Oddly Satisfying

Cheers to Sunday!

Cheers to Sunday!

I was plannng to post this early in the morning. WordPress refused to cooperate. A good thing too! I wouldn’t have been able to do anything of it did.

This day has been satisfying. I woke up early and watched a movie, ate breakfast and gulped a whole pitcher of iced tea. Then, I downloaded two movies, watched one and proceeded to clean up the whole bedroom.

I am a very lazy person and when it comes to cleaning my bedroom, it takes a threat to get me started. So me just going ahead and cleaning up without being threatened is a miracle in itself. I havebeen plotting the whole thig for days, looking for the best strategy to make the place look like a woman lives there. Well, I cleaned it up and I think that is good enough. I almost broke my back rearranging everything and was thinking of just going to sleep but the fact that I already turned the place upside down forced me to finish what i started. I ended up cleaning the bathroom and washing sone shirs too!

Today was a tiring day but very satisfying. I didn’t realize my bedroom has sooo much space and sooo much garbage. so cheers to that!

I hope you had an enjoying weekend. Happy sunday everyone!

I Don’t Have A Heart.

I’ve lost my heart a long time ago. I don’t have most of it anymore. I broke it into pieces and gave it away.

Funny but I noticed that the more I give away the pieces, the bigger it seemed to get. I mean, I’ve given away so much but I still have some pieces left. I always have pieces left. It makes me wonder how many million pieces it broke into.

Five years ago I left a part of my heart somewhere in Region XI. I lived for years with only part of my heart until two years ago when I “accidentally” left a huge chunk somewhere in the cold mountains of northern Luzon. Now I’m not sure where most of it are but I think I left it somewhere around here…

Looks familiar?

Looks familiar?

It’s a place known for this…

Via Blackberry.

Via Blackberry.

.

Over the years, as I slowly give pieces of my heart away I realized something. When you give out pieces of your heart, it doesn’t make it broken or less of a heart. In fact, the more pieces you give away the bigger it seemed to get. I’m not sure how this works but I don’t think this follows any scientific principles. It’s probably math right? I don’t understand math that much and only math gives me this queasy, nauseous feeling and this feels like math to me.

So now my heart is everywhere. Blown by the very same wind that brought me to the places I have loved without reserve and to the people who got some of the pieces although I distinctly remember not giving them any.

PMA Silent Drill 02.2014. *nope, this is not the one we’re talking about.*

PMA Silent Drill 02.2014.
*nope, this is not the one we’re talking about.*

My heart is gone. It now belongs to the world. It belong to the places I’ve been to and the people I met along the way. Or at least most of it. I still have some pieces left, would you like one?

Where My Heart Is

I’m not a city girl and will probably never be one. This is something I have always known. The city and I coexist to benefit each other but ours is a relationship that will never get past the friendzone. Just friends with benefits, so they say.

My heart belongs to the mountain. It belongs to every slope, rock and hill that I must overcome to get to the top.
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I am not a mountaineer though I wish I have the stamina and strength to be one. I grew up with asthma and so my physical activities has always been limited. The mountain represents a lot of things for me. It stands for the many things I wish I could do; run marathons, climb the highest mountains, etc. It represents the challenge that I must face in my life.

The trek is always difficult but I like pushing myself. The long hours under the sun and the pain in my legs are worth it once I get to the end of the trek.
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When you get to the top and you look back to the trail behind you, you feel a sudden rush. All the difficult trails and the pain of climbing up and down the slopes disappear when you get there. The sense of accomplishment is something that no amount of money could buy. The feeling that you accomplished something by force of will, it is empowering.

I am cursed to live in a city and slave behind a computer. When I look out the window every day I see the mountains beckoning to me, calling me to explore. Every day the mountain calls for me and everyday I pretend not to hear its call. But some days, some days I just can’t ignore it and this happens…

Osmena Peak

Osmena Peak

You are Special!

Isn’t it?

Isn’t it?

Don’t ever think for a second that your existence is a result of some bizarre cosmic accident. Don’t ever think that you are a waste of space. Don’t think that you don’t matter because no matter who you are, there is at least one person out there who believes that you are special.

You don’t need the whole world to validate your existence. You exist and the world will just have to deal with it regardless if it wants to or not. You don’t need a billion people to be happy. As long as there is one person who loves you unconditionally and believes in you, that is enough.

You have to know your worth before you demand for others to see it. You have to find your own happiness instead of waiting for someone to give it to you. People wiser than us says that we cannot please everyone. They are right. You can’t change that. So don’t pretend to be something else. No matter what you do, people will either like you or hate you. Accept who you are, everything about you whether it be good or bad. Change the bad and keep the good. And don’t forget to be happy.

Life is special. Life is a gift. You are a gift. You are a unique individual capable of so many things. Find your happiness.

The Chill Life @ Cafe Caw

May 18, 2014 started the same way normal day starts. There was nothing in the air or the rare cloud in the sky to indicate that bizarre things are about to happen. For one, it was a Sunday and the only thing remotely entertaining that happens on a Sunday is church service. Everything was going as normal as expected until my friend came out of her bedroom, joined me for breakfast, hatched a plan to travel in the next few months and convinced me to go out and try these cafes she’s heard of.

So we spent two hours sipping frapuccino at Cafe Tiala when I remembered that I did plan to go to Fort San Pedro to try and take photos. We decided to go there, not thinking it was midday and spent at least an hour doing our best not to faint from the sweltering summer heat. I don’t know where you are but summer here is unforgiving. When we can no longer take it, we decided to look for this Cafe Namu (not sure how it’s spelt) which she said was in Lahug. We didn’tfind it but what we did find is Cafe Caw and its Mac N’ Cheese burger that I would brave the heat for.

Where the magic happens!

Where the magic happens!

Unlike Cafe Tiala with its princess-themed rooms, Cafe Caw has more of a chic look to it. Its mismatched chairs and living room look makes it feel cozy and comfortable. While Cafe Tiala brings out the child in every girl, Cafe Caw brings out the woman in every child. Or at least that is how it felt. They have the urban, artsy kind of feel suited for their mostly young adult clientel.

It doesn’t hurt that their food is so good. Their fries alone is enough to entice me to go back. Add their Mac n’ Cheese and I’m in love.

Heaven on a plate.

Heaven on a plate.

This!

This!

Having spent the whole morning with a Frap, we choose these cold drinks instead…

Cotton candy

Cotton candy

My friend ordered this and i don’t know what this is.

My friend ordered this and i don’t know what this is.

We spent at least over 2hrs sitting there, talking, laughing, enjoying the music and basically just chilling. We spend sleepless nights working, I think we deserve that break.

Who would have thought that a normal boring Sunday would turn out like this? We practically spent the whole day outside, battling the heat, literally hopping from one cafe to another. Oh, did I also mention that we capped the day by going to Tops Skyline and enjoyed this view:
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So, how did you spend your weekend?

Do you believe in ghosts?

A disembodied voice whispering in your ears, cries of agony, laughter so cold it brings chills down to your spine. Or perhaps, a sudden apparition? A child or a lady suddenly appearing and then vanishing into thin air. We all have these stories. Did we imagine them? Perhaps. Who knows? There are things in this world our mind can’t simply process or understand.

The Philippines has a lot of ghost stories. Wherever you go and whoever you ask, there is always a tale of horror waiting to be told. This is particularly true for Baguio City. In my opinion, this place is teeming with haunted places and horror stories owing no doubt to its rich history.

Of all these haunted places, one particularly stands out. The Diplomat Hotel. Located in Dominican Hill, the abandoned hotel sits at the very end of the road like a forbidden prize at the end of the maze.

02/26/14. Known as the most haunted building in Baguio City...The Diplomat is as creepy as haunted buildings go. *photo taken using blackberry*

02/26/14. Known as the most haunted building in Baguio City…The Diplomat is as creepy as haunted buildings go.
*photo taken using blackberry*

Like most decrepit and abandoned buildings, Diplomat has an eerie, creepy vibe to it. Entering its grounds is like crossing an invisible threshold that divides the past and the present, reality and legends. The air inside feels heavy perhaps it’s the supernatural or, i’d like to think, that it is heavy with the stories of its past (i prefer the latter, i’m a scaredy cat).

Before it became a famous haunted and abandoned building, Diplomat was first known as a famous haunted hotel. The place was initially built in 1913 to 1915 as a vacation house for the Dominicans, hence the cross.

Because a hotel with a cross is not creepy enough, it has to be abandoned too.

Because a hotel with a cross is not creepy enough, it has to be abandoned too.

According to all online articles I can find of the place, it became a refuge for japanese forces during the war and later it was bought by a businessman and converted into a hotel. Of course, as any building in this country with a history that includes “it was used by the japanese during the war”, Diplomat lived up to expectations by scaring staff and guests alike with supernatural visitors and the anguished cries of the lost souls.

I refuse to loom at this photo for more than a minute.

I refuse to look at this photo for more than a minute.

Even before the hotel was abandoned, ghost stories already thrive in this place. It doesn’t help of course that Baguio as a whole seemed to have more ghost stories than any other place that I know of in this country. The hotel was later abandoned after the owner died.

The Diplomat is a creepy place. Perhaps because when you go there your mind is already conditioned to fear. I don’t know. The place feels different. It doesn’t have the feel of an old abandoned place. The place feels full, suffocating even. At times, it feels like someone is dropping cold water on your spine.

It is a building full of stories. Tales of people who have lived and died not so long ago. The walls, a mute witness to whatever happened in the past. I think of the Diplomat, as I think of other old buildings, as more than just a structure. I think of it as a piece of history. People lived there, each with their own tales of love, hope, fear, and perhaps even tales of horror. They lived during the war afterall. They have seen horrors we can only imagine.

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If ghosts are real, then perhaps they just want to tell their stories.