prexypinoy to the world

"Live passionately."  That's the mantra from Glen Powell’s movie Hitman. It got me thinking—do I live passionately? Have I ever? Will I? Just how passionate are we talking here?  Let me set the scene: a few months ago, I found myself solo in New York City. With time to kill and an itch to scratch, what better place to indulge than the city that never sleeps?  In NYC, I met a roommate who was instantly likable. She was funny, laid-back, and had this go-getter vibe. She was super open about her dating life and even invited me to tag along. I was surprised—who does that? She encouraged me to try dating apps, given New York's diversity and all. I politely said that I would.   But me? Yeah, well. Never.  Later, I caught up with a friend who lives in New York. After eight years and a marriage later, she suggested I try the apps too. I smiled and again politely agreed to give it a try.  At that moment, I kind of thought Wait… Was this a sign? All these random suggestions see

You never realize how much you’ll miss someone until you think about how they wouldn’t be there with you physically, ever. It’s so easy to say that death is a part of life but when that happens, you couldn’t find any motivation for reason not to feel unsettled. Today, July 8 (Monday) at 7 am PST, I received an unsettling message from Papa that Nanay is gone. I called Mama and she confirmed. I went ahead with my regular Monday meetings. Acted as if nothing MAJOR happened. But shortly after lunch, tears escaped me. I couldn’t shake off the emotion enveloping me. The thing is, I thought I have prepared well enough to accept the inevitable. In my resolve, Nanay had led a good life. In her hey days, she was an activist, an ironwoman, wise beyond her years. When I was 12, Nanay brought me to Butuan with her. From Butuan, we traveled to Bacolod via ferry. It was my first ferry ride ever. We then ended in Cebu. I have very fond memories of Nanay. My cousins would go green with envy, bu

My younger cousin is now an Engineer! I am elated for him. I knew he’d make it because he had the brains for it. As I pondered, I thought about his difficulties growing up. Here is a kid who might have been given everything during abundance but as soon as he reached the school age, their abundance has been depleted. So, there he was, trying to stay afloat. He was thrown out in the open truly unprepared. It was a series of bad decisions by adults and the kids had to bear the brunt of things. And when I think about that, it breaks my heart.  What’s the worst that could happen to an unprepared kid? Having no support. So, I supported him in my own way. I let him know that I was on the sidelines, rooting for him. His situation may be far from ideal, but it is in these circumstances that he becomes stronger. Fast forward to 2024, and he’s passed the board! I received a chat from him telling me he is grateful for everything that we have done for them (him and his older brother). He told

  You know what’s amazing? That you keep fighting regardless of the odds. So, what if a door closes? I look at it as a closure for something fleeting. Looking back, the greatest of my pursuits are the result of the closed doors, the unwelcomed seat at the table, or simply, the missed bus that I am accustomed to riding.   At this time and age, I learned that I can/will never have it all. I have learned that what is given can be taken away. This includes the opportunities, the material possessions, or even the bunch of people I call friends. I used to anchor myself around these. But maybe, just maybe… things or people that are not meant to be with you on your journey are dropped along the way because it makes your load lighter. Believe me when I say that while I expected more, I heaved a sigh of relief, “Good riddance!”. Because it is in these critical moments that the true ones present themselves. It is in these moments that I look closely and realize that normally, the final st

“Difficulties strengthen the mind as labor does to the body.” Well, Marcus Aurelius had it figured out, I thought. When you think of it that way, it makes difficulties a powerful ingredient for growth. It creates a compartment somewhere inside you that makes you feel kind of normal. Who does not go through difficult times, right? Difficulties are like a vortex of darkness. You get sucked into that tunnel. You try to rationalize things, but negative feelings pile up one against the other. When that happens, you get swallowed by it. You feel trapped and hopeless. In mine, I always feel like I am trying too hard for nothing. I feel injustice. I feel as though I get to bear the brunt of things. It is both a curse and a blessing to do it solo. Curse because I get to feel like everything is a one-man show. Blessing because it makes me mentally stronger. Like what is there to lose other than a mouth (my mouth) unfed? A few years ago, I had an economic difficulty. It was difficult to m

It’s the birthday blues! It’s no secret that I feel down before every birthday. I don’t know why but it has always been like that. Perhaps, I can’t help but overthink about my life. Getting older… Did I accomplish anything noteworthy? I’m thinking out loud and maybe self-sabotaging but what are my breakthroughs? For one, not a single zero was added to my account. Second, I am still trying to find my place in the world and lastly, I still stand here alone on earth wondering what exactly I’m doing.  These thoughts keep me grounded, other than almost always leave me unhappy. I guess I’ve always thought about making it big. I’ve always thought of myself as a competent individual who can take challenges. I thought of these challenges as my preparations for the big things. So, when I allow myself to mull over my achievements, what have I accomplished really? My sister told me, “Don’t be too hard on yourself”. Well, to be frank, I seem to allow myself to gloat days before my big day

“Who are you?”, My bedridden grandmother asked when my mom showed my face to her through a video call. Behest the pang of sadness, I said: “It’s Lovely, your most beautiful apo”. She said, “How’s your mother doing?” To which I laughed and said, “Oh she’s the one holding the phone and visiting you today.” She apologized and said, “I am old I cannot remember much.” Making the conversation light, I joked. “It’s fine, as long as you remain beautiful ”. She then told me things that broke my heart. She said, “Please call me all the time while I am still alive. I know I am being a burden to my children because I am sick and weak. I pray that God will take me soon, so I do not add any more burden than I already do.” I maintained a cheerful face even though my heart got crushed into tiny million pieces. We bid our goodbyes, but her words were looping on my head. I mulled over life in general. I thought about how my grandmother had always been full of life when I was growing up. She love