Posted in ESSAYS

The Night I Stopped Saying, “Good Night”

Isn’t it cute to always hear a little girl saying, “Good night, ma.” or “Good night, dad.”?

Believe me or not, I used to be a cute little girl who always bid my parents, ‘Good night’. I do that every, single, night… and then I stopped.

When I stopped, I am not a cute little girl anymore. I ended up crying at night silently, and sob a little harder every time I hear my younger sister say good night to my parents and gets a response. I remember at that time, I asked myself, “Why does she get a response while I don’t?”

You see, there’s jjust me and my sister, but as a kid, I can’t help but wonder why can they provide a response to my sister and no simple reply for me? And so, I decided to stop, thinking, “If they don’t want to greet me ‘good night’, then no more ‘good nights’.”

I did not hate my sister for that. It’s not her fault that she’s more likeable, sociable and charming. Besides, that’s always been the role of the youngest in the family. While I, as the eldest, should always be the responsible one and the open-minded one. But, there always come a time that the openness of our mind, no matter how vast, always reaches its limits. And when it do, we become curious and so, we raise questions. And if we don’t get answers, we get upset.

Every time I think of my younger self at that time, I feel upset, I feel like crying. I pity myself because I know, most of the time that I say  ‘Good night’, I know they can hear me.  It’s just that, they do not listen.

Good nights were replaced by sobs at night. One night, I did not know that my mom sneaked in into our room and caught me crying silently. I can’t remember anymore how I opened up about how I feel about my parents. All I can remember were the long sobs, heavy breathing and tears rolling down from my eyes. My mom and dad apologized and promised to greet me back next time and never miss it again.

After the long talk, we finally go to bed having a lighter heart that night.

The next evening, I told myself, “Let’s try.”

“Good night, Ma.”

Ma answered quicker than the quick brown fox, “Good night”.

“Good night, Dad.”

……. ( because he was watching T.V. and was not paying attention again. )

“DAD!” my mom whispered in a hissing voice.

I turned my back from him looking at our bedroom door and I didn’t care anymore if he’ll say it back or not and make another excuse for it.

“Ay! Good night. I’m watching the T.V.”

No. I did not looked back to him. To me, that’s over. No more.

As I walked toward our bed, I can hear my mom scolding my dad in a low voice again.

I slept, with fewwer tears that night telling myself, “It’s never enough.” then, fell asleep.

Nights have passed, and it’s only my sister who greets them ‘good night’.

Maybe my mom noticed that I don’t say ‘good night’  to them anymore. So, she initiates greeting me then. I always politely greet her back ‘good night’. But I already got tired trying to be noticed. And so, greeting ‘good night’ has finally come to an end.

Since then, GOOD NIGHTS never came from me anymore.

Posted in THOUGHTS

Imagined Words

Some things are better left in our heads. Whenever there’s an attempt of saying it out loud or writing it out, it never comes out right. I’d like to call those as imagined words.

Suppressed feelings and overflowing happiness, can never be described in just one word. I’d like to ask some help from a dictionary or a thesaurus but seemed like nothing would match the extremeties of the least and the greatest.

No matter how I describe, no matter how I do sign language, I just can’t say what’s going on in my head. What’s even worse, is if I’m already ready to give my heart to someone I would call my better half, would “mine” be right thing to call you mine?

Those imagined words, that were never meant to be spoken. Never meant to be uttered nor to be murmured, or even to be written by the most lovely hands in the world. I’d like to keep them here, here inside the innermost part of my head. Though I still want to say things to you, there’ll be no way of saying it as long as it remains imagined words.

Posted in THOUGHTS

Tangled Thoughts

Tonight, I can’t seem to resolve a lot of things in my head. The only thing it’s prompting me to do right now is to write. Write things I’m not suppose to publish. Things that are not supposed to be shared for a wider audience. 

Things like these don’t need sympathy. But, I just can’t fight the urge to post it. 

My head’s spinning. Unsure, always confused of what to do. Too afraid to take risks and too brave to dream so high even though I’ll end up falling. Even my sentences, my words, my thoughts right now in this writing doesn’t have cohesion. 

My feelings are unresolved.. trying to point at someone to blame for my weary feelings and odd actions.  

Confusing it is. The roads of my thoughts are intertwined. 

I hope as I sleep tonight, I wake up at the sight of an unconfused aura of me standing in front of the mirror. Slowly, picking up the pieces of me that once had been torned by no one but me. Hopefully I stop blaming others for my misfortune and be responsible of my actions.

I hope, I would. Good night.

Posted in ESSAYS

5 Common Agonies of a Nocturnal Writer

Grabbed from

Common advice for those who aspire to become a writer is to write down ideas that pop into their head immediately on a paper before it’s too late.

That is exactly what I’m doing right now. It’s already 10:43 P.M. on my clock (Manila Time). My weekday call time is 7:20 A.M. That means, I need to be up as early as five or five thirty in the morning and here I am: still up facing my computer.

To be honest, I am one of those who counts the amount of sleep I’ll get before I completely shut my eyes. And this is one of my agonies as a nocturnal writer.

Here are FIVE common agonies you might experience if you’re a nocturnal writer like me:

  1. Sleep Deprivation You sleep late and wake up early. Health authorities often remind us to get some sleep as much as 7 to 8 hours Every.Single.Night. If your normal sleeping hours only ranges from 5 to 6 hours (because you sleep at twelve midnight and wakes up five in the morning), good luck to your brain cells.
  2. Insomnia Because we are so afraid of the health risks of sleep deprivation, we are trying to train our body clock. Lights off by 9:30 P.M. then lie on your bed. But your eyes just don’t seem to shut. The next thing you’ll know, it’s already two in the morning and you’re still wide awake thinking of things that you could have already put on the paper.
  3. Haggard Face Let’s start with the baggy eyes. Then with the chapped lips. Next, the dry skin. Lastly the gradual sagging of the face. In short, you look like a melting Olaf.
  4. Blank-Headed on Midday Your body is sending you signals that you need to sleep or at least take a nap. But even if you take a power nap, seems like ideas wouldn’t just want to get into your head feeling, well, blank.
  5. The Urge to Write It’s already late and your body wants some rest but your brain is tempted when it sees a pencil and a paper or an open computer. Then, ideas start to rush again as if it has been recharged throughout the day. The next you’ll know, you’re just repeating the cycle over and over again.

We can’t refrain from ideas popping at night. It is also true that thinking and writing at night is a hard habit to break for nocturnal writers. There’s nothing bad in writing at night or at any time of the day. But I think, as one of those nocturnal writers, we need to discipline ourselves and train our brains to have a specific time for writing. If this can be done, I guess we can take  care of our health better and can also become wise time managers.



Posted in ESSAYS

Did It Mean Anything?

How can a simple touch be quite disturbing in a good way?

Just this morning, I was busy reading and analyzing some sort of things in the library. Just the usual setup where I usually sit, with the librarian and with the same people I usually hang out with at the same hour everyday because we have our same break time period.

Minutes away before our break ends, we were exchanging jokes. I actually forgot what we were joking about earlier. I cracked one which they actually buy while I was busy doing something else. Then, out of nowhere, this guy I am actually always with, touched the tip of my ear. Well, that grabbed my attention. I looked up to him and he was looking. I looked back down again and went on to what I was doing earlier. I was trying to comprehend what it meant.

And so the bell rang. Everyone of us were starting to gather our things to go back to our classrooms. I went ahead of them. While walking at the pathway, I touched the tip of my ear where he touched it, still wondering what was that for.

I actually just met this guy around May this year. He’s a newbie in our school. And so, as we received our class assignment, he was assigned with the same grade level as mine. Since this grade level only have two sections, we both have no choice but to work together most of the time. So he’s sort of like an apprentice but already doing the job. Most of the time we talk about things and eventually became friends now.Other than that, there was nothing else. 

This guy is actually good looking. He’s a fair complexion, lean and well-groomed. Plus, he’s taller than me. Well if you could picture him out, he totally looks fine. Other than being friends, I can’t see him more than that. Maybe as a younger brother since I am a year older than him. 

I honestly think he also looks at me the same way. Now, what I can’t understand is his gesture earlier. Is it me who’s just overthinking about this ( which most girls do, overthinking small stuff) or something else?

But I have to be honest. When I got back to my room, I touched it again. I thought to my self, “Why does it feel nice?”

It’s not lust but I have never imagined that a simple touch would feel good. But, is it really the touch? Or the gesture? 

Do you know the saddest love story ever told?

Hearing the greatest love story from an old couple, only to find out one of them has to finally let go because death is inevitable.

Death is Inevitable

Posted in BOOKS

Not Another YA Book

BOOK CHALLENGE #13: Choose a book with a great first line.

One afternoon, I was all drained of all the papers that I need to face on my carrel. I was looking for an escape inside our library and I ended up picking up this book.


It’s about a 17-year-old girl who was only four minutes late missing her flight to London for her father’s wedding day. She has never imagined that getting late for four minutes will make a big change in her life.

While waiting for the next flight to London, she bumped into a handsome stranger in the airport with a British accent. This stranger happened to have the same row seat with her in the plane.

During the trip, the two shared some of their deepest thoughts. Actually, it’s the girl who has shared more than the boy. Nevertheless, both were surprised to learn that they have easily loosened up with each other.

When they reached the airport, they shared a kiss and went on their separate ways.

The girl almost did not make it to her dad’s wedding. Luckily, the bridesmaids were on standby to help her fix. During the ceremony, she was just thinking of all that has happened to her family and how her dad ended up falling out of love with her mom.

On the other hand, the guy she met on the plane was also facing a different family affair.

After the ceremony in both sides, life took its course and led them to meet again. It wasn’t as lovey-dovey like the way they first met. And so the second time they met, they went separate ways again.

At the end of the story, both had some realizations about the turn of events in their family lives and met again.


I must admit. The first chapters were really promising. Even the prolog. Just imagine someone asking you this question, “How can four minutes change your life?” Wouldn’t you get intrigued too? Ohhh…. If only four minutes will lead me to the man of my dreams. Isn’t that exciting?

I loved it from there to the part when they were talking about things in their lives, whether it’s funny or dramatic. The characters are realistic. Just imagine talking to a stranger on a long trip and finding yourself loosening up to them easily, right? I think that’s what everyone wants. Sharing a ride in a public transport and making friends. In the case of the characters, they got attracted to each other immediately.

However, I lost my attachment to the story when they parted ways at the airport. Not because it wasn’t realistic. Of course, it was! There are just two parts that I don’t find realistic. First, when she went out to look for this guy. And second, when the guy showed up in the reception and went on dancing with her ON THE SAME DAY of his father’s funeral.

Yeah, these things may happen. I’m just not convinced on how the characters were moving from one place to another. There might have been other ways to do it.

Another thing that wasn’t so clear is the issue about her dad and mom ending up having a divorce. Okay, maybe I’m just not a fan of divorce (though it’s rampant nowadays). I just can’t help asking why her father broke up with her mom.

I think, I put myself too much into her shoes that I would also like to share the decision-making with her in ruining her father’s wedding.

The ending of this story is not satisfying for me.

So far, almost all the YA books that I have read have an unsatisfying middle and ending parts. The only one that I find interesting from cover to cover is, “The Fault in Our Stars”.

I hope the next time I pull out a YA book from the shelf, I won’t end up saying, “Not another YA book!” after reading it.

STARS: 2/5