bleak and pretty

bipolarity, notes about daily life, and some personal essays.

A quick type while on lunch break. Feeling like I just need to put some words down.

I've been reading up on the legal requirements and implications of marriage. Am I planning to get married? Yes. Is the situation normal/typical? No.

What is normal, btw?

“Normal” or “socially acceptable” looks like this:

  1. You've dated for some years
  2. Your parents/family all agree about the wedding
  3. You're not supposed to be pregnant
  4. Both of you should have jobs/careers
  5. A wedding is a cherished, celebrated major family event

Here is my reality:

  1. We've known each other for less than a year
  2. He hasn't met my parents / my dad doesn't want me to get married outside of his church
  3. I want to be pregnant before getting married / I want to be married so my child doesn't have an illegitimate status / less paper work for admission of paternity
  4. My SO is broke and I'm just planning to hustle
  5. We want to keep it a secret and as transactional as possible (at least for me)

Marriage is a social institution. It is a legal matter for the most part. When I was a little child, I adored the flowers, wedding bells, and shit, and dreamed of my perfect wedding before I even fell in love with a man. Now, as an adult in mid-20's, I see it as a building block of our social and economic fabric.

Why the sudden decision to enter marriage and family life?

It has been a sudden decision for me, yes. I found myself in a situation where a happily married life could work, and so I decided to take the leap and just go for it — all in good faith.

I avoided pregnancy and the choice to commit to a man for many years because 1) I was never with the “right person” 2) I hadn't figured out what I wanted in life yet.

When I was 19 or 20, I embraced the idea of getting married and starting a family of my own — at a very young age. But I never got pregnant, my ex-boyfriend didn't have any real plans, and I ditched him because it felt like I had “more to experience.”

The next time I found myself in a long term relationship, I cohabited with a guy who didn't have an answer to the question, “Do you still plan to marry me?” After being roommates for a couple of years, I ditched him one summer.

What followed was a non-stop string of hook ups, FWB's, one night stands, and all horrible things that made me feel like I was never ever gonna get into a serious relationship anymore.

Then, some months ago, I met an amazing man who wanted to have a serious relationship. I decided to give it a try and see what our lucky stars would give. There'd been some rough patches in our relationship, but overall, we're very much happy. Plus, he can cook.

I have never been so attracted to a man before. I just want to be all over him, most of the time. It feels like I've finally found my quiet paradise.

So what's up now?

About a month ago, I told him that I wanted to get pregnant. Yes, for reals, as in pregnant with a large belly. Like, I wanna have a baby come out of my vagina.

I wanna take on some bigger responsbility in life and finally say goodbye to my reckless days as a dope-smoking-nicotine-junkie-on-the-verge-of-bulimia. I wanna say goodbye to myself as a young woman who didn't know where to put all the emotions in her heart, so she went to the wrong places in search of love.

I want to nourish life and pour all the love that I am capable of giving. I want to stop preventing a possible pregnancy.

If nature grants me a child, I will be thankful for it and give my best shot at becoming a loving mom. Right now I'm saving up and planning to quit my city life a few months after delivering my child.

So I'm just waiting to get pregnant now. I don't see myself living in the city by the end of next year.

Tying the knot is something me and my SO will talk about as we go along. I hope everything falls into the right place. It feels like I'm walking on my toes, but I am pretty sure I'll be fine. I have big faith in Wu Wei.

I just have to make sure that I am no longer my own worst enemy.

Now I miss the city and the smell of my studio apartment. It feels like I've had enough water time and moments with my man; it's time to go home. And yet, my flight is still a week from now. I'm somehow itching to go back to my “real life” before I completely unlearn how to live it.

I choose not to think of work life as “real life” and my “vacation” as a distraction from reality. Both require work in some way.

I'm polishing my beginner surfing skills. I've been on the water at least a couple hours everyday. I've got muscle pain and all now.

I also have to deal with people. As an introvert, I miss all the quiet time and having the universe to myself. The beach life is quite exhausting when you think about all the noise and people. And mind you, I'm in a pretty remote spot right now.

I've been taking time to read and write in the midst of my vacation. I guess I've been using it as a form of escape, a way to feel comfortable, as if I'm at home. A semblance of my old life.

Funny how taking a vacation even takes work for me.

Right now I want to engage in something deeply romantic, beyond just looking into my partner's eyes or kissing him. I want to gaze at the stars while sitting by the shoreline. I want to go somewhere deep and look within myself.

I want to be away from all of this. I want to be home.

I was looking out to the shore. I was feeling like I was in the wrong place (wrong beach) with the wrong people, doing the wrong things.

The surf has barely been enjoyable to me.

My mind wanders to other places and possibilities. What if I took myself somewhere else? What if I invested my time doing something else?

These what if's...they sting.

And I absolutely fear that I might be deciding to do the wrong things. Like, just a week ago I wanted to get pregnant.

Now I wish to have my period so bad.

And then I tell myself: You gotta make decisions that you can live up to. You can't live the rest of your life changing your mind and dumping people and going away.

I wish my thoughts and feelings are a little more consistent. But yeah, thanks to bipolar I'm lucky if I'm not suicidal for the day.

I kind of don't know what to do anymore.

I kind of just wanna cry and get lost somewhere in the woods. Or maybe smoke a cigarette.

This is what happens when you leave home and brave the outdoors. You can always get lost, be misplaced, and find yourself struggling to figure out your way back to where home is.


Time flies. It's been many weeks since I wrote in, and I now return with a feeling of just wanting to be home.

Where have I been? Oh, many places. I created a wordpress site, tried to score some writing gigs, came back to my good old freelancing content mill, and basically tried to become a real writer.

I've been trying to go out of my comfort zone and write like a legit blogger. Right now, well, things just aren't happening according to my expectations.

The work is slow, the clients are too demanding for the rates they're willing to pay, and I can't make enough time for writing. I don't think Wordpress and a paid domain is going to be a good investment.

Maybe I'm destined to ghostwrite forever.

Maybe I'm not writing in a way that's compatible or enjoyable to me. I should be diligent like Kris Gage or comfortable with words like Shannon Ashley.

Yes, I admit that I am in a writer's crisis. I am not happy about my writing habits, but yes I can soft type like a real pro.

I guess I'll have to revise, think, brainstorm, re-write, re-structure, and find my writer's purpose.

I don't want to write Facebook posts anymore so I'll just take things directly here.

So here it goes.

I've been taking long walks lately, for health reasons. It's primarily physical (burn more cals) but I can find mental benefits, too. It gives me a safe and quiet space to think about things in my life.

Well, as of today, I'm like, “I'm taking my board and camping tent to Leyte and I'm entrusting it to a man I've known for less than 2 months.”

To be fair, I once entrusted my board to someone I've known for only like a couple weeks (and yeah, it was instant regret) but this time, it feels like a huge deal, a big commitment.

Basically, I'll be committing all of my surfing and most, if not all, of my vacationing time with him.

A big deal

My favorite part of life, the most treasured chunk of it, is somehow being put in the hands of this other person.

I know for a fact that 2 captains on one ship doesn't always account for a smooth ride.

Like, last night, I was invited to join their crew for a surfing event in Samar. Initially, I was all for it, then I kind of realized that things tend to be fucked up for me when I travel as part of a group.

Compromise is such a dreadful word

He was supposed to join the competition.

On the other hand, I couldn't go on a different date because my trip was already paid for and planned.

He decided to give way, I think. So now thanks to my visiting, he just missed an opportunity to compete. He'd rather just be with me so we could surf together.

Well, he did ask me to come over for Christmas.


I don't like being stuck in complicated situations. I don't like taking away from people or giving so much. I'm an uncaged bird, supposedly.

I thought all about this while having my long walk earlier today. Freedom is still my most valued virtue.

In the back of my head, I just thought, well if things go sour, I could always take my board and surf somewhere else; I've done it before.


I'm sipping turmeric tea while listening to City of Stars from “La La Land” Soundtrack. Yes, I am lonely. I am also tired.

I voluntarily deprived myself of comfort food and another cigarette today. Just ignore 3 more cravings or so and I'd be off again.

I'm still nursing a bit of cough and the green pleghm shows that I haven't recovered.

I want some silence.

Cooking my own meals and shopping for whole foods lately has given me a different perspective. I've also been exercising more rigorously. I don't know why I'm really doing this anymore, but being hands on on these things is kinda therapeutic.

I just gotta quit cigarettes again.

Today I tried to eat a cake but didn't finish it. Too much sweetness doesn't taste good to me anymore.

I'm not sure what's going to be the end of this, but as I'm writing this, I feel so alone and lonely. I could give him a call but I decide not to. I kind of just want to be alone with my thoughts.

There's a yearning inside me that somehow causes an ache. I wish I were at the beach. I wish I were sitting on my board.

The city feels like a huge trap.


Many things have happened since the last time I wrote here.

I went to Leyte, fulfilled a stream of writing projects, built a professional website, created another website (about to write the first few articles this weekend), combed my hair, and started a new diet (with a goal of having toned abs and better discipline.)

I was mostly sleep deprived.

What's up right now

It is becoming hard to maintain a tight grip on work motivation. Some days it's extremely hard to come up with designs for my clients. I just wanna write and focus on my semi-non-existent writing career.

My major focus as of the moment is establishing another income stream so I could finally move out and start a new life somewhere near the ocean waves.

Other than that, I just wanna look really hot.

*Everything makes me crave peace and silence. *

Just blabbering to pass the time

I have decided to spend the remaining 20 minutes of work just writing.

I'm not sure if this composition is making sense but fuck it, I'm just going to free-write. I just wanna spill my thoughts. I will just save the writing efforts for another time.

Ah, I wanna go surfing.

I heard from him this morning and he said, “The waves are pumping.”

I wish I could carry a longboard and paddle out right now. It makes me sort of jealous that he could pretty much go surfing whenever he wants.

Meanwhile, I'm stuck at work, in front of this soul-sucking desktop computer. I just tell myself that it won't be soon before long; I'll be quitting this city life and be living the salty dream.

I don't really look forward to paydays anymore. “Surf days” are what excites me.

Five more minutes

I just really, really wanna go home now. I'll be listening to Sunsick Day while walking to the jeepney stop. I'll be doing some meal prep later and buying food containers and kitchen stuff.

I'm a little excited. It feels like I am finally getting my life together like it's 2014 all over again. Like it's college — before I fucked it all up.

I feel very much alone, though, in the sense that I have never felt so far from my family. Can't remember the last time I talked to mom.

I wanna be alone.


I called in sick to work last night.

I rarely used sick leaves; only about a few times a year. I thought I was getting depressed or having a case of the blues —

— no, it was motherfucking influenza.

I thought about pushing myself and going to work even when I could barely stand up, but luckily my boyfriend talked me into staying home for the night. I did. I slept like a baby, only I was in pain.

I felt a little better earlier today. Thankfully I managed to finish my writing assignments. I'd been writing from 10:30 am to 3:30 pm. Five hours.

I'd been wishing that this all be over and that I wouldn't have homework anymore, because damn having side jobs apart from full time work.

Nevertheless, I'd been thinking about taking assignments from EPH again, to exercise writing and to increase my writer ranking. That's part of the plan to resign.

Just taking it one step at a time. Slowly. Carefully.

Regarding personal writing projects, I'm not really sure where the quest is going. I kind of just want to stay here and take life slowly.

Maybe I'll write an ebook. Start a blog for real. I don't know. There's many trajectories from here.

...or Tuesday blues, if you work Tuesdays to Saturdays.

#blog #rants

I'm in the office, sitting at my work desk, sipping coffee and trying my very best to pull my shit together for the first work day of the week. Ain't fun.

The Chinese president is visiting and staying in my city; this has caused the closure of several roads.

And unluckily, my driver was not aware of it, so we ended up taking a closed road and going back to take another route.

Great job, politics. Absolutely great job.

I was late for a minute. I thought I was coming to work early, so I planned to eat sandwich before everything else.

Now I'm forced to be creative and pleasant for the day. Awesome!

I have a bit of a cough. My body doesn't feel so well after my weekend trip.

I didn't get to write anything for my clients earlier today. I have work that's due by Thursday and by the end of the week. I need to muster creative powers and survival instincts to get through.

Plus, I'm juggling all these other things:

  • Setting up a freelancer profile – marketing my skills, getting clients
  • Contemplating whether I should work in a content mill again, that one where I started from five years ago
  • A phone call for mom that I've procrastinated
  • Feely feels for new boyfriend <3
  • Surfing fitness
  • Regular daily office work
  • Actually taking care of myself

I feel like I just wanna disappear, crawl inside a shell, or wrap myself up in my lover's arms.

My surf trips – these weekend getaways – are never the same.

The 4-6 hour commute, the crowd, the weather and wave conditions, what happens to me when I get on my surfboard – it's a different thing everytime I'm out there. I'm literally carrying my surfboard to the same spot over and over, but never to the same beach.

Sometimes I am not so sure about what I'm looking for anymore.

I just know that I'm paddling out, against crashing waves and dangerous currents; waiting for a swell that I could chase and catch – and hopefully ride to shore.

For a beginner who's just started paddling out on her own, rides are hard-earned gems. Most of the time, it's just wipeouts, nose dives, and missed waves.

Whenever there are local surfers or more experienced people in the line up, I feel very much like an out of place pebble. I just sort of watch people in awe, forget that I was even surfing, and just see everyone score countless waves while I sit on my wobbly board.

I smile. It's easy to just be intimidated, feel like a total kook and give up — but instead I tell myself that these guys earned their skills through hard work, discipline, and determination.

I'm not going to be a good surfer after just a few afternoons of paddling out there and trying to catch waves. I'm gonna have to spend a significant portion of my life doing so. I'm gonna have to work really hard if I wanted to learn this sport and be something I could be proud of. I need more water time, strength and endurance, plus a hell lot of patience and desire to actually do this.

Here's what I'm sure of: I want to be chasing waves for the rest of my life, for as long as I could.

I'm leaving my life in the city, quitting my job, and starting a new chapter somewhere near ocean waves. I need to be able to get in the water more than once a week. I couldn't let rigid commitments get in the way of my surfing. I am willing to denounce the comforts of life all for my love of the sea and for riding waves. Yes, I am basically throwing my life into the ocean.

Goodbye employment and all.

“So what are your plans?”

I'm saving enough money as backup, establishing an alternative income source, then finally moving out. (Maybe somewhere south?) I have to keep paying my insurance and retirement fund. I'm doing the math and planning to live a life that's as basic as possible. I'm starting now – I'm seeing how I could go spending as little money as possible.

“What are you going to say to your mom?”

I missed my younger sister's birthday celebration. I missed our team building. All because I couldn't go more than two weeks of no surfing.

That's it. I guess I'm now surfing for good. I'm leaving this corporate life to become a beach bum, a non-pro wave rider who's denounced a more “fruitful” life all for a hobby.

All for something that's never the same, unpredictable and dangerous; an elusive summer love. Sounds really crazy when you think about it, but yes I'm living a life spent on love and nothing much more.

Besides, this is the more emotionally healthy path. I might never have to be depressed ever again if I went surfing as frequently as possible. This could be my life saver. This could be the only life for me.

I just need to chase it and make it my own.