Thursday, March 27, 2014

M, Manila

Everything about that area reminds me so much of you. I felt like my chest was about to burst with all the sadness I tried to keep in  for the past few days, or months for that matter. 

But at the same time, I can't help but laugh silently as I try to recall everything, mostly our  conversations. 

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Highlights in my 11-year stay at St. Scholastica's College

Yesterday marked the feast day of St. Scholastica. In honor of her, (I know, I should be doing this during the school's foundation day. But I'm in a reminscing mood now.), I will tell you about the highlights of my stay at St.Scho Manila. 

Prep St. Reinildis - I made my first class cut at the tender young age of 6 years old! 

1 St. Clotsindis and 2 St. Willibald - I sorry, I cant even remember what happened here. LOL It will come to me in the coming days. 

3 St. Milburga - My first time to join a 3-day long trip to Ilocos Region. Fort Ilocandia Baby! I learned that I should open my camera when there's film inside, otherwise, Kodak will note "Exposed Film" in the package

4 St. Placid - I was asked to step out of the classroom because I was giving hand signals to my friend. First time to be part of the "star section". A Christmas Nightingale performace!!! 

5 St. Lioba - I met my future bestfriend. I was part of the class' volleyball team but didn't play during the intramurals. Number 5! Another 3-day trip to Baguio! 

6 St. Berno - Almost landed ingrade 7 but the universe did something, or the admin did some exemptions. whew!! A Midsummer Night's Dream, crazy production with  crazy issues. I learned not to comb my hair in public. It's cheap daw kasi.

1-A  I met my barkada for 7 years and counting.

2-I The whole year smelled like onion. HAHAHA!!  My first ever stage performance with me as one of main characters during the Afro-Asian Festival. Indiaaaa!! My class was shaken by Mr. Isidro's shout with matching banging on the table just because of the Dynastic Cyle and Fashion Cycle. Velcro! 

3-Assertiveness 3-ASS in short. These classmates of mine taught me how to ride the bicycle on the CCP grounds. Opened my eyes to the new world! LOL. I went to Boracay for the first time with most of my barkada! F4 invasion! 

4-Order One of the most disorder classes  of batch 2005, if not, the most teachers who walked out on us. Two of my "bestfriends" left me, one got pregnant, the other had to move to US. DC me, being Veyonce!! 

It was a good 11 years, I must say. 

Monday, February 3, 2014


Something has changed. It's like the spell that was casted upon me was finally broken. Maybe it was Maningning Miclat's poem and Warsan Shire's poem that helped me to actually see. Or time broke the spell. Or it was both. Or the realization that I am Vitzka! Stop doing these things to yourself! 

Thank you, you two,for being a cruel part of my life. 


Wednesday, January 29, 2014

last words

I was reconsidering last night if I shall continue to ride the bus going home from Cubao. Last night, the bus ride home gave me one thing to think about: death. 

I sit beside windows when I ride the bus especially if it's a long one. Last night, I hopped in a JRMS bus because I really wanted to go home already. Usually, I would wait for an air-conditioned bus. But last night, I hopped in the third "decent" Bicutan-bound bus. To cut the story short, I moved away from the window seat three times int the entire trip because I thought those three times will cause a collision and I will die or suffer first before dying.

So after that three close encounters to accidents, it got me thinking what would be my initial reaction if I was caught in a bus-related accident. My first instinct would be protect myself using my trust backpack. Second, I'd probably, if i have a  few seconds to spare, I would position myself under the seats of the bus. Third and last, I would probably hold on to the railings. Stupid, I know. 

And then it hit me. I remember Sir Jef, one of my bosses, told me he's going to be involved in an head on collision, he would remove his seatbelt, and embrace the impact. And I thought, I'll do the same thing. I'll embrace the impact. No more agonies, no more pain. Instant death.

And this is where it gets interesting, if you know you are about to die and you have few seconds of life, what would be your last words? 

I thought about that too while riding the bus. I was contemplating between uttering,  I'm sorry and  I love you Mum. I was like, too dramatic. But then I it hit me. I found the perfect two-word for my last seconds of my life. 

Thank you. 

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Thursday, December 26, 2013

I can't wait for 2013 to be over

I just want it be over. OVER and DONE. But I shall be having my last hurrah for 2013 in two days!! 


Thursday, December 5, 2013


It's 6:28 am and I have been sitting on the same spot for more than two hours at the waiting area of the airport. My mum sent some things through her friend who's spending the holidays in Pangasinan. Unfortunately, her flight is delayed. She was supposed to arrive at 3:40 am. Hence, the waiting and sitting and good thinking of me  of putting the Josh Hutcherson SNL episode and Downton Abbey episodes in the iPad. But I've only seen the SNL episode amidst the waiting. 

I look around and the arrival area is now filled with people, mostly family members of OFWs (Overseas Filipino Workers). This is one side of the airport arrival atmosphere that I adore. The other one is that the airport is some sort of a portal to me. 

My mum went to the UK in 2009 and ever since then, my sister and I have been going to the airport to meet her friends and get the things she sent through them or pick them up and drop them off to their destination. We did that for almost three years. I always felt melancholic whenever I meet her friends. I was hoping it is going to be her that we pick up from the airport.  I can feel her among them.Well, she always calls and talks to her friends after our introductions. Most of them, I haven't met (duh!) so I rely on pictures that my mum sent or just plain instinct if I can't remember their faces. 

Last year, my mum visited and I wasn't there to pick her at the airport. I was preparing for our exhibit. I was actually thinking of skipping our opening just to be able to pick her up myself. I've been seeing her friends arrive yet I wasn't able to "salubong" her. Nevertheless, it was nice seeing her the next day. 

Airports never fail to make me feel abandoned and melancholic. It's not the best of feeling yet it's something I look forward. 

It's 7:11am, still sitting on the same spot, watching people wave at their loved ones. It's 7:12am and I've got a ton of shit to do.