Reading 1984 By George Orwell Felt Like A Gut Punch, And Imagining It Happening In The Real World—or

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!

The 30-Day Love Detox: How to Dump Someone and Boomerang Back into Their Heart Like Nothing Happened

Ah yes, the classic love story: boy meets girl, boy dumps girl, boy realizes 30 days later that life without girl is a bit boring, and voilà, he’s suddenly enlightened. If only all of life’s problems could be solved with this much grace and wisdom! So, for those aspiring romantics out there who want to master the fine art of dump-and-reconnect, I present to you: The 30-Day Love Detox Program!

Step 1: The Dramatic Exit – Make Them Wonder If You're Joining a Cult The first step in this master plan is to make your exit look like you're about to embark on some spiritual journey (cue random deep quotes about "finding yourself"). Pro tip: Try breaking up in the most cliché location possible—maybe a park bench with leaves falling dramatically around you, or at a cafe while you sip on an overpriced artisanal latte. Look them dead in the eyes and say something profound like, “I just need to find out who I really am… without you.” This will leave them thinking, "Wow, maybe they're going to start meditating on a mountaintop?" Spoiler alert: You’re not.

Step 2: Ghost Like a Pro – Silence Speaks Louder Than Words… or Texts Now that you’ve set the stage for your epic transformation (aka, a month of Netflix and scrolling through Tinder), it’s time to ghost like it’s your part-time job. Not a single message. Total radio silence. Make sure your social media presence is carefully curated: post a few artsy photos of sunsets, yoga poses (that you definitely didn’t do), and maybe one of those cryptic "self-growth" memes, like, “Sometimes, you have to lose yourself to become the person you were meant to be.” Deep, right? Meanwhile, you’re really just mastering the art of lounging on your couch.

Step 3: The "Epiphany" – AKA, You Miss Their Netflix Password After a glorious 30 days (definitely not because you’ve run out of things to do or people to swipe left on), it’s time to have your “epiphany.” Suddenly, you’ve realized that they’re the one. Or at least the one who had a really great HBO subscription. So you send the message that every ex just loves to receive out of the blue: “Hey… been thinking a lot. I realize now that what we had was special. Can we talk?” Oh really? It took you a whole month to figure that out? What’s next, he misses your Spotify playlists and suddenly realizes he can’t live without you? Groundbreaking stuff. Because what says personal growth better than completely disregarding the fact that you dumped them for vague, mysterious reasons? Growth, baby. Growth.

Step 4: The Overly Casual Meet-Up – Because We’re Totally Mature Adults Now, suggest the casual meet-up. Something low-key, like grabbing coffee or, better yet, bumping into them “accidentally” at the exact cafe they frequent every Thursday at 4 PM. Apologize for your “growth period,” but don’t overdo it—you don’t want them to think you’re TOO sorry. Let them know you’re ready to “give it another shot,” as if you’re offering a rare, limited-time-only opportunity. Remember to throw in phrases like “fresh start” or “new chapter,” because nothing screams romance like pretending the last chapter wasn’t a dumpster fire.

Step 5: The Reboot – Because What Could Go Wrong? At this point, they might be confused, mildly entertained, or plotting your demise, but hey, you feel like you’ve turned over a new leaf! What could possibly go wrong by giving it another try, right? After all, you’ve had a whole 30 days of spiritual Netflix therapy—totally enough time to rewrite your relationship future. Spoiler alert: The sequel is usually worse than the original, but hey, nothing ventured, nothing gained!

In Conclusion: Why go through all the hassle of working on yourself, learning from your mistakes, or communicating better, when you can just dump someone, wait a month, and swoop back in with a fresh coat of charm? Because in the game of love, nothing says “I’m serious this time” like making a dramatic comeback after a whole four weeks of soul-searching (or, you know, browsing memes) or as if you’ve just come back from some emotional sabbatical.

I broke my own heart that day.

He was kind. Nice. And I’m sure he’s a great friend. I saw him for the first time today, and I never thought it would be the last time I’d ever see him.

There was something about the way he smiled, the way his voice carried warmth like a quiet melody. It wasn’t a grand moment—no fireworks or fated encounters—just a fleeting interaction that somehow left its mark on me. Maybe that’s why it hurt so much.

I knew from the beginning that I couldn’t have him, that we were just two strangers passing each other on the street of life. But the heart has a strange way of getting attached to possibilities that never were. It was my own mind weaving stories where none existed, my own emotions building a bridge to nowhere.

And that’s where the heartbreak came. Not from anything he did or said, but from my own actions, my silent hopes. In the end, it was him who chose to walk away, and I, knowing there was no path forward.

But it still stung, that quiet realization: I had broken my own heart, in a moment that no one else would ever know existed.

Today, I blocked someone on Instagram.

I had already cut him off before because he said something I didn’t like. My old self would have tried to understand where he was coming from, rationalizing why people say the things they do. But not anymore.

He’s not the first guy who has told me he wanted to sleep with me. I get plenty of indecent proposals—random, unsolicited messages from men like him.

In the past, I let it slide. I never gave in, but I also never pushed back. I shrugged it off, ignored it, and stayed friends. I even gaslit myself into thinking I was overreacting when their words made me uncomfortable. I told myself it was fine because boys will be boys.

But this? This was too much.

Lately, one of them has been trying to reconnect and meet up. I’ve told him no, more than once. I’ve given excuses, politely declined, and outright refused. But to men like him, no is never enough.

I finally lashed out after he had the audacity to tell me that I “shouldn’t judge people for who they were or what they did.” Sure, I get that. But my reality is different. The things they did made me feel cheap, like I was nothing. Like I wasn’t even a person.

So yes, I will judge people based on how they treated me. And I will return the favor by shutting them out completely.

I don’t care who they are now. I’m in therapy because of what they did to me. The way they viewed me back then shaped the way I saw myself.

Never again.

I thought I was ok. Then he suddenly crossed my mind. I kept crying again. So I stood up, looked in the mirror and remembered the way he made me feel—that I wasn't worth the wait.

People are so intrigued with my life. 🙃 Showbiz balita?

Why Some Men See Accountability as an Attack Instead of Growth

Accountability. A simple concept, right? Own up to your actions, learn from mistakes, grow as a person. But for some men, being held accountable feels like an all-out assault on their very existence. The moment they hear, “Hey, that wasn’t cool,” they react like you just questioned their entire identity. So why does accountability send some guys into full-on defense mode instead of helping them grow? Hmm. Let’s break it down.

1. The Ego Can’t Handle It

For some men, being wrong isn’t just about the situation at hand—it’s a hit to their ego. Admitting a mistake feels like admitting they are the problem, rather than just something they did. Instead of just saying, “Yeah, I messed up,” they’d rather go into mental gymnastics mode, twisting the situation until somehow, miraculously, they’re the victim. Wow. Just wow. 😆

2. The "Alpha Male" Complex

Somewhere along the way, a lot of men were taught that taking responsibility is a sign of weakness. They believe real men should always be confident, always be in control, and never admit to screwing up. The irony? True confidence comes from owning up to mistakes and learning from them. But try telling that to someone who thinks growth is just for plants. 🌱

3. The Victim Mindset

Rather than taking accountability, some guys flip the script and play the victim. "Why are you always criticizing me?" "I can’t do anything right." "You never appreciate what I do." Suddenly, what should have been a simple conversation about their actions turns into you having to reassure them that they’re not a terrible person. It’s exhausting. 😤

4. Emotional Maturity Levels: TBD

Some men never learned how to handle criticism without shutting down or blowing up. If they weren’t raised in an environment where accountability was seen as a normal part of growth, then any form of critique feels like an attack. Instead of processing it, they either lash out or retreat into silence—neither of which help anyone.

5. The Art of Deflection

Rather than addressing the issue at hand, some men master the fine art of dodging responsibility. “Well, what about that one time you messed up?” or “I only did that because you made me.” Anything to shift the focus away from them and onto someone else. It’s not about solving the problem; it’s about escaping it.

6. Society’s Low Bar

Let’s be real—men have been praised for doing the absolute bare minimum for so long that even mild accountability can feel like an attack. “I said sorry, what more do you want?” Actual change, maybe? When society expects so little from them, being asked to do better feels like a personal insult.

Accountability isn’t the enemy. At the end of the day, accountability isn’t about tearing someone down—it’s about helping them grow. If someone truly cares about becoming a better person, they’ll listen, reflect, and make changes. If they see accountability as an attack? That says more about them than it does about you.

So if you’ve ever had to deal with a guy who acts like accountability is some cruel punishment, save your breath. People who want to grow, grow. The ones who don’t? That’s on them.

Sprinkle sprinkle.

Any good series recommendations besides Reacher?

Been home for a few weeks now and I’m feeling better. It’s good to be back in the province vs living in the big city. I mean, life here is different. More on simplicity, picking up veggies from the garden, not needing to go to a shopping centre or what. We just pick food here and cook them right away. Those crops and bananas and green leafy stuff omg I am so over meat. Lol! I’m missing so much on nutrition for the past year 😂

Hope you guys are having a great day!

Note: my mom is not happy about me going out with friends every Friday. Lol mom i’m not dating anyone 🤭

Every night you dream that you talk to a genie, when you wake up you can't remember what you wished for. One morning you wake up with a giant crab pincer replacing your right arm. What do you do?

Dreams are strange things. They take us to places beyond our imagination, and sometimes, they’re so vivid that we wake up questioning what’s real. For weeks now, I’ve been having a recurring dream where I talk to a genie every night. The weird part? I could never remember what I wished for when I woke up. It was like my subconscious was playing hide-and-seek with the details, leaving me with a hazy memory of the conversation but no clue what I’d actually asked for.

But then came that morning. The one where I opened my eyes, stretched out my right arm, and… it wasn’t there. Instead of my usual hand and arm, a massive crab pincer had taken its place. I froze, staring at the monstrous claw attached to my shoulder, a mix of horror and disbelief washing over me. This couldn’t be real, could it? I had to be dreaming still, right?

I did what any rational person would do: I pinched myself with the claw. Let me tell you, crab pincers are no joke. The pain was very real, and with that, the reality of the situation sunk in. Somehow, someway, my dream wish had manifested into this bizarre and terrifying reality.

After the initial shock, the questions flooded in. How could this have happened? Why a crab pincer, of all things? I tried to think back to the previous night’s dream, but as always, the memory was foggy. Maybe I’d wished for something vague, like “strength” or “protection,” and the genie had interpreted that in the weirdest possible way. Or perhaps I’d made some offhand joke about having a tough exterior. Whatever the reason, here I was, the unfortunate owner of a giant crustacean claw.

So, what do you do when you wake up with a crab pincer for an arm? First, I panicked. Then, I did what I always do when life throws something inexplicable at me: I adapted.

I spent the next few days learning to navigate life with my new appendage. Simple tasks like opening doors, brushing my teeth, or even typing became Herculean challenges. But with practice, I started to get the hang of it. I learned to use the pincer delicately, avoiding crushing everything I touched. I even found it had some unexpected perks—like cracking open coconuts or, if I’m being honest, scaring off unwanted attention.

But beyond the practicalities, this experience forced me to think deeply about identity and change. How much of who we are is tied to our physical form? How do we adapt when something so fundamental about ourselves is altered overnight? The crab pincer became a symbol of resilience, a reminder that even in the face of the absurd, we have the power to adapt, to find humor, and to continue moving forward.

In the end, I’ve come to embrace my new reality, as strange as it is. I still don’t know what I wished for that led to this, and maybe I never will. But maybe that’s the point. Life is unpredictable, and sometimes, the wishes we make in the depths of our dreams lead to outcomes we never could have imagined. The important thing is how we respond to those outcomes—how we choose to grow, change, and find strength, even when life hands us something as bizarre as a crab pincer for an arm.

And who knows, maybe tonight I’ll dream of that genie again and finally get some answers. Until then, I’ll keep pinching myself—both literally and figuratively—just to remind myself that this wild journey is, indeed, real.