An entry about not caring

This blog entry is about not caring.

Not caring about what I write, whether I write it correctly, or whether I get my point across.

My insecurities have held me back for so long, I don’t even remember who I am and who I want to be.

This is my attempt at silencing – or at least ignoring – the voices inside my head saying I’m not good enough. The voices that tell me to stop because no one will listen. The voices that say I will never amount to anything.

Because the truth is, I have been a mess. I am desperate to fill a void in my life but I realized just how out of touch I have been with myself and with reality that I do not know where to begin fixing things.

There are too many drafts and thoughts I have not published nor spoken out loud because I chose to be safe, complacent, nothing.

I have become nothing. I am alone, lonely and pathetic. And I want to stop caring about what people think, about what I think is ideal, I just want to be.

So, here goes my first entry in a while. No looking back, no editing… an emotion-filled entry I would probably regret and would make no sense to anyone.

But hopefully it will make sense to me.


DIY Singapore 4D3N

Most people don’t usually peg me as the traveling type as I am neither loud nor adventurous but alas – I have the travel bug. In hindsight I’ve caught it growing up because my father took us to various places around the Philippines, especially Mindanao.

I grew up reserved, sociable enough to be polite but very careful with whom I associated myself with and often preferred my own thoughts as company.

Faith, my friend from diapers, is the same way. We’ve traveled many times together in school trips, family outings, vacations sponsored by our godmothers (we share 2 godmothers) but never by ourselves.

So when I told my family about the impulsive decision I made with Faith, their first reactions were:  Continue reading “DIY Singapore 4D3N”

I have no idea what I’m doing

I’m nearly turning 21 and still have no night routine, or morning routine or any kind of beauty routine, to be honest.

This fact does not make me feel superior over beauty-conscious women, nor do I feel inferior either…I guess it’s just how I’m wired. Continue reading “I have no idea what I’m doing”