Toy Story 4 is terrifying.

Posted on by Jk Andrew

Bloodthirsty werewolves, disemboweled undead, knife-wielding dolls, immortal serial killers, godlike devil clowns, sparkling vampires, and occasional in-laws. These are the typical visages horror films take up, with the plot usually revolving around fear of the monsters themselves. This trend is what the fourth entry in the Toy Story series attempted to break, and break it, oh it did so intimately, by surreptitiously portraying random ways the universe can break our spirits any time. Toy Story 4 grabbed fear itself and wrapped around it cute, colorful, and highly detailed images of childhood which resulted to the darkest “children’s” movie in recent memory.

Woody — the natural death of a purpose

There’s a snake in my boot…y 😉

Taking off from the soul crushing ending of the third installment, our beloved cowboy had his purpose “die” from no longer being Andy’s and “reborn” after becoming Bonnie’s. While his early times with Bonnie went well, everything changed in a flash! His would-have-been similar purpose as a child’s toy was radically changed after his ward slowly had a change of heart, effectively removing Woody’s supposed purpose in “life”. Without spoiling too much, this is one of the central plots of the film, if not the main one, although arguably the most forgiving of all the “spirit breakers”. Woody’s fate reminds us that no matter how hard we try, sometimes, things just won’t go our way and we have to learn to live with that.

Forky — forcing onto us, a “new purpose”

Imagine having everything in your life already set: born, grow, work, age, die. It’s a relatively “peaceful” life cycle. But what if in the middle of it, the hands of God strip you away from it all and re-brand you with a new purpose? The instinctive reaction is to be frightened, terrified, even. And terrified was what Forky, a spork-turned-toy by Bonnie the deity, did for a good amount of his screen time.

“I AM NOT A TOY. I WAS MADE FOR SOUP, SALAD, MAYBE CHILI. THEN THE TRASH. I’M LITTER! FREEDOM!”

This new purpose disturbed him so much, Forky kept trying to return to his old way of life by breaking free of Woody’s grasp and jumping onto a trash can, as an attempt to rebel against his fate. As the film progressed and after more Forky rebellions, our adorable spork finally understood, with the help of Woody, that it is useless to keep resisting and that he had to accept reality and be Bonnie’s warm heap of trash. If you know (the reference), you know (the reference).

Gabby Gabby — your great destiny can be swept away in one fell swoop

She was initially creepy as hell. We must agree in unison. Gabby’s petrifying shell shed as the film progressed, and we got to see her motives for her “heinous” actions. From the get go, she was made to be the perfect companion for young girls from an older generation. Slowly reread the previous sentence and let it sink in. The poor doll had one thing missing to live the life she desired. I contest the human equivalent to this is being a billionaire who discovered the fountain of youth and shared it with her family and loved ones. The most tragic part of Gabby’s “life” is how she witnessed it countless times without living it, which resulted to her committing questionable actions. Desperation summons our self-centered nature.

Bo-Peep & Forky — hope.

Chin up, cowboy!

While these three examples can bring our hopes down, broken spirits aren’t the only things that can spring from the wreck. Hope, a seemingly misplaced human necessity, sprang forth from the unlikeliest of heroes: Little Bo-Peep and Forky. After his initial setback, Forky finally out-wrestled his existential crisis and understood his role in Bonnie’s life: he was meant to be her trash can and make her feel warm, cozy, and safe. Bo-Peep, on the other hand, is an interesting case who deserves a separate piece on her own. She willingly broke free from her initial purpose and created one for herself. Her will was so sheer that it made Woody himself question his identity! This ultimately led to his departure as Woody, like Bo, now has a new purpose in life: to experience the life of “lost” toy.

It is true that the meaninglessness and uncertainties of the universe are horrifying, but we need not live in terror. The choice is up to us: we either succumb to fear of the unknown or overcome ourselves and effectively, everything else.

Nostalgia is an enemy.

Posted on by Jk Andrew

You’re on your way to work, walking by the usual concrete steps which greet the soles of your shoes every morning. Green Day pulsating in your earphones, you fail to notice that a new breakfast stall had just opened and the scent of sautéed onion and garlic wafted around your nostril, slowing your steps and closing your eyes as you inhaled. And just like that, what was supposed to be a usual walk-to-work routine was subverted. Instead of arriving in the office, you’ve gone back in time to a moment you cherish in the deep recesses of your heart. Nostalgia.

What is nostalgia?

Graciously let go the things of youth.

As defined by a credible source, Google identifies nostalgia as a sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations. The sweet summer anthems. Those crunchy orange leaves. That gentle afternoon breeze. These images are how I visualize nostalgia, and although everyone portrays it differently, one thing is certain, these evoke happy times we wish we can go back to. But for some, myself included, this quick walk at memory lane can turn into a long march which eventually “imprisons” us. Discontent, we end up longing for these favorable times almost as a last resort to escape the unpleasant realities we individually face. This is the pitfall of reminiscing.

Stop dreaming about the past.

It is perfectly understandable if you read this heading with resistance. After all, each of us have places, things, or even people we fondly look back to. Yet if you are like some who, on more than one occasion, were trapped in that blissful chamber of memories, chances are, you’re slowly coming to the realization that drowning one’s self in nostalgia is pointless as it changes absolutely nothing in the present. But if not, now you know.

There are many people suffering anxiety because of nostalgia, myself included, get anxious about the good times and how they are over or how we were praised by others for being bright, only to plateau from there and eventually stagnate into mediocrity. We surround ourselves with faded glories and past laughter to remind us that at one point, we were happy. This self-defeating mindset is a quicksand many of us unconsciously walk on and sink into.

Face it, tiger…

Terrifying as it is, the panacea exists in all of us. It is our will. We have to choose to stop dwelling in the past in order to escape the bonds we have created for ourselves. It is a constant struggle nottodwell in the past yet it is through constant practice that an artist excels in her craft. The seduction of nostalgia must be resisted, and instead, we must focus our attention to the present because it is only now that we can affect things for neither the past nor the future will ever be in our control. No matter how unpleasant our current circumstances are, we cannot escape our fates. So rather than rebel against what is, which ultimately does nothing, why not face our fates and possibly overcome challenges? Hold close to your hearts the words of Marcus Aurelius:

“The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”

Face reality and be.

Ancient remedies for modern anxieties

Posted on by Jk Andrew

Do our lives have meaning?

Anxiety is a word tossed around these days, for good reason. Many of us, if not all at some point, suffer from overthinking certain scenarios like it-could-have-beens (things that already happened) or what-could-bes (things that may or may not happen) resulting to an all too familiar case of anxiety. Regardless which, we can only agree that experiencing anxiety is not pleasurable. Our generation isn’t the first to experience such terrible thing. Centuries and even millennia-old people have grappled and eventually conquered anxieties from their respective eras, which fortunately withstood the test of time and are definitely applicable in our setting.

Meaningful or meaningless.

In an almost postmodern world, you ought to have encountered the question “is there meaning behind things” in one form or another. This question is inseparable to another: “is there a God” because if there IS, then most certainly there is also meaning behind things. Whether or not this god is omnipotent is for another time but for now, let us settle for He is. Since this God exists and has created everything, then everything that happens has a purpose for us to decipher and to learn from, which in turn, casts things in a web of cause and effect.

On the other, less friendly side of the spectrum is no deity. Then what, therefore, is the meaning of our existence? Why do we live? Who created us? The chain of questions goes on and on. This can either trap us in despair or empower us by deifying and bestowing to ourselves the ability to create meaning for everything that happens.

The best of you.

“Things won’t always go our way and that is okay! Give your best, and to fate, leave the rest.”

Regardless which, life happens with or without meaning and the only thing we can do is to act upon it. You can believe that the universe is on your side or that it is conspiring against you. Good and bad things happen to us, and if we desire a certain outcome then we must exert our best efforts to achieve it. We must remember, however, that doing our best is not an assurance that we will get that which we desire. Rather, it simply increases the odds that we do. We must understand that not everything is in our control and that we can only do so much. Things won’t always go our way and that is okay! Give your best, and to fate, leave the rest.

Amor Fati.

The Latin phrase for “love of fate”, Amor Fati is the attitude of fully embracing one’s situation or circumstance. Robert Greene tells us that:

“…the power that you can have in life of accepting your fate is so immense that it’s almost hard to fathom. You feel that everything happens for a purpose, and that it is up to you to make this purpose something positive and active.”

As we rationalize our fate, we will inevitably understand that it is ours alone and that the only reasonable thing to do is to embrace it. As absurd as it sounds (which it is), we have to realize that wishful thinking or despair changes nothing. The only appropriate response is embracing and acting on our fate, whatever it is.

Embrace and act on your fate. Work on your goals. If things don’t go the way you desire, then fine. If they do, then great. Be at peace in knowing that not everything is in your control. You’ll be fine.

Lessons I learned in her absence.

Posted on by Jk Andrew

None of us want to be alone. Not you, not I, not even introverts because there is a distinction between just wanting to spend time with one’s self and being alone. We all know the phrase by John Donne from his book of the same name:

“No man is an island.” Yet only a few know it continues “No one is self-sufficient; everyone relies on others.”

But this doesn’t change the reality that there are times when we will be alone, and for some, nothing is more excruciating than being forced to contemplate on the unpleasant realities of our meaningless existence; no one is there to distract us. And yes, while we are forced to look upon the uncaring abyss every now and then, there are good things that can be found in its indifference.

Her.

She was draped in black when I first saw her, as black as the abyss. Every subsequent night glowed brighter, bit by bit. Watt by watt. There was no reason nor rhyme in my daily routine save from the constant shuffling of feet and tapping of fingers on a keyboard, in hopes of getting a job to prolong my existence as long as I could. This was my first mistake. You never depend your happiness on anyone than yourself.

Nights grew hotter and more intimate up until that one morning when she gave me the meaning to one’s life: to be one with another. I was in bliss in the abyss. Reasonably comparable to someone with an addiction, I craved it. I craved that opium, that ultimate distraction from our pitiful lives, and she, for a while, gave it, sometimes without me having to ask for it.

Then, the unthinkable. Withdrawal. Unexplained withdrawal.

Getting in touch with my emotions.

As you can imagine, such circumstance would leave anyone a wreck for a time. To paint the picture more vividly, imagine suddenly losing the most important thing in everyone’s lives. Imagine losing your smartphone. Terrifying, isn’t it? I was exposed to the entire spectrum of emotions, most of which I was unaware existed. Going through all of them one excruciating eternity after another, I saw the most hideous sides of myself I was equally unaware of as the aforementioned spectrum, and it was in my hostile environment that I matured and understood myself more. All it took was the most unpleasant experience of my life. Easy.

Contemplating ugly scenarios that can become reality.

Igradually became at peace with her absence after being submerged from all sorts of feeling. Being human, I made sense of things that were happening which ultimately led in contemplating the worst scenarios, seeing how it’s pointless to ruminate the most pleasant ones since everything is winding down to atrophy and chaos. It was natural. And of course, in my lenses, the worst had already happened; anything consequent would mean less.

Picking up where I left off after I lost control.

Fortunately I stumbled on an ancient philosophy, an old remedy for modern pains not only I face: Stoicism. This philosophy acknowledges that not everything is under our control and that we should focus on things that are, like our minds, perceptions, attitudes, and behaviors or simply, the way we approach and react to things. Stoicism encourages us to sustain the flame of happiness despite raindrops of misfortune that can and will collide with us. In my case, such raindrop was the absence. Roman philosopher-king Marcus Aurelius said:

“The impediment to action advances action. What stands in the way becomes the way.”

What presents itself as an obstacle or misfortune is an opportunity to learn a new virtue say, understanding or patience. Because as one thing happens, we can only either complain and whine or accept and learn from it.

In my grief and sorrow, I denied myself the truth by clinging on the past instead of facing reality and moving on with my life. Having a taste of her was my breaking point. The tease. The absence. The unexplained changes. The mixed signals. They ruined me. I ruined me. I cannot lose control again because of what might happen to me. It was a mistake to think “Why happen to me? Out of all the people in this world, why me?”. This was and is a wrong attitude because from everyone else, why not you? The universe is indifferent and so should we be. This isn’t to encourage selfishness, rather, it is to encourage us to accept things as they happen because no other action makes sense.

In a world where people are becoming more and more sensitive to everything that breathes, the best course of action is to not react at everything life throws at us. Choose which ones you will dwell on and act accordingly.

“Choose not to be harmed and you won’t feel harmed. Don’t feel harmed and you haven’t been.” -Marcus Aurelius

Chasing solitude.

Posted on by Jk Andrew

The following is a long, up close and personal take on my life so far. And by “so far” I mean just this weekend. That being said, I made absolutely no attempts to make this appealing by conventional standards. Best of luck and thank you, reader.

Grandmothers are sick.

I visited my grandmother last Saturday. Friday night’s booze and hangovers tried to keep me on my bed the entire day but the thought of visiting the woman who raised me got me through. Also my best friend since elementary wanted to hangout and get drunk, so yeah, hit two bird with one stone that faithful Saturday. I entered our ancestral home, the one I grew up in, carrying a big paper bag stamped with a gigantic bee head and yelled “Naay!” (it means grandma) I pushed the door to one of our rooms and in it were my cousins and my aunt, circling my grandmother. “Kuya Jake!” (kuya means big brother), my youngest cousin greeted me with a smile. His smile was joined by the others when I said I bought burgers but warned them that the fried chicken were for grandmother and I. As the gods ate my offerings, I sat on the bedside, staring intently at my grandmother as my mind cannot grasp the reality it was facing: this isn’t the woman who raised me. The woman who raised me wakes up at 4 AM everyday to cook rice and food for us. The woman who raised me does the laundry and even irons our clothes even if we strictly “forbid” her. The woman who raised me was allergic to the idea of us bringing our lunch to school because the food won’t be warm by the time the clock strikes 11:40 AM (my old elementary school, which my younger cousins also now attend to, had an early lunchtime). She cooked for us and had a tricycle bring our food to school everyday. The woman who raised me often asks my auntie if we’re coming over for the weekend (I left our province for the city to continue my education) so she can cook my favorite sinigang na baboy and heat the food when we arrive. The woman I was blankly staring at can barely utter words. Almost instinctively, I laid my head down to her chest while gently caressing her arm. In response, she squeezed the skin of my right forearm as the words “masakit ya” (it hurts) escaped with her breath; she was vehemently against slapping or pinching as a form of disciplining ever since. She’d go in between my parents and I whenever they were reprimanding me for something I was definitely guilty of. As if losing breath, I sat straight up and gently told her I finally got her the 2-piece fried chicken she’s been asking me to buy. Being the eldest grandchild and the first one she raised, my heart can’t say no to her in the same way she never said no to me.

As I finished dinner and prepared to go to my best friend’s place, my dad crossed my mind. It was when I rode the tricycle I understood why. All those tears he struggled to keep inside whenever we visited my other grandmother, who suffered Alzheimer’s, began to make sense as the wheels of the vehicle started rolling. He, too, was well-acquianted with what I experienced last Saturday. The pain of undoing. The pain of seeing good people suffer for what seemed to be the equivalent of all the good they have done.

I lost my friends, and am losing my cousins.

If I were to be tattooed with a branding iron it would spell “desperate-to-find-a-tribe” because as far as I know, the moment I left my province for high school, I have been tribe-less, friendless, and whatever “less” you can come up with that involves friendship. Every circle I’ve entered and managed to be part of ultimately leaves me. Now I can count with my fingers the times I was blameless, but I guess for the most part, I am at fault. I tried hindering my weird habits and be normal but it didn’t work. I tried changing my personality to blend in with a certain crowd but it didn’t work. I went full-blown weird and didn’t hold back and…hey it worked! Worked. See, October last year, I found my tribe and I couldn’t be happier, plus you won’t believe where it all started: in a family gathering. YES, those usually awkward events where aunties seem to have scripted lines about your weight, your relationships, your plans for the future and when you’ll get married. THAT kind of gathering, except this one went off script. Instead of insulting me like how a “good” family gathering should, it went rogue and gave me the group of people I’ve always dreamed of: my cousins and relatives of the same age. What followed were months of bliss and contentment that I didn’t mind being jobless back then, yet as those days unfolded, the pessimist in me rose from the grave to nag…or so I thought.

He was right, my pessimistic side. Or was it I was right? In many ways, I knew this circle wouldn’t last. My dream of having “sophisticated” friends who didn’t shy away from the deeper questions in life disappeared without explanation. I’ll write about it some other, maybe.

My girl isn’t always there for me (she has more pressing priorities).

Don’t hate on her, she was my world and that was my mistake, it’s something that never should have been. If you are in love with someone right now then heed my warning: never put anyone on a pedestal and make your world revolve around him or her because the moment you do, everything you do will be about that person. You have to be you without depending on someone. This was the harshest lesson that I learned probably because I needed it.

Growing up having everything I needed and wanted, it was difficult to process someone saying no to me, directly or indirectly. Such was the case with my girlfriend who was born on the opposite side of the spectrum. I showered her with the attention, affection, love, and everything else that I expected would be done for me, except that didn’t happen and I either coped with it or throw tantrums and be dragged. Long story short, she isn’t always there and you can interpret it in anyway you want to. The acceptance and the understanding that she won’t always be there for me, regardless of how much I need her, made me more enduring and self-sufficient. It is a continuous, grueling, and sobering experience that I won’t have any other way.

With what’s happened and is happening in my life right now, am I crazy to assume that God wills my solitude? Am I wrong to think that He is preparing me for a life to be lived alone? As an only child who’s losing a pillar of his life, being constantly left by friends therefore having no intimate relationships or consistent shoulders to lean on to, I’d say it’s a fair assumption and is a foreshadowing of my life in the distant future.

Happy Independence Day! Are YOU free?

Posted on by Jk Andrew

Before you dismiss this article as another edgy attempt by some millennial, ask yourself the question: “Am I free?” Free not just in the sense that this land we call our country is unoccupied by foreign forces, but free in such a way that nothing hinders you from pursuing what you truly desire. I’m Gen Z, by the way. If you can look someone straight in the eye and utter “I am free”, then congratulations dear reader, you are free to click that close button. But if you weren’t able to, then this read is for you.

BREAK YOUR CHAINS.

Daenarys Targaryen, breaker of chains yadayada

Before we can move forward, we should make sure nothing is holding us back. This could be a memory of something tragic, a trauma, some sort of bad blood, or anything else that is inhibiting you. The following sentence will take a lot of guts to do but it needs to be said: Confront it. Face whatever it is that hinders you and make peace with it if you can. If that isn’t an option, then let it go, let it be, and be. The past is not always a beautiful thing to look at but it can only hurt you if you let it. I am not attempting to downplay the pain you are experiencing by claiming it will all be gone after you read this. No, this may take days, weeks, months, or years to do and even then you still have to remind yourself that the past is past and you can either move forward or be dragged by the present.

FILTER THE OPINIONS YOU DWELL ON.

“…being uncomfortable isn’t necessarily bad. It can be an indication that you are ready to grow and move forward”

Don’t listen to people who say “I don’t give a f*ck about what you or anyone else thinks” or “Cut off people who make you feel uncomfortable” because two things: One, it is impossible to not listen to other people’s opinions. People who say so are merely denying it. What you can do is choose which one you will take in and act on, say a criticism. You can to sulk because someone didn’t like what you did or you can interpret it as an opportunity to improve. Two, being uncomfortable isn’t necessarily bad. It can be an indication that you are ready to grow and move forward. What is growth without changing what you are accustomed to? After all, life wasn’t meant to be lived from one spot alone. You can do that but what’s living if you see and experience the same thing day after boring day.

DO YOU, BE YOU.

I think, therefore I am….not. That’s a different dude.

You’ve read this a hundred times, I know, but there’s a reason “you do you” and “be yourself” are so widespread on the internet and on social media. Because they are true. The philosopher Plato wrote in his Apology “The unexamined life is not worth living for a human being”. Examine and know the things you are passionate about and with all your will and effort, do what needs to be done to live the life you want, for it is only by doing what fulfills us can we say we are truly free.

4 Ways to Tame Wild Beasts (toxic clients)

Posted on by Jk Andrew

“Can you do this for free?” “May pahabol lang ako na minor changes” “Ay, gusto namin hindi masyadong hard sell…teka bakit walang shot na kita product at brand? Bakit ang konti lang?” We’ve all encountered such fantastic beasts once, twice, or maybe even everyday in our lives and dealing with them can be quite the challenge. Before you cave in and snap (and most likely lose your job afterwards), here are some tips to keep your head above water AND to stay employed!

BOUNDARIES, BOUNDARIES, BOUNDARIES.

In every blossoming relationship, you must set boundaries on what you or your significant other can do. The same goes with clients. Set limits with them such as your working hours, when you can or cannot respond to their emails/messages, why their last minute revisions simply can’t be executed, and the like. This way they will be pressed to give feedback on your work quicker and won’t expect replies to their messages during ungodly hours.

DON’T JUMP THE GUN.

“Review your message and rewrite it with a kinder tone without watering down your main point. It also helps to write it with guidance from the rest of your team!”

Toxic or heated conversations can be tempting to immediately reply to, but with time comes grace. Say there has been a severe miscommunication between your team and the client, although the urge to be indignant is strong (especially if you’re actually correct), jot down your reply on your notes then let the moment pass. Review your message and rewrite it with a kinder tone without watering down your main point. It also helps to write it with guidance from the rest of your team! They might have some insights on the matter than can help strengthen your point.

LEARN TO SAY NO.

A lot of problems arise from compromising and riding along with other people. While this isn’t necessarily wrong on its own, the situation differs when you’re talking to a client who’s known to ask for rather bizarre requests. If and when this happens, learn to say no or why that might not be a good idea, then explain. Clients are human, too, and given you’ve carefully explained your opinion on the matter, they could understand and change their minds. Or not. If they remain stubb–firm, then let it be and work on what you can still improve on. After all, they’re still your client.

STEP AWAY AND PLAY.

😉😉😉

If your client seems to like the thought of making things more difficult than they have to, go play. If they are really immovable (or can’t be reasoned with), acknowledge what they have to say then step back and cool off with a hobby of yours. It could be playing video games, watching an episode of your favorite series, or anything else that you like. Let your mind unwind for a bit and them jump back in and do what you have to.

Clients come in all shapes and sizes. Whether they actlike minotaurs, creatures with pitchforks, or the occasional angels (yes, there are some), at the end of the day, they are still your clients. Establish a relationship with them and observe how they work. Study them and speak in their language to get your point across. If all else fails, pray and play.

I’m Batman and she’s Joker. Yes, we coexist.

Posted on by Jk Andrew

Around 10 PM time last night, my girl and I were preparing for our weekly habit: arguing. It was a long day for both of us and what better way to top it off than with good ‘ol fashioned bickering. A typical night yesterday was, although I can’t say I’m a fan.

My girl she is a strong, independent woman literally in every sense. Born without any silver utensil in her mouth, she was raised unorthodox and fought her way to where she is now and I couldn’t be any prouder; she’s strong is where I’m getting at. Needless to say I—-nope not going to sing that…keep her in check. Ugh, had to do it. Needless to say she is a no non-sense person. She knows the value of things and is therefore practical. She’s mature beyond her years and she’s just turning 22 for Pete’s sake. While I on the other hand, was sucking a spoon, a fork, a panhandle, and for good measure, a damn knife when I was young. All silver, by the way. I was privileged and I didn’t realize the value of what I had (I still don’t but I’m working on it). All of these means she loves differently. Texting every 30 minutes isn’t her thing and neither is having a photo of us on social media. Knowwhatimsayin? I’m the opposite. I express my love in ways she doesn’t. Wouldn’t. Different love languages, what can we do right?

So what happens when you mix a privileged white (Asian) man and a strong, independent Asian woman? Or as my moon and stars puts it: an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Havoc. You get havoc. Our arguments spring from the littlest of things no thanks to our contrasting perspectives (I’m no idiot or spend-all-you-want type, btw. I’m decently smart) Whether it’s a photograph or the tone-of-your-voice-on-a-particular word-that-the-other-party-interpreted-as-sarcasm-therefore-offensive (that was a mouthful THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID), it’s a clown fiesta every time we fight and it’s excitingly tiresome. But my girl is everything to me even if I’m not hers because she has more pressing priorities. Our relationship is a difficult thing to manage, at least for me, but we weather the storm somehow.

You might be wondering “How do you handle your relationship if you don’t love each other eye-to-eye?“, “Is it even possible to love someone if you differ so much?“, “How do you do it?” Truth is, dear reader, I don’t know how. Ours is a continuous process of learning, of compromising, of hurt, of love. I can only help you insomuch that I have experienced and learned things myself. With that in mind, listen well.

Know her love language and yours, then find the middle ground.

Acts of service and quality time are my girl’s love languages…I think. If you’re somehow reading this, my love, you’re the first and last thought in my mind. And I’m sorry for not knowing your love language. Mine are physical touch, quality time, and words of affirmation. With quality time being our middle ground, that’s how we compromise and squeeze in a bit of the others along the way. Oh yes, and a whole lot of hugs and kisses. ❤

50-50 should NOT always be the only standard.

Perhaps it’s just me and a few others who assume that effort should always be split into equal halves. Is it an innate trait in our human nature I cannot determine but as far as I now know, we cannot put everything in a box. In a “50-50” shaped box. My closest friend whom I consider my sister said:

“Di always 50/50.
Madalas 80/20 60/40
70/30 90/10

But always a hundred.”

Translation: it’s not always 50/50, it’s often 80/20 60/40 70/30 90/10. But always a hundred. Let that last sentence ring and reflect on it.

Compromise but know when enough is enough.

Just like how a ship will not move in your desired direction without her entire crew working together, so is a relationship. You won’t get anywhere. Sooner or later, one or even both of you will drift away and call it quits. God I pray you won’t suffer that cuz it hurts like a moth*AS@#!@#$. You give, you take. She gives, she takes. This is simply a culmination of everything because love demands sacrifice and change. She likes Marugame and udon? Then we eat there every now and then. God bless me because I learned to love that restaurant. Those thick and chewy noodles give meaning to my life! But when the compromise draws too close for comfort say, she/he wants you to drop your religion and convert to his/hers or else you’d break up is where you draw the line. You don’t just ask someone to rid something intimate, something from the bosom of their being, more so to threaten them with your relationship! It’s like telling someone they are free to choose but the moment they disagree with you, they’re wrong and will be punished. You call that borderline psychotic and manipulative. A relationship should be nothing less than a home where both of you blossom into the persons you’re meant to be.

This is how my girl and I survive and endure each other. Shoot me a DM on messenger and let me know how you weather your relationships! Chin up and keep smiling! ❤

Love, lust, love. No more.

Posted on by Jk Andrew

Now you’re left in the dust….or was I the one left behind?

“Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy! Oh, ohh, ohh, ohhh” Sunflower played in the background as I wore my maroon shirt and slipped on my Cortez. It’s been five months now and you’re officially my longest one. How different things have become and how much changed between us, yet we’re still together. Those nights when we warmed each other up, the kisses we shared, the times we watched films in that place in 76th , and that time we were one all seemed like a vague memory to me. Treasures I possess but can never hold again as they’re being safely kept by the past. Remembering how we once were is bittersweet. It’s my daily dose of grounding myself to reality as it reminds me how reminiscing is pointless and that the only thing worth look forward to is the future which can become my present. Our present. You’re still the greatest thing that happened to me.

I can’t shake the feeling that you’ve changed. Back then you were so eager for me. You wanted me so bad I felt your desire transcend distances to reach me. Now I barely feel anything. All that’s left is a hollow shell of what used to be. I asked why, you gave nothing and it’s eating me inside. Maybe it’s just the way things go. Honeymoon phase is over and we have to get back to reality. That dose of bliss was nirvana and the hallucination is over. “We not kids anymore” and it’s true. That void you left with all those unanswered questions is growing each day and it’s eating me slowly, though I’m learning to ignore it. But goddammit it hurts. Marcus, help me I cannot stop stabbing myself with the past! Bound me and break my arms fuck it all I cannot stop.

*Ping*, it’s you. “We really need to be smart with our choices“, you said. You’re right, we need to be smart. How you reminded me that you can and will leave me if I don’t “get my act straight” snaps me back from my night terrors because it’s a fate altogether more horrifying than any other beast or behemoth running rampant in my mind. But how will I get my act straight if everything I do is for you? You’re the only path I want to travel. Yours are the only arms I want to be enveloped with. Your eyes are the stars I want in my sky. Your smile is the only escape I want to run to. Your voice, the only tune I want to hear for eternities. Your tongue the only taste I will never get tired of, the only hing I want to be smothered and be choked by. Your warmth is the only thing I want to weather. Your body is the only one I want touch and to be one with. You. It will always be you…I think.

“We’ll see where and how far this road is taking us“, I whispered to someone in the train as I stepped out.

Will you get stabbed twice?

Posted on by Jk Andrew

I hold myself back, in my mind. I hold back my mental arms, restraining myself from spiralling down into self-loathing. I fail. I fail like I often do. This torrent of emotions sweep me away like a log during a flood; I can do nothing. I am helpless as these things, these demons run amok and rampage through my soul causing damage unrepairable. I’m bewildered. I’m confused. I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m ugh.

Is it really just in the past, Rafiki?

Why do I find it so hard not do dwell on the past? I know what Rafiki said “The past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either run from it or learn from it.” But what would you do if the past keeps haunting you, as if begging you to dwell on it? Imagine someone stabbed you with a knife and your willpower (imagine them as your hands) is the only thing preventing that someone from shanking you again. That is how not dwelling on the past feels like, and every time I get shanked more than once.

Of all the things God made, this is what I question most. These emotions, these feelings. I mean, why? Why even curse us with them? Are they just crosses for us to carry through this life? Are they another means for sanctification? Are they something we must conquer? But…what if we don’t? What if we can’t? What if they finally outweigh and ultimately crush us, our spirits? What if we become tired of carrying them? What if we fail to be sanctified by them? What if they conquer us? What does one do? What do I do? I am at the last vestige of reason and patience with myself. The philosophers promised me that the mind conquers the emotions but it didn’t. Slowly but surely I am being devoured by these things that fester and feast on my soul. I know no longer what to do.