Home, just home

It’s inarguably fun to spend a long weekend out of town. Beaches are forever. Mountain cities to grab platters of genuinely fresh fruits and veggies to straighten up your diet. Lakes for refreshing fishing breaks. Least of all, staying in town but going out to fancy dinners and cocktail parties to catch up with good old friends. There’s, in fact, an awful lot of options. You simply have to posses that awesome skill in time management, specifically weekend management. Road trips? Why not? Take your beer and reggae to the road!

I  would have wanted any, if not a manageable combination, of the options above for my five-day very long weekend. With my kind of job, a five-day weekend definitely ain’t not the one you’d waste away to zero plans. Too precious like blue moon. I had better called up or buzzed friends either to suggest budget and itinerary or have them do the planning. Which I did, actually – I checked with them. First two plans were for beaches. Third was for a garage sale part 2! We did part 1 in November last year and we sold pretty lots but we still have a couple more bags of pre-loved clothes to go out. Fourth and last alternative was for a visit to our relatives a little down south. None of which happened. And surprisingly, it was all fine to me. :)

Solid five straight days at home, and just home. Tomorrow is the last and so far, I’ve stepped out our door only once (just earlier tonight) to have dinner at the nearest fast food resto.


I know there’s nothing much to that story. Except that I thought I wanted to share how good it feels to be…just home. Nothing of Long Weekend Travel Extraordinaire but just a lazy couch, lazier pillows, cotton-soft furry blanket, honing my frying skills, my three-item tech stuff, my urges to clean up, and all the mess happening around – the kind of mess that completes the homey vibe.

I love how I am able to post on this blog again. :) I finished reading John Green’s Looking for Alaska. I finished my homeworks, just a few more to be done tomorrow in preparation for next week. I get to stay very late like now at exactly 3:14 AM and wake up tomorrow for lunch perhaps? Oh yeah, I afforded a shower-free day. C’mon, we all have those days when it feels like the shower room is a hell hole but actually, the truth is we’re just too lazy to do it! Guilty here. :D Plus, having arrested myself at home calmed down my appetite turning down my monster hunger impulses. It kinda works. My tummy has been a little less bulging at least, LOL!

On a serious note, I realized that oftentimes, somehow, this wild, extravagant fanfare for travelling has become a fun form of toxicity. I don’t mean all of it. Travelling is a good thing, no question. I do travel myself, with a lot of friends. Only that, at some point, it has become a living standard, a status quo that whether you have travel funds or not, go go go; otherwise you are so left out. That’s case to case, of course, but that seems to be the hidden picture of it. If I’m not mistaken.

And in some plenty cases, people go crazy over travels we forget about our home – our safest happy place. Which I hope won’t be always the case. Take a break. Go home. :)

Home, just home

War in this generation

Under this gray bed weather, faint drizzle pouring down from a tamed storm, I sigh a heavy one. I feel sad at how the world has gone all too much outrageous, or at least the bigger part of it. Not excluding myself from the noisy crowd. Now I realize how mad it has become. Defeaning.

I thank God animals are far from letting out their thoughts over the Internet. Although many of them have been humanized, facial expressions and body language captioned in the very way humans would have thought of the moment. May they remain as simply-designed creatures that will never have to understand the dynamics of the Internet, esp the social media.

It’s like one gigantic drunken party out here, where everyone has to shout really loud to be heard. Ironically, when it’s supposed to be that people are brought closer because of all the available means, it seems we are all breaking apart. So much disagreements, competitions, differences that never shook hands in peace, rights deprived and rights that always have to be fought for. It seems endless and only the endlessness seems visible.

In the ages of emperors and wars, battles were fought between nations, kingdoms, and tribes. But there were days of truce. White flags waved. Peace and surrender. Peace sought for centuries. And the same peace now being sent out to nowhere, always shooed away, kicked in the ass. It’s a shutout between peace and pride, peace never scoring a point.

Everyone wants to say something, everyone wants to be heard. And everyone is almost always required to take sides or protest against. Everyone wants to come first, everyone wants to set the trend. Everyone wants to be different, but everyone wants to be in.

Then there’s culture. Race, religion and faith, gender, clans, beliefs and principles, interests and so on.

One speaks up, another disagrees. Another comes to defense and another curses the three. A new one chimes in, ten agree, and suddenly a hundred spit on what they all say. A question is asked, an opinion is raised, accompanied by arching eyebrows. A question is thrown, a smarty is blown, crowd in protest yells on. Everyone is brilliant and opinionated, no one claims to be lame and short of knowledge. Everyone is a jury in an unending debate.

This is a generation short of silence. Perhaps a few, but how few have come to understand the occasional need for solitude? We keep on ranting and blaming, always thinking out loud about our judgments, always needing affirmation even for the most basic action of putting food in our mouths.

Somewhere at some point, we lost our intention for peace. Everything done is questioned. Everyone is doubted. Nothing has been done right. Nobody is trustworthy. Comment on a good deed and in the next minute, bad stories about it have been told. Write about a good man and in the next ten seconds, he is an impostor. Isn’t there one thing left in this world that we can all agree on?

It’s almost hopeless. Peace seems to have gone far beyond the outskirts, swallowed by the huge creepy shadows of our pride. With a very heavy heart, I am still hoping, with all the hopes I could gather, that there’s still at least a tiny part of peace that we can pinch and pull out from the shadows before it’s completely gone.

Of course, there is hope. In humility, there is.

Peace yo!


War in this generation

The Breaking Point: The Death of a Promise

image “Maybe because some things have changed.”

Nah. It’s not that some things have changed. Everything actually has.

What’s left is what’s to be done that is to let go. Let go of the pain that remained, the hate that wakes me up every now and then, the joy that steals me from what’s real now, the stories made, and the last few questions that will perhaps remain unanswered. All of them. Because we’re now at the end of our forever. This is where we let our dreams drift away, free our love to fly somewhere out a space we will never ever find and from where our love will never find its way back.

Thank you for everything. It was worth a story after all. But it ends here, now. And I leave here my tiny hopes for us I’ve been holding for a while. And the only thing that I have to offer now is peace. May you find the love you’ve long been looking for.

The Breaking Point: The Death of a Promise

19 Sobering Truths About Friendship You Need To Accept In Your 20s


This is just about everything I’ve been feeling. I am normal. Lol!

Originally posted on Thought Catalog:

1. The people who you thought would be there for you when it counted are not always going to be there. Sometimes because they quite literally cannot be there, other times because they just don’t want to (anymore).

2. The same will go for you – you’re not always going to (want to) be there for people who need you too.

3. Some of your friends will be more successful than you. And you will be more successful than some of your friends. And this will change over time depending on everyone’s life situation, path, and sheer dumb luck.

4. You will feel like people you’ve known for years don’t know you at all anymore (and you don’t know them either). You will also feel like people you’ve met for five minutes just “get you.” And it’ll be a strange, complex feeling you’re not quite sure how to handle all…

View original 727 more words

19 Sobering Truths About Friendship You Need To Accept In Your 20s

One-night love

There’s that place that exists between the real and the almost real. Like limbo but not exactly. Like coma but something else.

You’ve had those moments when you share a slice of time with a friend, an acquaintance, or a stranger doing nothing big, but just being there with him or her who must be feeling the same way – wonderfully weird.


Here’s a story.

It was a long ride all the way from a northern beach town back to the metropolis and the night, although a little too humid, was charmingly peaceful. Everyone was dead tired but not necessarily quiet. It was six hours between the better life in the countryside and the fast pace in the city. My plan was to have the whole time all to sleep. And I did. Only, not entirely.

My head keeps on hitting something. Bones? Never mind, didn’t hurt anyway. [goes back to sleep]

Heck! Here comes the sleep head-banger and I look f**king stupid sleeping and bobbing my head like a lousy rock star on a high. And it’s hurting my neck big time! [goes back to sleep]

There, there. That’s better. Not so bumpy and my heavy head finding a place to rest. Whose shoulder is this? Anyway…[goes back to sleep]

[A bit awake and squinting] Asphalt. Lamp posts. Ah, the national highway. Although the entire ride probably looked the same but pretty sure we didn’t hit the express way too soon.

Okaaay, this is hurting a bit now. But good enough and far better than get my head banging like an annoying doggie car accessory.

Wait, what??? Am I leaning on someone’s shoulder?

Oh. Yeah. This is weird. Ummm, that okay kind of weird.

You’ve had those moments too when it feels like the universe has gone lost in its own mechanics, protested against its own plans. You will notice that out-of-order moment because every second is supposed to have been planned, timed, and is supposed to be familiar to your senses. But like a watch suddenly malfunctioning, mistakenly switching gears and mixing up time, there are those moments when the universe seems to lose grip and get things out of their proper places and timing. I think that’s exactly when spontaneity happens. Like when love comes in the form of a shooting star. Enchanting, surreal, amazingly beautiful…and always just passing.

[in silence, of course] Hey! Thanks for the shoulder. Good enough for a not-necessarily-soft pillow for the rest of the ride. I mean, I really appreciate it.

I’m quite sure you can feel my head moving up and down to the beat of your breathing. Or perhaps the strands of my hair pressing against your neck. The way we are now, our heads a little too close, I can almost feel my thoughts slipping through the pores of my scalp, being pulled by your neurons. But I just have to be greedy, I can’t share my thoughts with you. Because right now, they are the most precious secrets I hold. And if you’ll get to them, that’s as good as seeing me naked.

Brake. We had to stop for a toilet break. I woke up to the excitement of having to be able to run to the toilet. Sure you know how that feels. But I had to ask first, “Where are we?”; and you said, “Some place in your heart.”; and I asked again, “Yeah?”; and you said, “Imagine that. The whole van fits in your heart.” I couldn’t find a good answer to that so I smiled, rather more like a smirk, and went back to sleep. Well, I was hoping you knew I didn’t. Oh, and I forgot to pee?

The clothes I’m wearing now is this seemingly deep sleep and I’m being very careful not to wake up. Because this sleep is the only thing that’s keeping you from seeing me in my naked form and from getting to my little secret with a lifespan of just this night.

If I wake up, that’s like giving away my little secret to the only person who’s not supposed to know.

Hey! Tonight, I love you. But when this ride ends, this story will also be over – most likely. I’ll be wide awake, reality will pull me out from this “spontanium”, and everything will go back to normal. Like I’ve never loved you and as if you’ve never loved me back.

Thank you anyway for that little infinity. Somehow I wished it was real, but the most it can be was to be almost real. It may never be in the intentions of fate to make it last. But isn’t it beautiful enough that our little infinity ended in a way that no one had to hold back a tear?

I loved you that night,

One-night love

Dreams under renovation

I had the answers back in kindergarten…but they were neither right nor wrong.

It doesn’t matter where I am: under my blanket, in the shower, aboard the metropolis train, walking to my office, guiltlessly devouring nutella sandwich at our lone table at home, or out somewhere a space only I knew of. My kindergarten teacher’s question would haunt me like a creepy mischievous shadow, “When you grow up, what would you want to be?” And in like a snap, I’d see an imaginary canvass, white and clean. Empty.

I had the answers when I was a kid – a pocketful of confident answers. And I must have told my teacher of them with a wide grin unveiling my carefree broken smile. Now that I’m a grownup, I would usually catch myself in chunks of introspection and retrospection, and how the thoughts weave themselves together often throws me a full-blown smack kicking me out from my own life. Mind-boggling realizations, often irritating, but a fairly good way to kill time.

At this point in my life, where [perhaps] I’m supposed to have already figured what I would want to do for the next half a century, I’m only finding myself stuck with a fair display of options, not with a headstrong decision. Admittedly, I would want to become all of my many options: a fashion designer, a wedding planner, a businesswoman, a novelist, a marketing director, a professor, a performer, an actress (kidding), a photographer, a surfing champ, a painter, a diva, an all-genre dancer, an interior designer, a genius and all other versions I’ve imagine of myself. But fine – there’s no way I can be everybody, that’s absolutely and regretfully understood.

I recall the main point of Dr. Meg Jay’s book, The Defining Decade. It implies that the twentysomething stage is so crucial in the sense that the decisions one makes at this twentysomething period are what would stir up all the succeeding decades of one’s life. It may not apply to everyone but it makes sense, doesn’t it? Reading that book put on a lot of pressure to my self-evaluation. In fact, it got pretty scary I wanted to shred the pages to stick-thin strips and burn them all to ashes without a chance for revival. Scary because if my kindergarten teacher would come asking me again, “When you grow up, what would you want to be?”, I would only see myself laying down the cards – my many options for my future (which has now arrived as the present); one card representing each of my dream figure – and I’d stop there. “I don’t know.” Bad news is I’m most likely just a few days away to my future. Maybe even too late to figure my shit out.

Such an anxiety-infected circumstance ain’t new but is rather ironic coming from someone adored for being smart, gifted, multi-talented. That’s the picture (with no intentions to brag, just a little bit) and perhaps the problem of indecision rooted from the burden of having multiple choices. I recall an artist mom mentioned that to me and I also recall agreeing to it right then and there. My family, friends, workmates and my boss recognize my skills and it does flatter me to know so. How could I not feel grand about being praised, sometimes even overly? My heart would swell up, but true as well that the praises would oftentimes make me lose my breath – and palpitate. Maybe it’s just me, but they often come in as overwhelming I could barely handle. Then that would set me off questioning myself again, “So which one do I do best?”…”I don’t know.” But I honestly want to do all. But knowing that I just can’t, there is then the fear of missing out on all the other in favor of one. Or two.

Then there was Aristotle, Benjamin Franklin, Leonardo da Vinci, Einstein, name the all-time geniuses. They were all over the early society, each of them an authority in almost all disciplines, the renowned in every profession. They were everybody that they wanted to be. Nah, never mind, my argument would surely come invalid though. Apparently, I’m no genius, end of story (and that’s f$@#-all-geniuses frustrating!). :D

Now, after many chances of skimming through my brain lobes, nodes and membrane – I actually just mean my thoughts – I realize I have been looking only at my dreams with the challenges prerequisite to them, but not at every possibility that could unfold like a red carpet that would lead me to my glory days. Because honestly, I doubt my own gifts. And I bow down to my fears, which is equally the same as poisoning my enthusiasm for my dreams. Of course I know all that. I apparently, have this mistaken love for my own fears.

Tomorrow I still won’t have it all figured out. But the thing I’m quite sure of is that I don’t need a time machine to go back to kindergarten and collect the answers I once had. No, that little kid didn’t know much, not even enough. Perhaps a few more twists and turns, then I’ll get myself an answer as to who I would want to be for the most part of my life.

It’s a whole new world I’m in now, totally different from my playfully colorful kindergarten. And it looks like I’m going to need a whole new set of answers.

Wish me well, folks! :)
Love, Ayna

Dreams under renovation

Man of Tai Chi and Tiger Chen: A Amateur Commentary

Bear with me, I’m no good at movie reviews or commenting on an actor’s screen performance but I’m gonna have to try for my newest favorite kung fu flick, Man of Tai Chi – Keanu Reeves’s directorial debut in 2013, starred by Tiger Hu Chen.

Three pointers and this is done.

One: Unless I misunderstood it, there was a tiny loophole in pointing out the fine line between a fighter and a warrior. In the introductions before Tiger’s fight with the twins, the script said that while one fights for reason, the other fights for purpose. It might have been part of the intentionally discreet logic and the brain-racking part, as to who was the fighter and who was the warrior. And it could only be just me, but I found that point falling short of clarification. If you look at it just through the surface, Tiger must be the warrior fighting to save his temple – a great purpose – by money’s way. Plus, “warrior” sounds more fit for a lead character than “fighter”. But it wasn’t about that of course. And it wasn’t bad at all, I mean the vagueness of that part. In fact, it was some kind of a stirrer, at least for me.

I found an alternative way though of understanding the logic behind it. I took it that it was Tiger’s fight against himself, and not against the twins. If you think of it, Tiger was both a fighter and a warrior in the story. A warrior who wanted to save the temple, he would sooner or later become the heir of. He wanted to tell the world that Tai Chi is not just a lousy form of exercise and meditation for the old. He wanted to tell the world that Tai Chi is powerful. And maybe part of his purpose was also to lift his family? On the other hand, when Donaka Mark (Keanu) asked Tiger after one of his underground fights, why he wins, Tiger said, “Because I’m better.” Reason. Of a fighter. Or I could be wrong. That’s how it appeared to me at least. Mr. Tiger Chen, please confirm. 😊

Two: Not wanting to rather have Tiger died in the end (because I love movies where the good man always lives and the bad forever dead, hahaha), but what if Tiger died in one of his fights? What if some other fighter or warrior happened to be “better”? But just what if? Then how would the movie have ended? Except really sad.

Three: Despite some comments that Tiger was a bit too stiff in his acting, I totally loved how he played around the Man of Tai Chi’s character naturally. Not the kick ass, murderous fighter, but the way he seemed so detached from the worldly. I like how the aura appears to be so peaceful yet strong at the same time. Tiger was Yin and Yang in the entire movie. Rooms for improvement, yes, but as far as how he did in Man of Tai Chi, Tiger nailed it!!!

Very honestly, I think he is by far the most graceful Kung Fu martial artist I’ve known, apart from Jackie Chan being the funniest. Two thumbs up for Tiger and may Kung Fu live long through you! :)

Man of Tai Chi and Tiger Chen: A Amateur Commentary