April 19, 2014

So, I assisted this consultant surgeon one time. I’ve actually assisted him twice before, but he didn’t remember me. Nevertheless, he asked for my name and a little about my background.

Some surgeons are like that. They control the conversation, they put everyone at ease while he’s drilling a hole on the patient’s head.

The one thing I like about this particular surgeon is that he has a wealth of information regarding music. Well, at least about the bands he likes. Beach Boys was the background music that time (deliberately played because we knew he’d love it, and because he’s kind of a music snob to today’s music), so he kept on talking about them. How the band fared during his time, how they were compared to the Beatles, etc.

That went on for a while as I handed him the needed instruments. Then he turned his attention to me.

"What kind of band do you like, Ms. Marikina?"
He asked where I came from prior to the start of the surgery.

Then everyone’s attention was on me— residents’ and anesthesiologists’.

"Uhm… Eraserheads." I said that with a bit of hesitation, knowing he’d scoff at it.

And scoff he did. “What? Eraserheads? Sounds baduy to me.”

I gave a small laugh. I mean, I really don’t want to argue with someone who hasn’t experienced the Eheads’ music.

"Well, have you even heard about the Carpenters?"

"Well, Sir, I know them, but I haven’t really listened to their music because I was born in 1990."

That did it. Everyone in the OR laughed. The consultant seemed a bit embarrassed and surprised that someone as young as I am is already a professional.

"Why, I was already a resident when you were born!"

Yep, I thought, it makes you feel old, doesn’t it?

April 19, 2014
manilatalks:

Loving the 60s architecture of this school building in St. Scholastica’s Academy Marikina. #architecture #design #building #school (at St. Scholastica’s Academy of Marikina)

Heyyyy there, St. Scho! I can see that you have retained the playground. Thank you.I miss looking at your buildings. I miss the calm that comes with it especially when the sun’s setting and everything becomes orange.I wish I could visit you again.Love,A Kulasa that misses you

manilatalks:

Loving the 60s architecture of this school building in St. Scholastica’s Academy Marikina. #architecture #design #building #school (at St. Scholastica’s Academy of Marikina)

Heyyyy there, St. Scho! I can see that you have retained the playground. Thank you.

I miss looking at your buildings. I miss the calm that comes with it especially when the sun’s setting and everything becomes orange.

I wish I could visit you again.

Love,
A Kulasa that misses you

(Source: marcusluna)

April 9, 2014
Almost Lover

The shift was almost over. We’ve inspected every room except for one. Though it was almost 10pm, I volunteered to go there alone. My colleagues went ahead to the locker room.

I was sitting on the empty OR table when you entered the room. You sat beside me as I stared at the new lights installed just last week. We did not say a single word. Our presence sufficed despite the silence in the room.

It has already been months since we talked to each other. After weeks of turning our last conversation in my head, I realized we only made things worse for each other. I should not have told you how I felt. I should not have blamed everything on you. Yet you accepted every accusation I threw on your way. Now I’m the one who’s suffering.

"I’m sorry," you said. I liked how that sounded— as much as it broke my heart to hear it. You still haven’t forgiven yourself.

"Me, too." By this time, I looked down and closed my eyes. I added, "I never thought it would come to this."

Millions of thoughts invaded my head, but I know none of those will ever repair what’s already broken between us.

"I don’t know why I did that."

"Why you made me feel like we might have a chance?" I turned my head to look at you. I was searching for some hope that you’d finally admit that I wasn’t just delusional— that you really led me on.

You didn’t look away, but you weren’t holding my gaze either. It’s like you were thinking of something— or someone— from far away. Were you thinking of her? You should be thinking of her.

"Yes, I thought we might have a chance."

"But you love her."

You paused for a while. “I do. I love her.” You spoke slowly, as if wanting to emphasize the point to me. You didn’t have to. I knew that from the start.

"Well, I guess I have to thank you, at least, for admitting that you did make me believe that you love me. It’s also my fault. I should have been more resistant, but how could I find the strength to reject you when you’re the man I’ve always prayed for?"

You were crying by the time I finished. “I know,” you said while the tears rolled swiftly, “I’m sorry.”

I closed my eyes yet again and breathed deeply. “No one deserves to be hurt in this way. Not even us.”

There was silence. And then you said, “I’m sorry I’m not the one you prayed for.”

I gave a small laugh, then everything around me went blurry. I could feel the warmth of my own tears burning my cheeks.

Why am I always the one who loves more? It’s true, what that song says about heartbreaks. Someone gets hurt more than the other.

I inched my way closer to you, placed my arms around your neck, buried my face on your shoulder, and sobbed. I could not get the words out now. I just prayed while I sobbed myself to exhaustion. I prayed that I’ll get over you. I prayed that the hurt I’m feeling would be put to great use in the future.

It’s funny how I never prayed for you to choose me over her. How could I? You two are perfect for each other. I was just an obstacle that your relationship will eventually conquer.

I released my hold on you and raised my head. You took a little longer to release me. I looked at you, knowing that that would be the last time for me to see those eyes which held the most intense and sincere gaze.

You moved your head closer to mine, but before anything else could happen, I stood up. I left the room without looking back.

That was how I said goodbye to my almost lover.

March 8, 2014
plasmatics:

Campfire by Knate Myers


Someday. I swear.

plasmatics:

Campfire by Knate Myers

Someday. I swear.

(via the-absolute-best-posts)

March 8, 2014

I love the Wicked Manila team! I love their choreography.

(Source: shycube)

March 8, 2014
squeegool:

First day at Shiz 
#elphaba #elphie #wicked #FanArt #drawing #illustration

squeegool:

First day at Shiz
#elphaba #elphie #wicked #FanArt #drawing #illustration

March 8, 2014
redelixir:

me 90% of the time


One of my goals in life is to NOT end up like this.

redelixir:

me 90% of the time

One of my goals in life is to NOT end up like this.

(Source: kixxinq, via the-absolute-best-posts)

March 8, 2014

There’s something I want to thank you for.

Thank you for always greeting people with a smile every morning— post- duty or not.
Thank you for noticing the little things, like my long eyelashes and complimenting them.
Thank you for always trying to be funny.

These may all be superficial things to be thankful for in the eyes of an outsider, but they mean a lot to me. They probably mean a lot to everyone around you.

Just keep doing that— brightening our day.

10:20am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_mFKy19Xw8pY
Filed under: work happy crush 
December 19, 2013

Tonight, I can say that my college roommates/ dorm mates and I have achieved a higher level of friendship.

About two years after I graduated from college, so, far, we’ve been making it a point that we see each other at least once a year. This time around, apart from the gifts and laughter, we received yet another surprise— one of us is having a baby.

It was just such a happy event for all of us. Personally, it all felt surreal. I mean, wow. I never really thought I’d be getting older, but here it is. I cannot believe we’ve reached this certain point in our lives. Babies. Possibly settling down. Marriage.

Wow, just wow. 

I’m so thankful right now that we all get to share this wonderful news with each other. <3 

December 14, 2013

I wrote this on my Everything Notebook (don’t ask) last July. Wow, I can’t believe this was already a few months old. The wounds still hurt, but are slowly healing.

As I was riding the jeepney on my way to the dentist, I was suddenly reminded of my grandmother. In a few seconds of being enveloped with my last moments with her, my eyes were filled with tears. I guess it never really becomes any easier for someone to move on from a huge loss.

I realized, as I tried to prevent my tears from falling, that I never had the chance to fully acknowledge the pain I experienced when she died. Sure, I cried a lot the day I said my goodbyes, as well as the time when I asked my head nurse for a day off during the last day of viewing. However, right after the funeral, I went back to work— a bit depressed, probably— but not as affected as I thought would be normal. I guess it has something to do with the fact that I celebrated my 23rd birthday three days after the funeral. I was forced to be happy. I was forced to be thankful for something.

I guess the time will just come when I realize that it’s the right moment to grieve. Or I may have already grieved enough, and moments like this is just normal.

I don’t know. This is the first tangible loss I’ve had in my life.

Months later, and I still feel quite the same. I’ve discovered that I am capable of detachment and emotion at the same time. Maybe it’s the nurse in me— I have to take care of my patient, but not to care too much. 

During those nights when I try to go to sleep, I realize that this is one aspect of my life that I haven’t truly shared with any of my close friends. And it feels ironic right now that I’m posting it on my blog. Maybe because an invisible audience lessens the pain as well as the need to get all emotional. I have always been like this on family issues. I was never one to discuss family in front of people.

Anyway, I posted this because I was feeling a bit down these past few days. I was looking through my notebook, and I found that quite a number of my writings this year were about my grandmother.

I just.. miss her.

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