My 3 am thoughts

 

During these long nights wrapped in anxiety, I find myself drawn into prayer—into a quiet conversation between my heart and something far greater than myself. In those moments of stillness, as I listen to the gentle whisper of my inner voice, I begin to feel safe… held… secure.

Processing life, for me, is an act of surrender and understanding. Life unfolds as it is meant to, and when we attempt to twist its nature to fit our fears or expectations, we risk disturbing the fragile peace within us. There are battles we fight in silence—unseen wars that take place in the dimly lit corners of our personal sanctuaries. Yet it is often there, in that quiet darkness, where we discover the faint glow of our own light.

I have learned that I carry my life at my own rhythm—unrushed, intentional, and deeply personal. To move at my own pace, to savor moments, to mend the broken spaces with my own hands—these are not signs of weakness. They do not require me to lower my standards, nor to compromise the respect I owe myself.

There are forces in life beyond our control, beyond even our understanding. To overanalyze every storm is to forget that we are human—creatures guided sometimes by logic, sometimes by emotion, and often by the mysterious intersection of both.

And so, I allow myself to breathe.
To gather the scattered fragments of who I am.
To feel everything—grief, hope, fear, peace—without apology.

I am learning that change is rarely a thunderclap moment where everything transforms overnight. More often, it is a quiet season—a sacred stretch of time where we learn, stumble, rise, adjust, and grow.

I hold deep admiration for those who weather their own hurricanes in silence—those who carry storms within their chests yet still sit calmly with a warm cup of coffee, composed and steady. They rarely speak of their struggles, yet they nurture peace within themselves and somehow still find strength to uplift others.

And above all, I have come to understand this truth:
When God resides within your heart and soul, no mountain is too vast, no path too broken to cross.

The road may not be gentle. The journey may not be easy. But one day, you will stand amazed at who you have become—because God has been shaping you all along, placing moments, people, and lessons exactly where they need to be. Not to change you into someone else—but to help you fully become you, through His grace.

To follow His path is to slowly, bravely release your potential. To live with contentment—not because you have settled for less, but because you have chosen to focus on who He calls you to be.

For everything here on earth is temporary. The shine of superficial things will one day fade like dust under sunlight.

So keep moving forward.
Keep shining.

Let your light travel beyond distances you may never see—
Touching hearts in places you may never know—
And echoing into eternity, where true meaning lives.

2021: Rebuilding with Purpose

 

he silence has finally lifted, and with it came a wave of quiet relief—like the first breath after being underwater for far too long. I receive it as an answered prayer.

Thank You, Lord, for Your unseen guidance, for leading me through a path where I was able to step away with grace. I carry the experience not as a wound, but as a lesson… and even, in some ways, a beautiful memory of growth.

Perhaps I may be starting again from the beginning—but beginnings are sacred. They are where hope is born.

This year, 2021, I have finally gathered the courage to reshape parts of myself. To become clearer about the life I truly want to live. To choose health—of body, mind, and spirit. Life is fleeting, like mist dissolving under the morning sun, and I long to spend my remaining years with a heart anchored in positivity and purpose.

I am ready to release negativity, for I have seen how it dims the natural beauty of life.

Life is brief, yet powerful. And I want to invest mine into something meaningful—something that glorifies God. Something that will leave a gentle mark of love, faith, and purpose long after I am gone.

And so, here are the promises I am making to myself:

1. Financial Stability
To face my responsibilities with courage. To settle my debts. To build an emergency fund—my shield against life’s unexpected storms.

2. Healthy Living
To nourish my body with vibrant fruits and vegetables. To move, to exercise, to honor the body God has entrusted to me.

3. Writing
To remain faithful to my words. To create, to express, to document thoughts and stories that may one day touch another soul.

4. Learning New Things
To stay curious. To learn cooking, to explore parenting (yes, even if it makes me smile saying it), and to remain open to growth in all seasons of life.

5. The Bible
To complete reading the entire book before the year ends. To deepen my relationship with God. To share devotional reflections that may inspire, comfort, and guide others who are also searching for light.

This is not just a list.
This is a covenant with the person I am becoming.
A promise to live intentionally.
A promise to grow.
A promise to walk closely with God, wherever the road may lead.

Between Thoughts and Breaths

  

December 28, 2020 — Day One

It was a morning wrapped in quiet gloom, my heart heavier than the rain-laced sky above me. I walked along a mist-veiled street, clutching my black umbrella like a fragile shield against emotions I could not quite name.

Mid-step, I froze—wondering why such deep, uninvited pain had settled inside me. Thoughts swirled like storm clouds, pressing against my mind until breathing itself felt like a task.

I felt lost… untethered from time. The world blurred at the edges, like a painting smudged by unseen hands. Without much thought, I hailed a taxi—perhaps hoping movement would quiet the chaos within me.

My chest pounded wildly, as if trying to outrun my consciousness. I gathered what remained of my senses and forced a small, fragile smile—an attempt to trick my mind, even if only for a moment.

The silence was so consuming that even the nearby hum of jeepneys felt distant. Outside the taxi window, the world passed as vague streaks of motion, unreal and far away.

When the taxi stopped, I stepped back into routine, performing my duties as expected—unaware that an assessment awaited me. A one-on-one meeting with my superior.

A part of me trembled with nervousness, yet I chose calmness as my armor. I listened, quietly sorting through the tides of my thoughts. I knew I had room to grow. Anxiety lingered, yet relief followed close behind, like a gentle exhale after holding breath for too long.

---

December 29, 2020

The thought lingered, a quiet echo I couldn’t escape. In the solitude of the bathroom, I allowed myself to cry—whispering prayers only heaven could hear.

I told myself to stand firm. To let God guide my steps. To gather strength enough to face reality, no matter how heavy it felt.

I buried myself in the tasks laid across my table, trying to anchor my emotions through productivity—seeking validation, stability, grounding.

I reminded myself:

It is okay not to be okay.

It is human to feel pain.

It is human to experience the full spectrum of existence—

To love,

To break,

And to heal.

---

December 30, 2020

I tried to calm my spirit, letting soft Christian hymns wrap around my thoughts as I organized my space.

I made my bed carefully, prepared clothes and linens for laundry—simple acts of order against the noise in my mind.

Still, the murmurs in my head would not quiet.

I returned to sleep, letting motivational words play softly, hoping they would soothe the unrest in my soul. Later, I stepped outside for a walk and unexpectedly passed by a massage parlor—an ordinary place in an extraordinary moment of searching.

Then I met an old friend—a former churchmate. Time dissolved between us. We spoke, shared, listened. She welcomed my thoughts without judgment, just as I listened to hers. And in that exchange, something inside me felt lighter.

---

December 31, 2020

Illness settled into my body like an unwelcome guest. I hesitated about going to Arrezo Place for New Year celebrations.

Instead, I spent the day alone—curled on my bed, watching dreamers and creators chase their aspirations through the screen.

I called my housemate to say I wasn’t feeling well. I knew my body and mind needed rest more than celebration.

And strangely, I was okay with solitude.

I steamed hotdogs and embutido before taking my medicine—small comforts in a quiet room.

The heaviness remained. I spoke to God constantly, searching for a path where I could hear Him clearly. Yet silence answered me, like trying to tame an elusive lion hidden deep within its den.

Still… I held on to one truth:

God gave me strength.

And sometimes, that is enough to keep moving forward.

---

January 1, 2021

Happy New Year.

I refused to let sorrow define my first sunrise of the year. I messaged my brother, reminding him how deeply I love him.

Now, I write these thoughts—raw, unfiltered, real. Please bear with me. I am learning to translate emotions into purpose.

Soft, calming sounds fill the air, helping my mind find focus, like stars aligning after a stormy night.

Today, I choose productivity.

Today, I choose healing.

Today, I choose to keep going.

The Allure of the Unconventional

Have you ever watched a movie and suddenly found yourself utterly fascinated by a character? It doesn’t matter what they look like on the surface—something about them sparks a wildfire of curiosity in you. If you’re the type of person who instinctively Googles the actor’s name, digs into their background, and dives deep into character analyses, then consider this a virtual high-five—because I feel you.

For me, it’s the thrill of encountering a character that’s just a little strange, a little mysterious, or brilliantly twisted. Villains who toy with the minds of their victims? Genius. Those kinds of roles don’t just entertain—they demand exploration. They pull me in, and I find myself wandering down rabbit holes of information, reading interviews, biographies, and behind-the-scenes stories just to understand the craft, the thought process, the art.

Take Eddie Redmayne, for instance. My first encounter with him was in The Theory of Everything, where he brought Stephen Hawking to life with a hauntingly delicate grace. Watching him transform into Hawking—a mind trapped in a body betraying itself—was mesmerizing. Naturally, my curiosity couldn’t stop there. I had to know who Eddie Redmayne really was. I read his biography, scrolled through his interviews, and discovered an actor with incredible depth, a dedication to craft so profound that he seems to inhabit every role entirely. I didn’t just see a performance; I glimpsed an artist in full bloom, painting life on the screen.

Actors like him leave a lasting imprint on your imagination. They make you pause, wonder, and sometimes fall down the delightful rabbit hole of curiosity, savoring every detail you can uncover. And honestly, that’s the magic of cinema—the way one character can open a portal into a world of stories behind the story.

Robert Carlyle is an actor who lingers in your mind long after the screen goes dark. I first encountered him as Rumplestiltskin and Mr. Gold in Once Upon a Time, and I was utterly fascinated by his dual mastery of these contrasting souls. Mr. Gold exudes a composed, almost serene neutrality, a quiet intelligence that commands attention without a single exaggerated gesture. Then, in a dazzling flip, he becomes Rumplestiltskin—a mischievous, almost childlike trickster who delights in the art of deception, his gleeful antics tinged with a darkness that keeps you both charmed and unsettled.

What makes Carlyle mesmerizing is his attention to the tiniest details: the subtlest twitch of a lip, the playful shift in his voice, the precise mannerisms that reveal the hidden depths of a character. Watching him is like peering through a kaleidoscope—each angle reveals a new shade, a new layer of personality. He doesn’t just act; he sculpts each role, crafting a living, breathing mosaic of humanity that feels astonishingly real and endlessly captivating.

I’ve come to realize that our likes and dislikes are mirrors of our inner selves—they reveal not only our personalities but also the way we perceive and cherish artistry. A character on screen is only as powerful as the soul that breathes life into them; without passion, performance is merely motion, devoid of magic.

When something captures my intrigue, I am compelled to dive beneath the surface, to explore the layers hidden from the casual glance. Curiosity stirs within me like a gentle wind fanning a quiet flame, urging me to uncover the truths that lie beyond what my eyes can see. It is more than intellectual pursuit; it is a sensation that resonates deep within my heart and soul. There is a certain enchantment in the air of mystery—a pull that makes obsession feel like devotion, that transforms every question into a delicate thrill, every discovery into a quiet revelation. The unknown does not intimidate me; it beckons me, promising that beyond each shadow lies a story waiting to be unveiled.