MA Creative Writing student at UP Diliman from the Land of Buko Pies.

Also a runner, photographer, cyclist, florist, dreamer, and believer.

Showing posts tagged photography

You might call me positively mental for liking the Lenten Season and the Paschal Triduum more than Christmas, even more than my own birthday. (I only know of one other person who feels the same way.) I don’t know. Maybe it’s that part of me that is innately and irrevocably attracted to suffering, guilt, and pain—things that are surely copious in my life (or so I think). And it’s not as masochistically gaudy and senseless as you think; I have come to believe that suffering and pain can be transmuted into something undeniably good—something far greater than what our feeble minds can possibly grasp. But then again, maybe it’s my upbringing as a Christian that dictates the whole of me to be so attracted and attached to the traditions and rituals of the Church at this part of the Liturgical Year. I mean, when you really think about it, this is why believers call themselves Christians—the fact that Jesus, the one whose birth was foretold, made good with His promise of salvation by offering His own life. This unconditional love is still the model I subscribe to, as intangible as the concept might seem. Or maybe that’s just it, my soul is and has always been in dire need of a love that is colossally strong, so monumental that it could save the souls even of those who are yet to be born; a love that transcends time and space.
I am in no way shoving my beliefs down your throat, dear reader. All I’m doing is expressing what for me is the most awaited time of the year, a time where I see some (if not all) hearts melt and feel any degree of repentance for their shortcomings—all rooted to lack of love, for oneself, for their neighbours, and for this earth and all living on and in it. All I’m doing is expressing what I think is this Good Friday’s rationale, a celebration of the greatest kind of love—the kind we all need, the kind we all dream, and maybe we hope to one day share—the selfless kind.

You might call me positively mental for liking the Lenten Season and the Paschal Triduum more than Christmas, even more than my own birthday. (I only know of one other person who feels the same way.) I don’t know. Maybe it’s that part of me that is innately and irrevocably attracted to suffering, guilt, and pain—things that are surely copious in my life (or so I think). And it’s not as masochistically gaudy and senseless as you think; I have come to believe that suffering and pain can be transmuted into something undeniably good—something far greater than what our feeble minds can possibly grasp. But then again, maybe it’s my upbringing as a Christian that dictates the whole of me to be so attracted and attached to the traditions and rituals of the Church at this part of the Liturgical Year. I mean, when you really think about it, this is why believers call themselves Christians—the fact that Jesus, the one whose birth was foretold, made good with His promise of salvation by offering His own life. This unconditional love is still the model I subscribe to, as intangible as the concept might seem. Or maybe that’s just it, my soul is and has always been in dire need of a love that is colossally strong, so monumental that it could save the souls even of those who are yet to be born; a love that transcends time and space.

I am in no way shoving my beliefs down your throat, dear reader. All I’m doing is expressing what for me is the most awaited time of the year, a time where I see some (if not all) hearts melt and feel any degree of repentance for their shortcomings—all rooted to lack of love, for oneself, for their neighbours, and for this earth and all living on and in it. All I’m doing is expressing what I think is this Good Friday’s rationale, a celebration of the greatest kind of love—the kind we all need, the kind we all dream, and maybe we hope to one day share—the selfless kind.

czarkastik:

Thank You JJ for showing me around LB last wednesday! :)))))))

You’re welcome, CC! :) Thanks for always being such a good and kind friend to me.

Post workout karaoke to a song I first heard when I was 6 years old and now has meaning. Consider this a #ThrowbackThursday! Thank you, Alison Krauss! Forgive my vocals and my lack of clothing (as usual).

Song dedicated to Miguel!

To Mt. Makiling’s Peak II, Alone

Experimenting with water

With the high school gang, celebrating Aizel’s 25th! :) Yeah!

Photos by the ever lovely Kat Andrade!

You’re mine.

You’re mine.

My love affair with Churches continues

St. Martin de Tours Basilica, Taal, Batangas

18 January 2014 

I turned a quarter of a century hosting a little something for these kids

[Thank you, Momma, for teaching me to appreciate the laughter and innocence of children, to remember that I was once a child. Thank you for teaching me how to give, even if—and especially when—I feel like I have so little for myself. That’s when I know that, all along, I’ve had more than enough.]

I wish I could look like this as I turn 25 today. All day long.

January 2014

January 2014