Tag Archives: life

Time of an Existence

Past, don’t hold me down,

Support my back

Hit me when needed

And pat me to cheer me up


Present, don’t be swift

Pass accordingly

And mend my tattered past

To my hoping future


Future, don’t be cruel

Come quick

But not today

Keep me believing

That tomorrow will yield something

Much, much

Much better


Life of an Existence

Life is never fair

Whoever said it is

Has never lived it the way it is supposed to be lived


Life is about

Curbing the crimson tide

Fighting what cannot be seen

And enjoying things in the midst of lacking


Life is…

Life is…

Life is about finding those very special people

And journeying together with them to your finish line to say,

“Ah, yes, life was never unfair after all.”

Fireflies, Fire Flower and Flying Bird

I dug up my old sketchbook from when I was still in elementary and decided to color some of my sketches that are still recognizable.

Here is the first one in what I hope to be is a series of posts regarding my childhood.



I live in a province so birds and plants are very common. I guess that is why most of my drawings in my sketchbooks are about landscapes, animals and plants.

I don’t think I’ve improved much in terms of drawing ability considering I stopped midway through high school. Maybe I’ll tell the story behind why I stopped drawing and writing at some point in my life in futures posts.

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

I won’t say grand things like, “If I give my best, I’ll accomplish everything.” But by trying my best, I give myself a fighting chance to HAVE SOMETHING rather than giving up and attesting to the fact that I was born NOTHING and will end up as NOTHING.

Senses tingling with  sweat as cold as ice and a little bit tachycardic is how I would describe myself right about now.

I finally clicked the much anticipated “Publish” button on Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing and am still waiting for their notification that’ll say that my book is ready, live and available on their store. The wait is killing me.

The mixed feelings this experience is giving me is really nauseating. And until this very moment wherein I am writing this blog entry, I’m still not sure if what I did was a good decision but what I am sure of is that this is something I really wanted to do.

Unlike the main character in my book, I am unable to see what lies ahead of me. With that said, there is no other option for me but to charge forward with all my might and hope for the best.

Picking up the pieces after a storm of failures

Fear is a very common emotion. Everyone has their own fears and people who say otherwise are either lying or just haven’t come out of the uterus yet.

There are many things a person may be fearful of. As a matter of fact, things to be feared can be anything under the sun. The most harmless existence something is to someone can be the opposite to another.

This year 2013 hasn’t been very good to me. It’s been a constant failure after another in everything I have done so far.

Sometimes I wonder what life will throw at me next. And it dreads me to think that my next failure would be from something I really love.

These past few weeks, to pick up myself from ruins, I finally mustered enough energy and confidence to try and self-publish my very first book, ebook to be precise. I’m still in the final stage of editing and every mistake I notice is another anxiety building up.

I fear for the things yet to come, the results of a venture where I know many failed. But I will push through with every bit of strength I have and invest even more heart than what I’ve given most things in my life so far.

I fear for the things yet to come and I hate myself for it but what I despise more is to see myself stagnant and stay the way I am now.

This is probably make or break for me but no matter what happens, no matter how much I might break after this, I’ll just make and make myself all over again.

After all my failures so far, I haven’t given up in a single one so why give up now?

Bonds That Transcend

If love has a form, what do you think will it be? I believe it’d be a piece of broken glass. A shard can take up any random shape. It might be big, palm-sized or even as small as powder. If you try to pick it up, you’ll never know if it’ll give you a big or small wound or maybe, if you’re lucky enough, it wont hurt you at all. And It will reflect light depending on how you hold it. I’ve already said many similarities but the best one is that like a piece of glass, love, even though it can reflect thy self from time to time, exist to show the other side whether it be person, object or animal.

Three weeks ago, my mom called me to say that one of my cats was missing. I have several cats at home and the one mom said to be missing was my one year old persian cat named Tomas. I didn’t feel surprised and just told her to look for him on top of my bird cages since he often climbs them and most of the time be too scared to come down. But then, it shocked me when she replied, “Jian, he’s been missing for two days now.”

Two days?! What? Deep inside I know I wanted to end the conversation with my mom. I didn’t want to accept that two days affirms that Tom really is missing. The rest of our conversation was like talking to my inner self. The following words my mom said were the thoughts that were running in my mind—He might be stuck somewhere and can’t get out. He’s such a glutton. Was he able to eat anything this past few days? Was he picked up by someone? Is that someone petting him right now? I hope that that someone knows that Tom hates the sun, cries when alone, lets him sleep on their foot and is scared of high places.

Our conversation dragged on until I really couldn’t talk anymore. She said that the most depressing and irritating part when they were searching the neighborhood on the day Tom went missing was when they knocked at our cousin’s house. His children were the ones who opened the door and before my dad could even say anything, they said, “We didn’t take any furry cat!” Can someone please tell me how the heck would our neighbors know that we have a missing cat as early as 6am in the morning?

I fell silent to the point that my mom kept saying ” hello” to check if I was still on the other line. I wasn’t able to reply so she hung up. I remembered the day I bought him. There were only two cats available that day and I immediately petted the one that looked like Garfield and told the store that I’d take it.

I was so sure of my choice. The other one had messy hair and I noticed that it was bow legged. “Who would choose you?” was what I thought. Everything changed in a matter of seconds. The one I picked was annoyed at my hand and ran to the furthest corner of the cage. The funny thing was that the other one shyly glanced at my hand then ran towards it in a funny manner. He brushed his head several times and then rolled over to expose his belly. I played with him while waiting for the owner to put the cat I chose in a box.

After a few minutes, the owner came to me and told me to get the one I like. I literaly circled the whole cage to catch the one that looked like Garfield but it just wont come. Then, I noticed the bow-legged cat staring at me. There was something in his eyes that made me pick him up and say, “This one! I’ll call you, Tom!”

The owner was shocked and gave me a discount since Tom had a deformed leg. He probably thought it was a wrong choice and I thought so myself. I couldn’t be more wrong my whole life.


During the time Tom first arrived in our home, the relationships between my siblings and parents were on the rocks (I’m close to everyone).The following months, Tom really became like a new baby brother. He mended the estranged relationship in our family. Playing with him became a bonding time since he’s more active when playing with many people. My mom who hates cats called him her son. My sister who was never a fan of my pets would sleep with him whenever she comes home. My brothers spoiled him. And my dad loved him so much that days after Tom disappeared, he asked my mom if she could feed my other cats from then on since he was really depressed not seeing Tom around during feeding time. My mom agreed since she said that my dad called Tom in his sleep and felt sad for him not knowing that she also does the same (according to my dad).

I came home after three weeks. Before entering our gate, I asked myself, “How will a bow legged cat jump over an eight feet tall gate when he can’t even jump on a dining table?”

Over dinner, we reminisced our moments with Tom. I wanted to go search our neighborhood again but then everyone said that they were doing it for three weeks straight. My sister even put up a reward and when she said that she was willing to give double the price of a fully grown persian cat to anyone who’d find him, our cousin and his wife just said, “It’s just a cat. Why are you people still hung up over a silly cat? It’s just ridiculous!”

My blood boiled until my sister said what she told them, “He is not just a cat. He’s family.”

The following morning, my sister and I searched for a replacement cat to brighten the mood of our parents. We looked for more than an hour on different pet shops but in the end she said, “It’s not the same. We won’t find anything because we never wanted a replacement. And I think mom and dad doesn’t want one either.”

Love really does take different forms and connects you to the most random and unimaginable people, things and in our case, animals. Up to this day I’m still hoping that Tom will somehow come back.

How about you guys? What’s your share of Bonds that Transcend?