Thursday, November 5, 2015
QLC Moment #4
One day, you wake up and start asking the question over and over again...only to do nothing in the end. It's a question that I try to justify with excuses every freakin' time, but at the end of the day, whether I deny the truth or not...the answer is something I have to face at the end of my life.
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Scary Stuff: Part 1
Since today is Halloween and I’ve had a bit of time to type this down, let me tell you a few personal stories I’ve had with the paranormal. I don’t have a third eye, but I have three friends who do. One of them managed to partly open her third eye because of her best friend who has hers opened…which is why I’m scared to get too clingy with someone who has these abilities because she said they can influence you without you knowing it. The other two they said, sort of was inherited from their family, slowly opening their third eye as they got older whether they liked it or not. I have met other people who claim that they also have their third eye open, but I’m not sure if it’s true…. Some things I learned from hanging out with them are:
-The more you talk and are interested in the paranormal, the
more you become a target.
-Those with third eyes are more vulnerable to things when
they are tired or in an emotional state.
-When you suddenly smell a stench that resembles garbage out
of nowhere, the tendency is that the spirit close to you is that of a rotting
corpse, and if you could see them they would be in a state of decomposition.
-When your friend with a third eye suddenly falls silent and
uneasy, chances are they are seeing something. (I hate it when they do that!)
-The closer you are to them, the more chances you’ll get of
experiencing paranormal activities.
-At some point they will be get used to it, but they will
always be afraid when they see one.
-Based on my friends who have their third eye opened, they
are more sensitive towards people as they have heightened senses and they can
tell your emotions without you telling them.
-Said one of my acquaintances (who I doubt has a real third
eye) the church is one of the places that a whole lot of spirits reside in,
much more than other places.
-They say some spirits have no faces. If they would describe
it to me like looking at the face of a person on TV with bad reception, wherein
the faces are blurry and has a warped to zigzag distortions, like static effect
or something so you don’t see the details on their faces…
-Every person is vulnerable of having his/her third eye
opened.
I’ll cite three top experiences I’ve had of a scary
encounter…other than crossing the elliptical road towards Quezon Memorial
Circle or that time I almost got bitten by my brother’s then pet snake. I have
more stories though…but maybe that’s for another post. Probably one of the
memorable ones that I’ll tell in another post is what I experienced staying in
an all-girls dorm in Manila for one semester—and was told a few hours before I
was about to leave and transfer to my uncle’s townhouse that I had been sleeping
in a room where a suicide had occurred. Wahhhhh!!! And it explained a lot of
things—but that’s for another time.
Sleep Paralysis at a Hotel in Iloilo
This happened on the eve of April 28, 2012 (I know the exact
date only because I still have the pictures I took that day.) We were on a
family trip to Iloilo; basically the whole clan was there to celebrate my
aunt’s golden anniversary of being an Assumption nun. If I’m not mistaken, we
booked in Amigo Hotel, the room I cannot recall the number though. Since we
booked several rooms, one of my aunts asked me to stay with her in her room. The
room was a double bed deluxe; she slept on the bed close to the window while I
slept on the one close to the bathroom, right in front of a huge full-length
mirror. On our first night, everything seemed fine until I woke up in the
middle of the night and could not move my body—any part of it! It’s like
something was pressing me against the bed, heavy weight and unmoving. I
couldn’t even move my fingers and it freaked me out. All I could do was swivel
my eyes making sense of the dark room, at some point my eyes landed on the
mirror right at my foot—it was positioned right in front of my bed so I was
supposed to see my reflection, but it was PITCH BLACK!! The light on the bathroom
was left on and I could see that thin line of light reflect on the wall because
the bathroom door was slightly open…and I was trying to just stare at the
mirror waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light—BUT NO, I found myself
staring at a black hole for what seemed like a really long time. It took some
minutes before my brain cells started to digest the reality that I was awake
enough to be living the nightmare—and the worst part of it I wanted to pee! So
yeah, I kept it in and closed my eyes forcing myself to sleep off the
situation. The next day I convinced my mom to stay with my aunt for the second
night without her telling my experience because I’m a good daughter like that,
and went to stay with another aunt that night without much thrill in the room
we stayed in. I asked my mom if she was fine with the room, she said it was
okay…so I kept mum and spoke the experience with my friends instead, one of
whom said his mom experienced the same thing.
He said that it was the same situation, but it was in their
house when it occurred some years ago. His mom woke up in the middle of the
night, her bed was also facing a full-length mirror. . .but hers was a much
scarier thing because while I saw no reflection in the mirror, what she saw the
image of a ghastly lady that resembling Sadako staring at her from inside the
mirror. He said his mom also could not move any muscle and felt helpless at the
situation. The mirror he was referring is no longer there and is already
covered in mantle in their storage. I later found out about the term sleep
paralysis, and that it should be nothing to be scared about…darn right. It’s
that state wherein we are awake but the signals cannot be transmitted to the
muscles so we are unable to move, and to which my friend’s mom’s case she was
just hallucinating. Yeah, I have been told and have read that mirrors are
portals and that positioning it right across your bed makes you vulnerable to
other dimensions, my bed in Bacolod has my late lola’s huge round mirror right
across it but I never experienced such things in my room…I experienced
something else…
Whispers in My Ear
This creepy unexplainable experience happed in my room in
Bacolod. So…I think there were only two or three of us in the house that day,
we’re usually nine if it’s a complete count. Anyway, I’m not sure how long ago
this happened, but that memory still gives me the chills every time I ponder on
the memory. Brrrrr! It was afternoon, right after lunch because I was having a
much unnecessary siesta that day, when all of a sudden I woke up to a whisper
right at my ear. I can’t recall if I was in the middle of a dream or something,
but I just remember suddenly opening my eyes because I can feel a breath of air
wafting at my ears trying to say some ancient language. Until now, I don’t know
what language it was…like a babble of a Gregorian chant, but not specifically
sounding exact. It’s like being in a classroom where everyone is mumbling all
at random and you can’t make out of one specific word, now imagine that chaotic
noise being whispered right at your ear by a collective of male voices and you
feel that tingle in your ear when someone whispers right next to your ears that
you feel the hairs vibrate. I just remember opening my eyes, scan the room if
anyone was there, jumping out of bed wondering if it was a bad joke or
something—BUT NO! The maids were also in their rooms asleep far from mine, my
parents were not in the house, my lola in another room also sleeping. . .so
yeah, that gave me really bad goosebumps when I realized it was not a normal
thing to happen to a person. My other lola died in my room back in 1997 and I
moved there after she died, and I smell the scent of roses at random times, but
at least it’s a comforting feeling…the voices weren’t. The fear was real. It
made me uneasy—and on top of that, it ruined my completely beautiful afternoon
nap!
When the Chair Moved on Its Own
This happened more recently, like several weeks ago, also in
our house in Bacolod. I know, there’s something in our house in Bacolod, but I
have to live with it since I live there at certain times of the year. This
time, it was in my parents’ room. Since they went out of town for the weekend
and I was sick with flu, I decided to vacate my room because my other lola
sleeps there now (I’ve accepted the fact that there will come a time when I’ll
be staying in a room where both my grandmother died,) and I wanted to be a
loner that night. Anyway, four of us were left in the house that night, and
roughly a few hours before my bedtime (usually around 12mn-2am) I was on my
mom’s bed playing with her iPod, suddenly I heard something fell from her desk,
like the sound of a small Tupperware falling. I stared towards its direction
and saw the office chair swiveling. It didn’t make a 360 turn, but I saw its
seat still moving, ever so slightly turning like someone just tapped it on to
one direction. I pretended to be brave and searched for the item that fell,
ever hoping that it was big enough to cause the chair to move—BUT NO! I checked
everywhere, from her desk to the floor as to what went missing, but everything
was in place. Grrrr…I stood up and left the room swiftly deciding that I should
sleep with my grandmother. To my luck, the door was locked…so I had to slap
myself and make sure that the moment I return to their room my eyelids were at
a point of a breakdown. I slept with the lights on that night…but nothing else
creepy happened right after. Right now…if I reflect on the incident, it still
gives me the creeps.
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Blog is Three: Here's Ten Whatevers
When you have a blog and see that you’ve made six blog
entries at this point of the year—add to that the shocking fact that your blog just
turned three years old today—suddenly your life goes into turmoil, thinking
what to write? What to write? What to freakin’ write!? After some thought, I’ve
come into the realization that the easiest topic where words need not much
thought nor research is when I talk about myself. As a treat for myself, here
are ten random whatevers about me…simply because I’m not in the right mindset
to think about more important matters as of present:
1. The best years of my life happened when I was 16 and 21 years old. Those were graduating years, because I really enjoy the idea of new life chapters, plus school works were far lesser than usual—and the bonding with friends are more intense because we know we’re about to part ways for longer than just a weekend. These were years when I felt my stomach churn out of excitement for what’s coming (yep, I’m more of a future-inclined person.) There were a lot of life-changing decisions I made those years, decisions that I would look back from time to time and still smile about at this point. The worst years happened not so long ago . . . BUT I can feel the bestest ones are about to happen not so long from now (I told you I’m a future-anticipating person.)
1. The best years of my life happened when I was 16 and 21 years old. Those were graduating years, because I really enjoy the idea of new life chapters, plus school works were far lesser than usual—and the bonding with friends are more intense because we know we’re about to part ways for longer than just a weekend. These were years when I felt my stomach churn out of excitement for what’s coming (yep, I’m more of a future-inclined person.) There were a lot of life-changing decisions I made those years, decisions that I would look back from time to time and still smile about at this point. The worst years happened not so long ago . . . BUT I can feel the bestest ones are about to happen not so long from now (I told you I’m a future-anticipating person.)
2. I was
named after Saint Marie Eugenie, the founder of the Religious of the
Assumption, because almost all of my aunts were Assumptionistas, yet I never
really went to Assumption school for three reasons: I was afraid of being a
target in the school because of my name; I was too clingy with my parents back
then and didn’t want to live across the Guimaras Strait; and finally…I liked
being in a co-ed school, an all-girls school never really appealed to me.
Harot!
3. I was never a fan of boy bands or girl groups
(except Celtic Women) because I prefer the sound of a solo vocalist or duet. So
yes, Backstreet Boys, N’ SYNC, Spice Girls, and all other 90’s bands were not
in my childhood. While my contemporaries were busy drooling over Nick Carter, I
preferred going gaga over Michael Jackson, Kenny G and Richard Clayderman (Yes,
I’ve been into long haired men since the day I saw Prince Adam of Beauty and
the Beast.)
4. My ability to not retain much in my memory bank
has caused me a lot of awkward moments. I’m terrible at remembering faces, and
even more so at recalling names of people. Some of my more embarrassing
encounters were: mistaking the parish priest to be the husband of my cousin,
mistaking my friend’s mom as my teacher in grade school (I even said the whole “Wait,
come back, you look familiar. I know you!” line when she was about to leave
because she thought she’s mistaken, lines that my friends still annoy me with!)
Another was when the wife of my uncle spoke with me at home and I had no idea
it was her I was facing even after the conversation ended (I only realized it
was her when I described her face to my mom a few hours after. Urgh!) I can
still remember when my cousins would try to introduce themselves every time I
went to their house as a child. This is where I truly appreciate the labels of
lola, lola, tita, tito, ate, kuya, manong, manang etc. because it has saved me
countless times from having to say a random name at someone.
5. A couple of my better ideas (especially my
plates when I was in college) were conceived while I was in the bathroom. I don’t
know if it’s the damp air in a tiny silent space that lets my brain cells collide,
but I just remember going out for a toilet break every time I’m stuck on a
concept for an artwork or copy.
6. Part of my fond childhood memories were spent in
the cemetery in one of the cities I lived in. For some introverted reason, I
like spending some lazy afternoons in the cemetery, playing with the goats that
grazed there or just hung out at the tomb of my relatives. No. . .I don’t see
nor talk to dead people. . .I just happen to avoid those alive in the cemetery.
I like the contemplative silence in the cemetery, and I’m just weird like that.
7. I get restless whenever I had to cut my
fingernails short before, until now. Starting Grade 6, I just decided that long
fingernails is my thing and that it shouldn’t go less than 1mm—a decision that
often got me in trouble at school. Since part of our grade in Deportment is
good hygiene…well let’s just say my grades have gotten a couple of points lower
because of my constant refusal to cut my nails down to the edge of my skin. I remember
being called out of class a couple of times to go to the Disciplinary Officer’s
office so that I could cut my nails there…he even provided me with a nail
cutter just so I could keep my fingers less lethal. Thank goodness those days
are over! From a 90+ in Deportment, I’ve gotten down to 83-85 because of my
freakin’ nails!
8. I never go out of the house without at least
three sprits of perfume or mist on my neck and clothes. I can go out with just
combing my hair with my fingers and tie it into a bun, but I cannot smell like
bad sweat. If for some they feel naked without their wristwatch, I feel
incomplete without my scent. Actually I don’t have a signature scent because I
like switching my perfume after I consume the whole bottle, but one of my more
constant go-to for a casual day out is Victoria’s Secrets’ Enchanted Apple
(because it has a nostalgic effect on me) other staples that are cheaper
options are Bench’s Handsome Girl (because they phased out Naughty and Nice—GRR!)
but if I do have some extra cash, I like David & Victoria Beckham Signature for Her. I remember a scene in
high school when a friend who was blindfolded for an activity said, “I know it’s
you. Your scent is familiar.” Without me having to say anything, I just stood
beside him and immediately he muttered those words. I was quite flattered when
he said that, one of the reasons why I love spritzing.
9. Horses are my spirit animal and dream pet. I
have a great fascination for them as young as I could remember. My constant
birthday wish to my parents since I was a wee lass was either a pony or a horse—of
course that never came true, but if fate allows, I still consider owning my own
horse someday . . . some day. I’d even point and scream “HORSE!” every time I
spotted one on the side of the road during our trips to the province. The sight
of them makes me happy. One of the most elated feelings I had was around second
year college, when the one pulling the horse during a horseback riding trip let
go of the rope and allowed me to steer the horse on my own. I can still
distinctly recall the fear and exhilaration I had when I felt the horse
galloped and I was left to cling onto the reins as my body hopped against the
saddle. I felt so free and alive and proud that very moment. It was
amaaaaaaaaaazing!
10. I enjoy mythology, the paranormal and the
occult, but I’m not fond of horror movies; I prefer reading or watching
documentaries on the topic. The series Ancient Aliens amuses me especially Giorgio
Tsoukalos. Other shows I watch are Destination Truth, Ghost Hunters and Ghost
Adventures. One of the first books I read outside of my school textbooks were short stories of Homer’s Odyssey
Greek and Roman Mythology.
Monday, September 28, 2015
Thoughts of a Silent Fan
I’ve
been stopping myself from posting this because I’ve been waiting for September
26 to happen before I sit here and lose a couple hours of sleep, again. Just
the other morning I was out with my parents, right after exiting the hospital
my mom asked where we should go, whether or not we should eat lunch out; I
stared at my clock (11:30am) then blurted, “Uwi na tayo!” The moment I stepped
in the house, I dropped all things and turned on the TV. I just gave up the
possibility of having a decent meal and chose to eat leftover food just so I didn’t
miss the Kalyeserye. WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME!?
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
Le Jardin and le Mousse Au Chocolat
I've seen the blog posts and the photos, but never occurred to me that I should go and dine in Le Jardin because: one, it's expensive, and two, I never chanced upon it. Now I know why...it's located at the penthouse of W Fifth Building, the building that seems to be inspired by Minecraft with all the boxy-pixilated blues. Anyway, we came looking for Black Sheep, but the guard said it closed down and recommended Le Jardin instead. Why not? We were bored, had time, and didn't want to go home just yet.
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| I had to edit this a lot because of so much blue in the original shot. |
Skip everything else...the place was empty, so I loved it. The interiors were clean resembling that of a French villa with lots of white, plus it has a birds-eye-view of the city. And even you can spot shanties in between the concrete slabs of different hues, it's a charm that reminds you of being in Metro Manila despite all the fancy knickknacks. And even if lacks a certain degree of jardin in the Jardin, it's a nice place to sit back for an afternoon coffee or tea.
The coffee was okay...not as tasty as the ones you get from other cafes, but you'll get by.
It's their chocolate mousse that I want to commend more than anything. The pièce de résistance of my visit. We also tried their berry cheesecake, but this huge morsel right here fulfilled my craving of a really good mousse cake. The consistency and the taste was spot on...and it's also only Php140 a slice, it was even bigger than the average slice that most cafes offer these days. The taste reminded me of the mousse being served in Chateau 1771 which is my favorite, only here it's cheaper and bigger!
The best part is that after 9pm, if they're about to get new batches of cakes, they sell their cakes at 50% off!!! What more can you ask for? It's just a matter of knowing when though.
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| Triple Chocolate Mousse (Php140.00) |
Friday, July 31, 2015
Polymer Food Things
I just wanted to make sure I post something for July right before it ends and my birthday month begins. Sooooooooooo excited for what's ahead! <3
These are some of my new handcrafted creations that I did for our bazaar at 98B's Saturday Future x Market in Escolta, an awesome place for independent artists to sell their creations. It was our first time to sell in the location and despite the really humid weather that made us sweat icky stuff, the turnout was actually better than bazaars in malls. I personally love it there, if it weren't so hot and far from my place.
I'll be posting more about it soon, but for now I gotta rush out to meet up with friends to work on a new project that we hope to release by next month!
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
A Day and One-fourth in Hanoi
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| This is right across St. Joseph Cathedral. I wanted to go to Hanoi House Cafe, but we didn't have time. :( |
When I saw the fire trees were in full bloom during a recent roadtrip to Dumaguete, I reminisced the same fiery sight I stared at in Vietnam and how the flowering tree popped the place with its deep orange color--and then it occurred to me--it's been a year since my Indochina trip! Funny how it took this long for me to make a post, considering the excitement I had to update my blog when I arrived in Manila back then. zzzZZZzzz...
What I did find is a short paragraph of how I described Hanoi during our first night at our hotel. I wrote:
"Staring down from the airplane window, I could see the city lights of Hanoi and how far it is from the airport, a pitch black gap distanced the two. We're thankful that our hotel, May de Ville Backpackers Hostel, provided us with a free shuttle service...even if the driver was half-asleep and almost crashed the car several minutes in. I was about to have a my flashback-of-my-whole-life scene but our panic thankfully woke him up, making the 45-minute ride to the hostel more memorable than most. We arrived at our place in the city's old district at 2AM, so it's no surprise that it was dead quiet and unalive." -May 21, 2014
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