Mystic Monday: Free Tarot Reading

I will give free tarot reading to 3 of my followers. I call this wild card method and I will use the Golden Tarot by Liz Dean.

Just select by instinct any number from 1 to 78 then comment it below. The first three will receive the prediction. Enjoy and good luck!

3 seconds

Life-long sacrifice
To be good
To be perfect
To keep my mouth shut
To listen
When I am told
That it is all right
To put others first
And make them happy
While I feel empty
Not to be sorry
And I am lucky

I am all of those
You think of me
And ask of me

But first of all
I am human
And out of 24 hours
Of being
All I need is 3 seconds
To utter: I am tired

Uke and I: Karma All Set

The grand essentials of choosing a ukulele as I have learned from a vlogger whose video I have shared here earlier:

Does it look good?
Does it feel good?
Does it sound good?


Karma is seamlessly looking good and I can’t hide behind it. It is not for beginner level because its parts are colorless and it would be difficult to position the fingers for one who does not have familiarity of at least the basic chords.

I was amazed when I first touched and played it. I found myself smiling and saying, “Wow…” Its size is perfect fit for my hands and I can press the strings and frets with ease. I once practiced for four hours straight.

It is true to what is called guitarlele: it is a ukulele that sounds close to a guitar. The metallic reverb is ideal for group jam sessions and renditions to the tunes of Hotel California, Viva La Vida, and Killing Me Softly with His Song.



With a tuner, a capo, and a gig bag, Karma is all set to hit the road.

Mystic Monday: The Awakening

In April of 1998, I just woke up one day predicting what would happen to the future of those around me. It was election season and my family was very much involved. In the heat of campaigns, candidates and political leaders would come to me desperate to know the outcome of their career.

Since then, a part of who I am has been awakened and I have began to explore and discover so much more about this gift I was given as an innocent child. They say that we also inherit these kinds of gifts from our ancestors. It is understandable. While my parents do not have such abilities, some of my relatives from both sides have. So one can roughly calculate how much amount of inheritance I have in my pot. I have two siblings. One does not have, in even a single ounce of him, an interest in anything that cannot be proven by science. The other one had been “trained” but it didn’t work on him.

I have been classified as a visionary fortune-teller because I was awakened without any form of material instrument. I have began predicting out of sheer picture or voice in my head. However, this has not limited me from exploring other ways to enhance my craft.

Growing up, I have explored different types of medium: clairvoyance, palm reading, tarot cards, playing cards, pictures, graphology, astrology, numerology, and a little bit of anything. I never study anything. It all just comes out naturally. I just know how to do it, without being taught. It becomes even more accurate when I simply focus, look within, and process the energy. By exploring, I mean simply asking anyone I know, “Can I try to read you?” And if anyone lets me then I will know that I can do it.

This gift I have is and will always remain a mystery. But I’ve realized some traits that somehow qualify one to receive and keep the power of divination. They say that it can be renounced. But as far as I am concerned, I am not renouncing it, at least not yet. I never asked for it but it was given to me. And for the longest time, it has been a part of who I am and I honor that.

Faith. There is one supreme being who is above all things in heaven and earth.

Truth. They only way to see truth is to be true to yourself and to everything.

Fairness. The gift must be used, not abused and misused.

Kindness. We are inherently good and we must not depart from this till the end.

In my next article, I might discuss the experience of living with the gift.

Mabubuo ka rin

Mabubuo ka rin:

Bibitaw sa pag-asang
Nakasalalay sa iba
Ang iyong pagsaya

Mag-iisa sa pag-unawa
Na ‘di mo hawak
Ang panahon nila

At sila ay ganoon din,
Malaya ka!

Hahango sa pagsandal
At titindig
Sa sariling mga paa

Kailangan mo sila
Subalit hindi
Sa tuwi-tuwina

Isinilang kang mag-isa
At mamamatay ring

Sa panandaliang
Sa mundong ibabaw

Mabubuo ka rin:
Pagtulong sa sarili’y


My prayer
Differences won’t matter
We’ll all share the same
blood and flesh and bone
The cages that define
Who we are
Will break
And we’ll all fly
And see the world
In spectrum
With our compassion
Friendship will blossom
It won’t be about
How we look like
But how we act
And reach out
As brothers and sisters
Sprouting from the
Only earth we have
And returning to
The very same earth
As dust in the wind

Uke and I: Karma

Out of amazement and excitement, I have proclaimed myself as a graduate of soprano ukulele and moved onto concert category.

After browsing and bookmarking attractive ukes online, I had finally decided to get myself bebé número dos: transparent, acrylic, concert uke.



As usual, name selection process went on. I had considered:

Aloha – self-explanatory
Vera – it is close to truth or veritas for being clear or transparent
Alba – inspired by Cable Girls’ protagonist and it means white
Metallica – it sounds like a guitar in spite of itself

I might still take these names in the future but for baby number two, I have decided it’s Karma.

Inspired by Kate Rose’s book, You Only Fall in Love Three Times, I learned about three loves and the second is called karmic love.


(Kate Rose)

I am calling my second ukulele Karma like it’s my second love. I feel more comfortable playing it than the first one and I spend more time using it now, for many reasons. I won’t elaborate because it is not always proper to compare two different loves. But probably I will just do a separate review in an article or video format.

Karma is here to remind me of two things:

What goes around comes around.

If I hold on long enough, I will find my ultimate love or twin flame.

The Gratitude Lane

As a child is taught
how to cross the street
There’s a lesson
that comes as a treat
Stay on the gratitude lane,
my dear,
life is speeding
danger is approaching
left and right

stop to ponder
look from within and without
listen to positive vibes

The road gets hard
with bumps
and detours
and mud

Stay on the gratitude lane
you’ll be safe here

Forget the doubting
Life doesn’t owe you anything.


Some people
Are dressed up as roulettes
You can spin them off
Place your bets
Try your chances
They are for playing
Games that aren’t for kids

Kids cry when they lose

— I like the signs they put
‘Minors not allowed’

Some kids are dressed up as adults
Pretending they can
What do they know?
They’ve never been hurt.

One should give loving a try
And no one comes out unscathed
To realize he is capable
Of bleeding
And healing
And rising up again

If he must
Join the game they’re playing
Go home crying
Or keep the roulette spinning

Not everyone in the casino
Is there to play.


He asked her,
Do you love me?
She inhaled his Question
And exhaled Yes
Saying nothing
Him not knowing
Is better
Than any other
Decision she is making
— all her life
Love has
Its way of
Taking her breath away
This one especially
She keeps
Feelings to herself
Just to

Mystic Monday: Tarot it through

I have never enjoyed online shopping this much. I hate to admit it but quarantine of seven weeks has “started” to take its toll on me. Boredom knocks on my door from time to time. While I used to enjoy window shopping, I have turned to online browsing and taken advantage of chatting with sellers. I also learn a lot.

Frequent browsing has directed me to one of my long-forgotten hobbies: tarot reading. I only have a few decks and they have to be special because they are pricey and using them takes a lot of unusual energy.

I have started to use and collect tarot cards in 2009 after my first purchase from Barnes & Noble. I was told that tarot reading is not for me because I am a visionary fortune-teller. (I’ll discuss more about it in upcoming entries for Mystic Monday blog series). But I am always mystified by the beauty, art, and message that they hold. Today, I got the Tarot of the Cloisters. You’ll see that it’s special because it’s unusually round. This is the only round deck I have to date.



Delight in simple things, and mirth that has no bitter springs.

– Rudyard Kipling

A step close to heaven

There is a place in my mind
I’d rather be
No one hurts
No one judges
I am free

Whoever figured out
That mind is a magnet
It attracts what it conceives
He is mankind’s brightest

For when others hurt me
And I hurt myself too
I revisit this place in my mind
Undisturbed by my own
Of myself and who I am
No one knows me but me
And in this quiet place on earth
I am a step close to heaven

Manila’s fate and my plan

Our lockdown has kept on from March 15th until at least May 15th. I made a timely discovery of the app “21 Days Challenge” by Kati & Lima. The list includes quarantine home workout, self care quarantine, study challenge, happiness, productivity, declutter, gratitude, no junk food, and social media detox. This means that I should be done with the challenges by May 15th.

I am thankful that I am a recluse like Emily Dickinson. This has been keeping me sane during self-isolation. With 103 books in my apartment alone, a laptop, a smart phone, unlimited wi-fi, a pair of dumbbells, a kalimba, a ukulele, a cajon, tons of pad paper, and bundles of pens, I shouldn’t be whining. There are convenience stores and pharmacies nearby. There are food delivery options. Still there are countless things to be thankful for. If I am bored (in my apartment) it’s my problem. I just need to maintain the positivity and remind myself every second that I am lucky to be alive and employed!

By the way, this blog entry is one of the challenges from the app. If you find the app interesting or you’re up for any type of challenges during quarantine, feel free to share your thoughts in the comment section below.

Silhouette: The Last Staw

On the verge of losing
Dueling with the
Ghost of me
I know nothing more
Of strategy
To defeat
My monstrous weakness
Self-isolation is real
Loneliness creeps in
I wish an iron bed
Could keep me from
Falling off
To the bottom of despair
I hope a garden of hope
Blooms out of
This glaring screen
I am never good at
Electronic connecting
I miss their eyes
I miss their touch
I miss the roads
I traverse too much
I miss telling time
Without sleeping twice
Because I am inside
Yet easily tired

Two days more
To complete the quarantine
On my own but forty
Days go on and on

In this crisis
I lead nothing
I initiate nothing
Just I myself
And a lot of fixing
Even just one person
Is too much to bear

I came in one
We’ve become two
My silhouette and I
I do not recognize
She is in the dark
And speaks too much

Let me turn on the light
And put an end to these
Let me clean her mess up
And give her peace


Of all things great and small
You deserve my adoration
The queen of the galaxy
So gentle and meek
Selfless and silent
Most coveted by dreamers and
Lovers alike

For I know you’ll never hurt me
No matter how much desire I hold
To touch your grandeur
To see light unfold

The nearness of you
Is my salvation
When tides of life drown me
You take away my sanity
Like what most loves and dreams do

Despite your majesty
You wait for your turn
And live in the shadows
Of those you love

You are my ultimate hope
When daylight demands
All strength there is in me

Your beam casts humility
To love and to dream
To persist in the dark
To be worthy of the trust

To forego
To withdraw
To acknowledge
What I owe

Soledad’s first month

I have finally decided what name to give my first-ever ukulele: Soledad.

Ah, it is so easy to understand why! Soledad is the Spanish word for solitude. She is my loyal companion during self-isolation. Since I already know how to play the guitar, learning the ukulele comes with ease. For a month I have learned quite a lot of chords and tried to play a handful of songs, from Imagine to Love’s Been Good To Me.

Imagine, Love’s Been Good To Me amidst Soledad! Salud! No beer tonight, though.

Scene of the crime

I have killed myself countless times
Only to wake up to same old days
Life goes on, they say
It matters not if you’re here to stay

Desperate I am to spare my self from suffering
From trauma and uncontrollable thinking
To my surprise every day
I erase the evidence anew
Of last night’s murder
Life won’t let me give in

Each time I commit my crime
I have no death wish but one:
To fall from the cliff of doubts
Into your ocean of acceptance
And stay there forever.


Seers tell me I will be alone most of my life
Separated from my better half
Only a person this meek and strong
Can accept that

Is it because of me
The decisions I make
Or is it just my destiny
I will humbly take

Solitude brings uninvited thoughts
Conjures ghosts of the past long gone
Taps indelible memories deeply buried
Subjects me to questioning around and around
You must be my turntable’s favorite vinyl record
My player’s most listened to
It keeps on repeating till broken in two
Why did I purchase such good quality
I should consider crushing and burning too

I can never talk to you
Because you defied gravity and went floating to the stars
Somewhere here or out there
We might get a signal

If ever we meet again one day
And you asked me if I still love you
I would not know what to say
And let the heaven decide instead
As it has always done
I did not have a say in us
Or maybe I had but did not realize

When thoughts of you visit me
I cut them with my reprise:
We don’t always end up with the one we love.

How do I unlove you?

How do I unlove you?
I should find a way
To break the cycle of pain

How do I unlove you?
To free my mind of doubts
To take other shots

How do I unlove you?
Or should I?

Coelho said,
“When looking for peace,
don’t look for love.”

I guess I am just tired
of fighting for love
Maybe it is time to surrender to it
For a change.

Even the world itself has to rest
It can only take two wars in a century.

Kung ganoon lang kadaling maging masaya

Kung ganoon lang kadaling maging masaya
Sana ay nagawa ko na
Noon pang takasan ang tanikala
Mula sa sarili ko’y kumawala

Sa harap ng salamin mga pag-uusig
Sa kalabang hindi ko makilatis
Akala ko’y marahas ang daigdig
Ako pala’y pugad ng hinagpis

Ang sabi’y maging mabait sa bawat isa
Sapagkat may labang kanya-kanyang dala
Subalit bakit sarili ko’y pinagkakaitan
Ng hinahon at kabaitan?

Kung mayroon akong nais kasama
Sa lungkot at sakit, sa hirap at saya
Sarili ko at ako, ‘di mag-iisa
Sa bawat sandali sisikaping lumigaya

Subalit ang daan ay hindi madali
Malubak, madilim, maraming pasubali
Kung ganoon na lamang maging masaya
Bakit hanggang ngayon ako’y nandito pa?

Self-isolation and the artist in me

Hey y’all followers!

I feel like the current situation is gradually changing me. I have not written for days now. Or probably my energy is being diverted to other pursuits. Weeks before the lock-down, I’ve been swamped with work. I’ve never been this tired or stressed since law school. Anything wrong with me? I have jotted down topics that I want to write about and it’s a long list but I haven’t had the drive to sit down and let the ideas flow. I’ve been mentally and emotionally constipated. I’ve been losing sleep and dealing with anxiety alone with all the restrictions. I needed to write this update.

Days before the lock-down, I ordered a ukulele online. I had thought of cancelling my order due to travel bans but it is great that I did not. Never underestimate the healing power of music. I knew that I would probably be alone during this pandemic crisis so I need to have a friend to comfort me and keep me sane. It arrived at my doorstep on the 17th of March, 3rd day of quarantine. Isn’t she lovely?


I usually name my musical instruments. I am still thinking of what to give this one. I wanted “Rosa” because it is made of rosewood. I had also thought of “Mary” because my good friend’s guitar is “Freddie”. Or I would probably combine into “Maryrose” or “Rosemary” or “Maria Rosa” for Spanish touch. What do you think?

And because everyone sticks online, I have also made pleasurable followings to inspire me to learn and to cheer me up. Please check these artists out and I hope they lift your spirits too:

In the midst of desperation with what is happening around the world, I also got accepted to the top school for teachers. I will be able to take education units and pursue a career in teaching and school administration. Someday I will be the Miss Minchin (sans the terror) from my favorite childhood story, The Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. One day I was crying, the next day I felt like flying.

Self-quarantine is a punishment but I hope the artist in you delights in it. Boredom begets creativity. Despair begets boldness.


I have been suffering from obsessive-compulsive disorder since I was eight years old. I do not know how it had begun but it was about the time when I had dengue fever. I have never taken any medication or undergone therapy for treatment. I have always thought that I can handle it through proper mindset and self-discipline. I have distaste toward maintenance medication due to my family’s history of kidney disease. I have never understood much about OCD until I learned about it through other writers’ stories as compiled in a book I recently read, Life Inside My Mind.


Growing up and even until now I have learned how to maintain proper behavior through self-help and diversion toward creative and artistic pursuit. I would have consistent episodes of self-harm coupled with sleepless nights. And if I wasn’t strong and creative enough, I would have already lost my sanity.

OCD is my friend and foe. I was that type of kid who was always busy embarking on a project. I am that type of adult who cares less if she’s being too intellectual. My condition has prompted me to always keep myself occupied in order to clear my mind of negative thoughts. I read, I write, I watch films, I learn languages, I cook, I play musical instruments, I work out. I always make it a point to have something productive to do for the day. Whatever it is that I do, I long for that sensation of my brain charging.

No one will fully understand that every day is a struggle for those with some type of mental illness. It is not something to be ashamed of and it is no one’s fault. I salute and admire those who are able to go through it no matter how extreme it can get. We all have different coping mechanisms and degrees of pain tolerance. And no matter how much we want to hide what is going on inside our mind, it will manifest itself at some point. And we have to accept it because it is part of who we are. Yet however persistent our diagnosis can be, it does not define who we are.

Our diagnosis is a friend and a foe. We just have to be patient and smart enough to tell which role it is playing at any given time. And we might as well play with it. Because if we take life too seriously, self-harm won’t leave us.

Life is fragile. Handle with care.



Second Cup of Coffee

For many years I cannot think of a day that I did not drink coffee. It is more basic than breakfast. Drinking coffee is usually the fifth thing I do upon waking up and before making any important decision for the day. I do not have much riches in life, but having a rich cup of coffee feels like I can conquer the universe.

Drinking coffee to start my day is my kind of me time. To the sound of ten commandments: You shall not talk to me when I am having coffee. If I have ever talked with someone over coffee, that person must be somewhat important I break my own rules.

Study says that the effect of a cup of coffee lasts for about six hours. Regardless, a cup is usually enough to get me through the day. Except for that second cup that I need once in a blue moon.

That second cup that says I got something specially important to do.

That second cup that says my brain is more active today than it was yesterday.

That second cup that lets me experience a moment of eternity.

That second cup that means the second chance we need once in a while.

They say everyone deserves a second chance. So when they say, “drink moderately,” I bargain, “I deserve this second cup because I will get it right this time.”

I have begun to hate nights

I have started blogging as soon as I turned 18. I had all the time in the world and I remember staying up until 4am passionately writing about anything I could think of. I once titled my blog as “Before Sunrise” because that was the time of the day when my muse seemed to arrive.

My classes would end about 7pm and during my short walks home I would contemplate and develop a mental structure of my blog entry for the day. Mostly they were about day-to-day happenings and my opinion about anything under the sun.

I had my share of “followers” back then. Yes, there were no “likes” but there were “comments” back in the days. The world wide web was relatively peaceful and we had no time for petty arguments online. An article or a comment was enough to create a fire. Bashers did not exist and we knew nothing about screenshots. However, critics existed in real life. We were just a right combination of brave and scared and if we were not careful enough, we would probably end up in jail.

Thirteen years later, I cannot write at 4am anymore. I have begun to hate nights because my body (and even my spirit) cannot do it anymore. So much had happened in a decade. As normally as any one in their 20s go through, the vampire has sucked the energy out of me. There is nostalgia, but there is no regret. Ironically though, I may have lost red blood cells to sleepless nights but through all of my writings I have been able to figure out those particular moments in my life, even though not life as a whole.

I am thankful that, in my youth, I have succumbed to writing. I may not see my muse at 4am anymore (because that is the hour I do not sleep but wake up to prepare for a day’s work), I am pretty sure that life happens before sunrise: I have to be awake to live it. And write about it any time of the day.

So somewhere in my youth or childhood
I must have done something good

(The Sound of Music)


The worst crime is not
killing the one you love
but a mother
disowning her child

Pain crawls from my heart
across my veins
I do not measure up
to what she wants

Raising a human being
is not a matter of love
but of respect

She does everything for me
But tears well up
She knows nothing about me

Nothing Else Matters

They say there is the one that is meant for us.
It will happen, nothing will come between us.
It is a natural phenomenon that we can’t explain.
It clears the head, it heals the pain.

When the one arrives in heaven’s time,
No matter what, it feels all right.
The world had turned its back on you,
To him you are wonderfully true.


“The magic of our first love is our ignorance that it can never end.”
“First cut is the deepest”, how do you mend?
Love is a pit, invisible you can’t avoid.
Endless questions fill the void.
A love lost for the first time,
Like a helium balloon that goes and bursts in the sky.
The child in you cries “Why?”

First love may be magic but true love isn’t.
At sixteen it’s perfect, it’s yes in an instant.
At thirty it’s reality, it’s no if you can’t.