting opinions were erased and loyalty to the state became more important than truth or love, it would be devastating. The betrayal Winston experiences—both from Julia and from the world itself—felt personal, like it could happen to any of us under similar circumstances. The worst part was Winston's final breaking point, when he surrendered to Big Brother. I couldn’t help but think of how our humanity could be torn apart in the same way if our thoughts and emotions were manipulated to this extreme.

1984 made me cry not just for the characters but for the possibility that such a future could exist anywhere, even here. The thought that people could be forced to betray their own hearts and minds is terrifying, and it left me questioning how strong we would be in the face of such oppression. Would we resist, or would we, like Winston, eventually break?

Sometimes, I feel like I’m living a life I don’t fully deserve. No matter how many achievements I rack up, or how many times people praise my work, there’s this persistent voice in my head whispering that it’s all a fluke. That I don’t belong here. That I’m fooling everyone.

Imposter syndrome is like an unwelcome guest that shows up in the quiet moments, casting doubt on everything I’ve accomplished. It tells me that my success is an accident, that eventually, someone is going to figure out I’m not as capable as I seem. I look at others who seem to move through life with ease, confident and self-assured, and wonder how they do it—how they walk around without the constant fear of being “found out.”

For me, every new challenge feels like a test I might not pass. Even when I’ve prepared, even when I know my stuff, there’s that nagging feeling that somehow, I’m not good enough. The worst part is how easy it is to downplay my own efforts. I’ll tell myself, “It wasn’t that hard,” or, “Anyone could’ve done that,” as if minimizing my work will shield me from the possibility of failure.

But that doesn’t make the fear go away. It just hides it beneath layers of self-doubt. Instead of celebrating my victories, I question them. Instead of owning my success, I attribute it to luck or timing, convinced that at any moment, everything could come crashing down.

The thing is, I know I’m not alone in this feeling. So many of us walk around with this invisible weight, afraid that one wrong step will expose us. But I also know that those feelings aren’t truth—they’re just fear disguised as fact. And though I struggle with it, I’m learning that I don’t have to listen to that voice. I can acknowledge it without letting it dictate how I live.

Because the truth is, I’ve worked hard for what I’ve achieved. I’ve earned my place, even if it doesn’t always feel like it. And just because I grapple with feelings of inadequacy doesn’t mean I am inadequate.

It’s a journey, learning to silence the imposter in my head, but I’m on the path. Every day, I remind myself that I’m not just faking it—I’m showing up, doing the work, and becoming the person I’m meant to be.

Is it real this time or is it in my head?

A list of items that I take for granted, which might not be available to people in other parts of the world.

Wow. This is tough. Just thinking about it makes me realize how unappreciative I am of the little things that would mean a lot to other people if we were to trade places.

House - I own a house, though it's not entirely mine yet. This place is where my trauma began, and every visit brings back painful memories. As a result, I often find myself in other cities, feeling out of place. While I am thankful for having a house, I can't call it a home. It's a gift that I dread because of the emotions it evokes. However, through therapy, I've started to adjust and view it from a different perspective.

Food - I sometimes skip meals intentionally, driven by my concern for my weight due to scoliosis. I feel guilty about not eating regularly, knowing that many people struggle with hunger daily. I should appreciate the privilege of having food readily available and make healthier choices.

Water - Clean, running water is something I seldom think about. I can turn on the tap and expect it to be there, but many people around the world have to walk miles for access to water, and even then, it's not always safe to drink. I'm grateful for this basic necessity that's so easily accessible to me.

Electricity - From charging my phone to lighting my home, I rely on electricity every day. Power outages are rare inconveniences, whereas for some, electricity is a luxury they can't afford or only have sporadically.

Healthcare - Access to medical care is something I often take for granted. When I'm sick or need a check-up, I can see a doctor without worrying too much about the cost or availability. Many people don't have this privilege and suffer from preventable or treatable conditions due to lack of access.

Education - I had the opportunity to go to school and pursue higher education. This has opened many doors for me, but for millions of children and adults, education is out of reach due to various socioeconomic barriers.

Internet Access - The internet is an integral part of my life, providing endless information and opportunities for connection. Yet, there are many areas in the world where internet access is limited or non-existent, cutting people off from these resources.

Clothing - I have a wardrobe full of clothes for every occasion, while others have to make do with the bare minimum. Having adequate clothing for different seasons and activities is something I often overlook in terms of privilege.

Transportation - Whether it's public transit, my car, or even a bike, I have multiple options to get where I need to go. In contrast, many people have to walk long distances or rely on unreliable and unsafe transportation methods.

Safety - Living in a relatively safe neighborhood is something I take for granted. The peace of mind that comes from feeling secure in my environment is a privilege that not everyone experiences.

Freedom of Speech - I can express my opinions and beliefs without fear of persecution. This freedom is not universal, and many people live in fear of speaking out due to oppressive regimes or societal norms.

Job Opportunities - Even though I have faced setbacks and challenges in my career, I still have access to job opportunities and the ability to seek new ones. Many people struggle with unemployment or underemployment, unable to find work that provides a livable wage.

It's true that life can sometimes feel overwhelming, but taking a step back to appreciate what we have can bring a lot of peace and motivation. What are some things you're grateful for today?

I gave him my heart, and he took and pinched it to death; and flung it back to me. People feel with their hearts, Ellen, and since he has destroyed mine, I have not power to feel for him.

—Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights

This summer, I’m heading to Iloilo... alone. My best friend was supposed to join me, but she has important things to take care of, and I don’t want to get in the way.

I’ve already envisioned all the things I want to do in Iloilo. Plus, I’ll be attending a wedding in Capiz, which makes me even more excited for the trip!