Friday: Sometimes when I’m not busy I imagine me talking to my future child. Yes, I am that weird. But if you’re nice, you’ll say “Wow, you’ve got a revolutionary mind.” okay seryoso na sa istorya. This time I told my future child na ” Nak, I’ve always been regretful on why I whined and questioned God over the struggles and pain that I’ve experienced back then. Now that I have all of these. Our family. Your dad. They’re all making sense. And instead of whining, I should have thanked Him for each sorrow felt . All those lead to these. He made all with discretion and love. Strategically planned and mapped out for my happiness.” naisip ko ito while looking through the window sa 10th floor ng building at pakiramdam ko talaga magkakaroon din ako ng sariling building. Ang High ko!
Thursday: dead air. I felt the Angels from Adjustment Bureau were working on my mind to make me more decisive. They’re sort of fixing my chaotic overthinking brain.
Wednesday: I think Im going to marry a person who is really respectable. The day before that I thought of James Franco. James thought I can be a “smart wife”. On Wednesday, I just forgot who. Maybe a prince. A prime minister. Someone of high position from France. I told myself, “Why Lord God did you allow these thoughts to race on my mind?”
Tuesday: I thought that the ironclad mark of being famous is to be interviewed by the Boy Abunda. Oh diba! hehe Tito Boy asked me about like winning a lottery for having such husband. I told him that my husband is my price from God for being obedient all these years. HAHA
Hello tumblees! It’s one of those days when you feel like writing but too lazy to proof read what you have just written. teehee
I stumbled upon a note with the word PAPA on it while cleaning my bat cave. Mortal sin na naman to write a note without blogging my then awesome thoughts. I remember though that I wrote that one on a sunday right after church. I was silently crying on my seat. If masyado akong mag-ingay madidisturb ko na ang katabi ko na siguro may pinagdadaanan din. I always think of my dad. He’s my hero. Di ko lang talaga maalala the exact reason why I burst into tears. Kasi everything about my dad is full of resilience and inspiration. Hindi ko alam kung dahil ba sa namove ako na kailangan pa niyang magtrabaho sa edad nya o dahil ba sa masyado nya kaming mahal. Pwede rin sa awa na kahit anong bait ng ama ko, tinatapakan ang pagkatao niya ng mga taong minsan buong pusong tinulungan nya. Even if I become digits richer than my dad, I don’t think I’ll ever be greater than the person that he is.
Who I am today is all my parents’ doing. And in a heartbeat if any from my family would ask me to give a part of me for their survival;I’d gladly give that up. Papa, when I feel like quitting, I just remember you and Im strong again. I love you
Perhaps, I am not in the position to say much about religion. I do love my God. I know Him(as much knowledge my brain can handle). But I dont know Him as much as those who stayed inside the seminaries and convents.
And my today’s post may scream prejudice,hypocrisy, blasphemy…anything that a narrow mind…oops lets change that to “a less understanding mind” can think of.
Yesterday before going to church, my brother did his daily bouts of angst for himself that he throws to each of us in the family. As I was trying to dress up for church, I thought that I am emotionally drained that I don’t want to go to church anymore. Still, I felt it is my duty as a catholic, and so I made my way to hear mass.
While the mass was going on, I prayed and prayed that God will grant me a forgiving heart. I ask that He will allow me to put my whole concentration in celebrating the Eucharist with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
I think Sunday’s Best should not be limited in clothing alone. A beggar who wholeheartedly prep up himself as much as his means can offer pleases God. Sunday’s best should have a holistic approach. I was guilty of being not at my best yesterday. I was complaining why I sat beside someone whose breath kept me from removing my hands on my nose. And I hated myself more. I’ve always believed that all of us should be careful of our actions because we are not only accountable to ourselves but also to how others think of us. I don’t want other people to sin because of me. I didn’t blame the girl. I hated myself for not being that understanding that perhaps the person i am sitting beside with also has her own inner battle. I am also at times guilty of not prepping myself well for mass. The holy mass is a celebration. Be your best self, Kat.
while sunday mass was commencing, i thought “God has given me second chances even if i dont ask for it…even at times when i dont notice he was giving it. Today, I am officially asking God to give me a second chance in life. This time I’ll use my gifts better.”
scripture says: No one who had collected more had too much, no one who collected less had too little.
today, i was forcing myself to dream of andy again. it wasnt as fun as the first “unforced” one. also saturday night dream was true love at it’s finest. yep! dream of the alec brandon from pbb.teehee. God is soo good. Ive been distancing my self from love. To feel it in a dream is a blessing. I know the lord will grant me a good man. I trust Him. I trust He will grant him to me in the right time.
today’s a bit gloomy though. i cant help but think of the opportunities i let go. i wasnt ready at that time…that i convince myself.
on another note, i realized that most of the time i am the one who gives extra effort to make friends with those men that i friend zoned. this is so random
“ If you hoard love, it melts away. If you lock love, it breaks free. If you grab on to love, you end up holding an illusion. When you let love flower in its own way, it stays to support you. When you pass on love, it multiplies beyond measure.
— God messages from facebook
‘Paris clothes have such chic’ or in the modernist sense ‘the chic of the first-nighter’. In short it is Sophistication in dress manner, something that is elegant and fashionable.
source:http://www.blurtit.com/q384120.html
the shabby chic show clouded my definition…well maybe just my personal say that shabby’s really diff from chic. let this be an iron clad meaning…please dont use the words interchangeably
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