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“There may be times you may feel giving up to all your problems that you’re going through. Life maybe unfair but always remember that when no one else will stand by your side I’ll be right here for you. Be positive. Life must go on. If you messed up, so what? Learn to stand up again and walk with confidence. If other people laugh at your failure, then prove to them that they are wrong. Luv u nak!”

Thus, goes the text message from my nanay. After graduating from the nursing school, I know how she expects me to excel on my field. But I failed her. Of course nothing to blame than myself and all my decision makings I have to admit that I messed up. And I can’t really admit that it was intentional.

Back in my elementary days, even during on high school, I have never fancied myself pushing in any of the allied medical professions. But I did it. I graduated from a private college, I made it cum laude and I became a Registered Nurse rightly after.

I didn’t practice it. I was hired in an events and communications company. I enjoyed the corporate world but I resigned after a year and decided to go freelance. Event is one time big time. It gives me a sense of fulfillment in a way that I can really express myself in every detail of it.

But why am I not contented? And I always have this sense of guilt. Maybe because this wasn’t my parents want me to do. My mother has always been apologetic every time she will call and tell me that I need to get a job base on my degree. And I believe, I will, soon.

I know she cries a lot thinking that the only way I could repay back my most generous aunt who never fails to send me to school is to be well on my chosen field. But I promise you tita and mama that I might messed up today, but tomorrow I will clean. And it would be soon.

I feel sorry whenever I think of it, whenever I remember my nanay. Not just because until now I never had the chance to hid their advice, but also because I miss them so much. I miss myself being just laid back and simple. A probinsyano. And I’ve always wanted to tell them that I might be urbanized in many sense but I never change the way I love them.

It was just yesterday when I received this text message. I’m glad I had it. It was just right on time. And soon mama you will be fully proud of me!

why I LOVE to dream?

The wall is white and brightens up by a luminous bulb. I can hear every tick of the clock. I can feel every drop of that saline solution coming from that hanging bottle connected to my veins. It was painful and penetrating.

It was yesterday when the Doctor diagnosed me of leukemia on its most chronic stage.

My family and friends are there crying in pain when the Doctor said I've got only few months, weeks or maybe days left to stay.

I see how their hearts break...

I was in denial. And I am not bothered thinking that I was just on the first stage of grieving. It was normal and I'm still strong. I don't know if I would feel the same thing in  anger, bargaining and depression and could easily go through acceptance. I know it would be different. I know it was a stage not a phase. I have to help myself. I have to be indulged in taking the next step, that's the only time I can continue grieving.

And now I'm apprehensive. I couldn't believe more. I'm anxious.

I realized learning these stages of grief from the nursing school is far much different when you yourself has to experience them. I tried to console myself but it never work.

I woke up and see the green wall of my room, my century old tv and some vintage frames with some assorted pictures hanging on my wall...this is my room, and it was just a dream I don't know if that was good or bad but thou was just a dream...

I remember telling my college best friend that sometimes, " i want to live my dreams at night and dream my life in the morning..." sometimes it make sense maybe because my mom told me the dreams are sweet and that almost everyone wish us of sweet dreams.

Sometimes I found this dream morbid and creepy. I'm dying, and of all people why me? and of all sickness, why leukemia? But I also find it sweet. I saw all my loved ones and friends that even in reality sometimes I seldom see them or seldom feel them. Dreams are from our subconsciousness...meaning they came from reality, it might be observation or long time event. Maybe watching the movie My Sister's Keeper contributed much in this dream, which by the way a real tear-jerker.

I called my college best friend and told him that, DREAM and REALITY, they both have bad sides but they are both sweet.