During my English Critical Thinking Class in college, Professor Mendez, my English teacher, handed each student a list of thoughts or statements written by other students then gave us a creative writing and critical thinking assignment based on one of those thoughts. At 19, I was beginning to wonder about many things, so I chose the statement, " WHY? I wonder why things are the way they are?"



That night, I sat staring at the paper. I wrote down in the form of a story all the questions that puzzled me about life. I brainstormed every nooks and cranny. I realized that many of them were hard to answer. In fact, too difficult to contemplate as I dug my brains out. And perhaps others couldn't be answered at all. There's just none. Even if I searched the encyclopedia or googled my way through it.



When I turned in my complicated paper, I was afraid that I might fail the assignment because I had not answered the question, "WHY? I wonder why things are the way they are?" I had no answers. I had only written questions.



The next day, Professor Mendez, called me to the front of the class and asked me to read my story for the other students. He handed me my paper. And he sat down in the back of the room. The class became quiet as I began to read my story.And I was nervous as I hated speaking in public.



Mama, Papa.....Why?

Mama, why are the roses red?

Papa, why is the grass green and the sky blue?

Why does a spider have a web and not a house?

Mama, why do I need to read my notebooks cover to cover?



Papa, why can't I play with my friends after lunch?

Mama, why do I have to read and NOT watch TV?

Mama, why can't I go to the dance?

Papa, why can't I stay out until 12:00? The other kids can.

Papa, why do I have to learn all these house chores again?



Papa, why don't the boys like me?

Why do I have to be so chubby?

Why do I have to be so brave and be tough?

Why do I have to learn to mature??



Mama, why do I have to graduate?

Papa, why do I have to learn too much?

Mama, why did you to go abroad and have to leave?

Mama, why don't you write more often?Or call me every day at least?

Papa, why do I need to memorize these tasks and recipes by heart?



Papa, why do I miss my old friends?

Papa, why do you love me so much?

Papa, why do you spoil me? Your little girl is growing up.

Mom, why don't you visit?I miss you teaching me.



Mama, why is it hard to leave Philippines and make new friends?

Mama, why do I miss my old country?

Papa, why does my heart skip a beat when that boy looks in my eyes?

Papa, , why do my legs tremble when I hear his voice?



Why is being "in love" the greatest feeling in the world?

Why do I wait for his call?

Why do I miss him?

Why do I feel that day?



Boy, why do they have to leave?

Boy, why do you make me fall and then leave?

Lord, why do you make go though all these?

Lord, why make me happy and make me sad?



Why does my face show every smile that I have ever given to a friend or a stranger?

Why do older people's hair glisten a shiny silver?

Why does Papa's hands quiver when he bends to pick up something?

Why does Mama's skin show memories from her wrinkles?



Why, God, are the roses red?

Why, Lord are the grass are green and the sky is blue?

Why the rainbows come in all hues?

Why the sun shines at the dawn?

Why?

Why? Oh Why?



At the conclusion of my story, my eyes locked with Professor Mendez's eyes. In his fogged up, thick glasses, I stared at him. And all I saw was a small peck of tear slowly sliding down his cheek. He wiped it so quickly and so instantly as if I never noticed it. But I did. I stayed quiet. I stared down and went back to my seat shyly.



I just sat there. Puzzled. Confused whether I passed or fail. A week after, I got the paper back. With a marked red ink on the front page that printed, "A+." And a note in the back of my paper, "Eloquent,,contemplative.very touching, very inspring. As a professor, papers like these are the reason why I became an English professor. Thank you. [ Signed.] E. Mendez." He also gave me an A for the semester and a letter of recommendation for the Dean's Scholarship and for the acceptance letter for the higheest recommendation for the top universities and their Nursing programs.



I sat there again. But in awe, this time. I smiled in silent. "Why?" I still asked. I wish I can ask him. But I did not have the guts to do it. Why? Never mind. It was then that I realized that life is not always based on the answers we receive, but also on the questions that we ask.

posted by pinay freestyle @ 9:01 AM [[ 0 comments ]]

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In my fattest, I was comfortable in my own skin despite the negative feedback  I've heard. Yes, those were esteem damaging but I brushed it all off. Most of the time, I ignored as if I didn't hear. But I am also human and it was hurtful, nonetheless.
 I always thought I was more than the physical of my body.  I had substance: perhaps, a little wit, but even more, I was equipped with a big heart, a fighting spirit & a relentless faith in God. 

Losing weight & in my tinniest, I still find it difficult to accept the ravishing and flattering compliments. But I'm learning. I need to constantly remind myself that shouldn't forget the old, thick me. The individual who stood out in a crowd because she has an awesome sense of humor that made everyone giggling abs laughing in their seats with her client self. The genuine one who might be tough on the outside but if you peeled her onion skin, she has a gentle heart of a giant. 

Truth is, she's been there. She's still there. But now, that persona others failed to notice, the crowd finally saw she has a pretty face and an awesome body. 

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You were the only man I took to face God. On our first date, I took you to church and we bended our knee and said our prayers. You asked me what did I pray for then. I didn't answer you. I blurted a smile. But I said thank you to God for giving you to me. But the unsaid part was, I hope you are the man I will soon take to Him again to marry.

But life has taken everything away from me. Inluding you, God took the two most important man I love. I don't know the reason. I can not have explations. I wish I did. But I don't.

All are left are broken hearts. All that is left are tears to cry. I don't know what to do my heart. It will be numb again. It will be put back to the freezer and no one can ever melt this icy heart again.

I took the risk to love you and be with you four years ago because I was thinking you are 'the one.' Because I thought you are worthied. I didn't want to love again before. But you made me love you.

But now you have given up on love. You have given up on me. What's the use of me fighting for the love I feel for you when you have given up on me? While I will fight for what I feel for you until the last of my breath, you stopped holding my hand. You stopped the beating of my heart.

Where do I go from here? I don't know. I thought our story was to be continued. While I was hoping to wrtie more chapters, you already put our conclusions. I still don't understand. I will never understand.

But I will respect your decision. I will go away. I will leave. I will give you the ending you wanted. Not because I wanted to do it. But because this is what you wanted. I love you too much to hold you back from leaving me. This is love...letting you go because you wanted to.

This is the end, huh? This is our ending. And all I could say is I'm sorry. For the last time, I love you. Goodbye. I'll see you in my dreams

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Status today: I'm trying to be more splendid and more extraordinary. I am using each enchanting second of this life to fill up myself up to the brim. Truth is, I have NOT change. I have just become MORE of myself. That is my lifetime goal: become more of myself to serve others.

Yesterday: I am not built to shrink down smaller into less. I am created to blossom into more. And I am going to let my light shine. Let it shine from WITHIN me first, so it can shine someone else's later. Life has taught me what we give comes back to us. In time, I know the blessings will bounce back its way to me. So help me, God.

The day before: I just realized whether it's my preference or not, LIFE has its own course of path. No matter how much I go against the norm, it will naturally travel its choice of route. Therefore, I don't need a GPS nor a map. I just gott'a roll with the punches, see and savor where the mysterious journey takes me.

July 2nd, 2011:Amidst life's gloomy days, I appreciate the brightness of sunny days. That children bible song I used to sing when I was a kid from Lamentations 3:22-23 comes to mind, "The steadfast LOVE of the LORD NEVER CEASES. His mercies NEVER come to an end. They are NEW every morning, NEW every morning.GREAT is Your faiithfulness."

If you can onl read between the lines. These are the stories of my life.

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I wish I can write it here...
All the rollercoaster of emotions...
All the absence of symptoms...
All the mixture of pain and joy...
All the aches of a loss...

I wish...
But I can't...

There are no words descriptive enough to describe it.
There are no images clear enough to showcase it.
There are no conclusions concrete enough to explain it.
There are no numbers accurate enough to sum it.
There are no scientific methods enough to summarize it.
There is NOTHING.

I wish...
But I just can't....

This might as well be a blank page.

posted by pinay freestyle @ 2:05 PM [[ 0 comments ]]

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The sound of the rhythm circling metal wheels, the continuous swinging back and forth of her mother's feet amazed her. She held a cloth ssupported on a hollow, horizontal fixed arm, with a hole on the topside, which the needle projected through at the lowest part of its stroke. Inside the wooden table like frame armor was a hook that rotated each stroke in order to wrap the thread. It fed from the bobbin onto the hook around the needle at each stroke. The needle then carried the thread back through the cloth with the upward motion of its stroke. This formed the stitches that formed and binded every fiber of that cloth together. And that sound was coming from the power of the foot pedal as she watched her mother use her antique, wood and metal, sewing machine.



She gazed and heeded with eagle's eyes as her mom meticulously weave every intertwining yarn. The balance of connecting hoops after hoop amazed her. The seaming each precise complicated stitch creating a masterpiece in clothing enchanted her. With distinugished interest, she studied how her mother affix every fiber of that clothing turn into a beautiful commodity. Her patient mother was a master artist in sewing. And in her detectful curiosity, she beamed and watch her mom turn old, rugged, used clothes rejuvenate into revamped, perked up fashion of her mother's resourceful, artistic, hand-tailored hands.



As early as age five, she was a sewing enthusiast. Her mother found it surprisingly joyful that she has a keen interest in tailoring. None of her siblings actually found it more fascinating as she did. Her mother's tedious hardwork in producing such lovely garments from old recycled fabrics was magic to her. Sometimes, she would pay attention at how her mother fix and reattach ruined pieces of clothing of their neighbors and friends and after knot here and a loop there, she make it seem like new again.



She hailed from a tucked and isolated, quiet yet quintessential charming barrio away from the loud hustle and bustle of town life. It was an environment where modern amenities such as running water, electrical power are still absent. Food is somewhat scarce. The means of living lies predominantly in rural farming under the blazing heat of the sun. Life was obviously difficult. But it's even harder for humble, uneducated parents raised their brood out of nothing.



Daily diets consisted mostly of whatever is found available in the rice fields and the backyard. Mostly, freshly picked vegetables from the backyard or fresh fruits picked from their own tree or the neighbors. If there was a source of protein, it was either a chicken they raised themselves or caught fish from the nearby river, and little nuts here and there they see randomly on their way home from school or from helping their father from farming. And if there was, it was equally distributed in their growing flock. If you were one minute late from your meals, you lost the oppurtunity to get the best part of the chicken.



As her farmer dad worked in the rice fields, her stay at home mom took minimal tailoring jobs from neighbors and friends to help support the family. Often times, her mother spent countless hours fixing the damaged clothing. She makes every crooks and cranny old clothes look like the new distinctive fashion with endless and laborious tweaking. From her mother's tired hands, the lifeless dull fabrics becomes animated and lively works of art. All paid with minimal pay-off.



One time, she even asked her, "Mom, why do you spend so much hours, killing so much time out of the day to perfectly sew and repair each destroyed clothing from the neighbors and they only pay you a peso or two?" And her mom just look at her quietly, refraining from commenting negative. All her mom could say was, "It just like that. But it's okay. It is better than nothing." But it dismayed her because of the long toll of hours and attention to details entailed to that dressmaking was unrecognized. She feels as if her mother's efforts were not given significance from that one peso coin.



Many years after, she went to college, got married and she, too had her own children. She would teach them how her mother taught her how to sew and tailor. One time, one of her child told her about her interest in learning how to saw. On that child's birthday, she bought her the top of the line Singer electric powered sewing machine. Her child wondered why she nonhesitantly got it for her. But her child was thankful anyway. Basic by basic, she taught her how to run the basic sewing stitches, how to do the running stitches, sew a simple button on the pants, or even fix a broken zipper or patch a little hole. That gave her great joy.



I listened to her tell this story to a church mate this past weekend at the Women's Retreat. I secretly gaze at her as she relates her story and I see tears forming from her eyes. How difficult must it been to watch her mother go through that? I find it difficult hearing her tell that emotional story. You might wonder why.



That enthusiastic child who was saddened and strickened by the poverty and the selfish recognition of her mother's artful tailored creation is my dear mother, Mama Belen and that expert tailor was my grandmother, Lola Bekanf (Rebecca). And she bought me that expensive sewing machine on one of my previous birthdays.



I still have that sewing machine. But I will never look at it the same way. The sewing machine reminded my mother of her own mother. And now, I will remember my mother each time I stitch and sew any piece of clothing. My mother did not only taught me to sew and stitch a fabric, she also taught me how to sew and stitch my life, no matter how damage or destroyed, she always reminded me, I can always patch the hole, change the buttons, and make the ugly fabric be a revamped piece of clothing. Just like her own mother did.



Happy Mother's Day to my Mama Belen. This one's for you.=)

posted by pinay freestyle @ 9:26 PM [[ 0 comments ]]

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to the love of my life (dimsum),

you once told me you read this blog about my stories of love and brokenheartedness. you said, i really am in too deep when I am inlove. those were stories i wrote out of brokenheartedness. then i stopped writing after i met you. i've written stories about you here. but perhaps not as intense. why? because i was protecting you. I was protecting my privacy with you. Nonetheless, I was proud to tell the world hjow much i love you.

truth is, i don't know how to tell the world how much i love you. there is no love story greater than i had with you. you are, by far, God's greatest gift to me. You loved me at my very best and you understood me in my worst.

I know, it's not easy to love me. I am stubborn, opinionated, easily-angered, controlling individual. It was also hard to let anyone in my world because i have been betrayed so many times. I was scared to fall inlove because I was scared to be hurt again.

Then you came along. You melted my cold, icy heart. With you, i let my guard down and i let you in my heart. At that time, I thought I could not love anymore, you came along and taught me how to love again.

We had a little fall out three weeks ago. It was one of our most difficult misunderstanding ever. I was about to have a procedure the following day and all I thought was you. You have not checked on me that day when you usually do.

That was when I realized, I don't think I can survive a day without you. You've given rainbows to my dull, blank everydays. Suddenly, my days became empty. my days are painted in pitch dark black.

When I saw you, I just wanted to hold you close to me, to look into your eyes when you talk to me, to hold your hand, to feel your warmth of your hugs, to feel how much you loved me. And I see in your eyes, the void to look at me and the cold shivers from your hugs.

MPerhaps, it is my fault. I've been mean and angered and I said things that hurt your feelings. They might have pushed you away. I am trying so hard to win you back. I am trying so hard just to have a glimpse of you. I'm still trying.

I told you, until the last breath of my life, I will keep trying. I will try even if if takes me all of my lifetime. Why? Because I know this journey with you, to love you and be loved by you was worthied. I took the risk the first time. It has been three years and a half, I am willing to take that risk again.

I love you more than words wil ever say. But I hope you always forgive me for my mood swings, my inconsistencies, my imperfections and all my shortcomings.

I am here...waiting for you to shower me with your love again.

For the mean time, I will see you in my dreams...where I can hold you close filled with love.

Always,

Your Princess.

posted by pinay freestyle @ 4:01 PM [[ 0 comments ]]

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long silence.

but i'm back.

long story.


btw. i'm on facebook now check me at www.facebook.com/princessneliron

posted by pinay freestyle @ 11:16 AM [[ 0 comments ]]

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sweaty, exasperated and panting tired, he ran along beside me as i stepped on the pedal circling the big oval on my BMX bike. he hung on and manuevered the bicycle's wheel making sure i'm doing it right.

after circling three rounds with him, i earned my guts. i finally told him, "i can do it alone. you can let me go now."

reluctantly afraid, he slowly let go of his hands on the bike's seat. it was an unwilling gesture but he did it anyway.

his eyes were keenly glued to me. he watched me vigilantly as i coasted the bike in advance. i was self determined to go on my own.

i saw his delight when he smiled ecstaticly from ear to ear to see me handling the bike unaided.
boastfully showing off, i mobilized that bicycle hard and fast uncontrolledly.

despite his cautious warnings, i accelerated the speed even more. i was trying to brag and exhibit to him, i can burn rubber and go even faster.

"slow down...don't go too fast yet. do it carefully," he instructed me with care and concern and with that apprehensive glare in his eyes.

but my stubborn, stick necked, harddeaded self insisted i pedalled even more with great power. i was persistent that i can speed dash these new wheels.

i was egotistic. in fact, with my chin up high, i steered that bike arrogantly like a quick, racing, rapid supersonic speed ball.

the wind breeze blew on my face. so with all my might, i drove that bike double pronto like winged jetplane in the sky.

as i approach the ending turn, i was in bliss to almost reach the starting line on my first cirle on that oval riding my bike for the first time.

but i underestimated the curve on that turn. i miscalculated the elliptical concave arch on the oval.

unable to hit the brakes on time,i fell sidewise on my bike. but even worse, i fell straight on my face towards the rocky ground.

crying from the seeing the blood on my skinned knees and bruised face, i hollered for help with my screaming voice.

from a far and in panicked, i saw the sight of him hurriedly rushing to my rescue.

panting again, almost burned out, he ran as fast as he could.

"are you okay? where does it hurt?" he asked. he seemed rattled and anxious.

"eddie, get something to wipe the blood," he instructed our house boy hurriedly.

"are you okay? tell me where it hurts.it will be okay. i am here." he uttered. this time, he said it calmingly.

he rubbed my bruised spot. and i, i just stared at his distressed face.

"i'm sorry, i did not listen. i was too excited to ride my bike, that's why." i responded.

from there, he scooped me with his strong arms and took me to the bleachers. he wiped the red spots my bleeding knee and cleaned the dirt on my face with his handkerchief.

"i'm okay now. it is okay now," i assured him.

"are you sure?" he asked.

"very sure." i replied.

"now, do you want to ride the bike again?" he asked me.

i smiled in glee.

then i asked him, "can you walk next to me again while i am on the bike?"

willingly, he said, "sure. but this time, be careful. okay?"

and so even with my skinned knees, i rode that bike again...even until now.

that was 24 years ago.

i rode my bike on my own at the clisoc field by the oval in my hometown, bayombong, nueva vizcaya, philippines.

that wonderful man was my dad - PAPA BERT.

he taught me many things after that...

he taught me how to cook, clean the house, wash the clothes & dishes, take care of my siblings, budget the grocery because he claimed i will not have maids forever.

he taught to be kind to the poor, to be generous and share my blessings, to serve others and not asked anything in return. he claimed i can not bring all wealth to heaven, only my friends.

he taught me many more...

there were many more lessons after.

up to this day, i still learn everyday.

but the greatest compliment i have ever received is that i am like MY DAD.

why? because i have the greatest dad.

HAPPY 60TH BIRTHDAY PAPA BERT!
HAPPY FATHER'S DAY not just today but everyday!
we love you.
<3, len

posted by pinay freestyle @ 9:19 PM [[ 0 comments ]]

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One day, a father and his rich family took his son to a trip to the country with the firm purpose to show him how poor people can be. They spent a day and a night in the farm of a very poor family.

When they got back from their trip the father asked his son, "How was the trip?"

"Very good Dad!," The son replied.

"Did you see how poor people can be?," the father asked.

"Yeah!" his son said.

"And what did you learn?," the father asked again.

The son answered, " Well, I learned that....

I saw that we have a dog at home,

and they have four.

<

We have a pool that reaches

to the middle of the garden,

they have a creek that has no end.

We have imported lamps in the garden,

they have the stars.

Our patio reaches to the front yard,

they have a whole horizon."

When the little boy was finishing, his father was speechless.

His son added,

"Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are!"

If you have love, friends, family, health, good humor and a positive attitude towards life you've got everything! You can't buy any of these things, but still, you can have all the material possessions you can imagine, provisions for the future, etc., but if you are poor of spirit, you have nothing!

Isn't it true that ...

it all depends on the way you look at things?

Labels: life, life lessons, lifestyle

posted by pinay freestyle @ 1:56 AM [[ 0 comments ]]

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Once, there was a little boy with a bad temper. So as a punishment, his father gave him a bag of nails and instructed him that every time he lost his temper, the little boy will need to hammer a nail in the back fence.

The first day, the easily angered boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. But after couple of days, it had gradually dwindled down. He finally discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence.

Finally, the day came when the boy did not lose his temper at all. He told his father about it. But in surprised and confused, the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.

The days passed and the young boy was glad because finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. Then the father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence.

He said, "You have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. Have you noticed all the damage tarnished by the nails you hammered on the fence?The fence will never be the same. It is the same when you're angry. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one."

You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It does not matter how many times you say "I'm sorry, " the wound is still there. A verbal wound is as bad and damaging as a physical one.

Let us think before we say something mean towards someone else. If we have nothing nice to say, let us refrain from saying anything. By doing so, not only did we save a hurting heart, but also we did not leave permanent scars. =)

posted by pinay freestyle @ 1:03 AM [[ 0 comments ]]

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one day, i decided to quit...

i quit my job, my relationship, my spirituality... I wanted to quit my life.

i went to the woods to have one last talk with God.

"God", i asked, "can you give me one good reason not to quit?"

His answer surprised me...

"look around", He said. "do you see the fern and the bamboo?"

"yes", I replied.

"see...when I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, i took very good care of them...

i gave them light.

i gave them water.

the fern quickly grew from the earth.

its brilliant green covered the floor.

yet, nothing came from the bamboo seed. but i did not quit on the bamboo.

in the second year, the fern grew more vibrant and plentiful.

and again, nothing came from the bamboo seed.

but i did not quit on the bamboo", God said.

"in year three, there was still nothing from the bamboo seed.

but i would not quit.

in year four, again, there was nothing from the bamboo seed.

i would not quit", He said.

"then in the fifth year, a tiny sprout emerged from the earth.

compared to the fern it was seemingly small and insignificant...

but just 6 months later, the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall.

it had spent the five years growing roots.

those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive.

i would not give any of my creations a challenge it could not handle."

He asked me, "did you know, my child, that all this time you have

been struggling, you have actually been growing roots".

"i would not quit on the bamboo.

i will never quit on you."

"don't compare yourself to others", He said.

"the bamboo had a different purpose than the fern.

yet, they both make the forest beautiful."

"your time will come", God said to me.

"you will rise high"

"how high should I rise?", i asked.

"how high will the bamboo rise?", He asked in return.

"as high as it can?", i questioned.

"Yes.", He said, "give me glory by rising as high as you can."

posted by pinay freestyle @ 12:01 PM [[ 0 comments ]]

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like a theatrical piece seen in a broadway play or a scene in a tear-jerking movie production, life is a showmanship poured with a labyrinthe of mystifying dramas. my meandering life existence for the past few weeks leaves me exhausted. its’ intricate unending complications are becoming laboriously unbearable. almost daily, i am faced with problematic dillemmas. troublesome journeys take an immense toll on me causing unmanageable relationships with my lovedones, peers, and even myself.

today, after yet another demanding encounter last night that resulted in fuming argument, i found myself staring at my own reflection in the mirror. my chinky eyes manifested a sleepless tearful night with obvious puffiness. the skin that circles under my eyebags and my eyelids are peeling and a little red from rubbing it too much that i obtained from wiping my tears rigoriously. i wanted to smile instead i displayed a sorrowful frown.

the urge to weep again arises but i kept it composed. alternatively, i stared at my blank face. silently in my head, i started a conversation with that woman i see infront of the mirror. the array of painful events suddenly rewinded and recalled. the anxious concerns came pouring in and rationalizing scrutiny. there are a vast of negative critiques to identify. there are summons of pin pointing blames. there are intriguing questions calling for answers…most of which starts with “why?.” yet, i forced to ignore that agenda. it was not my desire to let the tears fall again this time.

in leui, i directed the serious ”discussion” to import of unwavering strength, to give in to account of hope, and to chronicle and remind myself to hold on to faith. i desired this consultation to be a journey to heal, to forgive and eventually to forget.

so the dialogues went like these...

always know that there are those whose love and
understanding will always be there, even when you feel most alone. there are the people who will love you even in your worse self, they will love you. never stop discovering. discover enough goodness in others to believe in this world of peace.

embrace and be thankful for simple gestures: a kind word, a reassuring touch, and a warm smile be yours every day of your life. and in return, may you give these gifts as well as receive them.

always believe and hold on to hope. remember the beauty of the sunshine when the life’s storm seems unending.

never stop loving. teach love to those who hate you and your family. love your enemies the most. let that love embrace you as you go out into the world. never stop learning. let the teachings of those people you admire and got inspired become part of you, so that you may call upon them.

always make a positive connection and never forget the people you have met along the way. remember that those whose lives you have touched and whose have touched yours are always a part of you, even if the encounters were less than you would have wished. it is the content of the encounter that is more important than the form.

do not become too concerned and obsessed with material matters, but instead place
immeasurable value on the goodness in your heart. remember... you can not
bring all these treasures in heaven. you can only bring your friends.

always be appreciative and productive. find pleasure in simple things. find time
each day to see beauty and love in the world around you. realize that each
person has limitless abilities, but recognize that each of us is different in our own way. what you feel you lack in the present may become one of your strengths in the future.

never stop dreaming and achieving and stop worrying. look at the future as
one filled with promise and possibility. be a sponge and absorb everything life
has to offer. learn to view everything as a worthwhile experience.

find YOURSELF. find enough inner strength to determine your own worth by yourself. do not be dependent on another’s judgment of your accomplishments. you know yourself better than anyone else.

despite the hurt…always believe in love. always believe there are people who care for you and love you as you are. so just be yourself. may you always be loved. may "mr. dimsum" always love you...despite of the times you say angry things at him. may he be patient and unchanging.

there may be testing trials…but remember that there are also victorious triumphs. and that the world awaits you…

Labels: hope, life, life lessons, my story

posted by pinay freestyle @ 12:45 AM [[ 0 comments ]]

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It's not how long we held each other's hand

posted by pinay freestyle @ 3:00 AM [[ 0 comments ]]

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