It’s safe to say that most of us have had our hearts broken. I’m not talking about your parents telling you that you’re a big mistake or your friend bailing out on you that one time when there was a raid in that whore house and you were too drunk to make a run for it. No, I’m talking about failed romantic relationships and brutal rejections. It’s a very confusing experience, this heartbreak. This is me trying to make sense of it all.

Well, since my baby left me, I found a new place to dwell. It’s down at the
end of Lonely Street, at Heartbreak Hotel. *stab, stab, cut, cut*

Stage 1: Denial

Someone just broke your heart and you’re like “THIS IS NOT HAPPENING.” You keep telling yourself that this is just a hiccup in your fairy tale romance and it will pass. It’s surreal at first, but the cold hard truth will eventually find its way into your head. It’s over. The initial shock kicks in. It’s over.

Stage 2: Anger

You’re now in a constant “WTF?!” mood. Still trying to figure out what’s happening, you’re like a rabid dog who just lost its chew toy. You’re going to bark at everything. You’re going to bite everything. Your sole purpose in life right now is to write angry emails, post rage-filled Facebook status messages and Twitter updates, draw devil horns on people’s photos and kick puppies IN THE FACE. Casualties: Your friends, your family, your dog and countless innocent Internet bystanders.

Read More

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. I guess a photo not taken is a chunk of story left out, maybe even an entire story never told.

I’m taking a lot of pictures lately, maybe because I started my own Project 365, and I just realized that there were a lot of things, people and moments that I should’ve preserved in a photo. This is why I’m starting this blog series called I Wish I Took A Photo. I’m going to fill in the missing pieces of the story told by a series of photographs I’ve taken. I’m going to start with my recently concluded beach trip with some UPLB MASS brothers and sisters in Tingloy, Batangas (or as I like to call it, Tingloy Awesome Escapade). I left my camera’s battery at home so I was forced to document the 3-day trip with my camera phone. I’m not used to using my phone as a camera. Hence, fewer photos. I’m a dumbass.

I took a photo of the front of the boat on our way to Tingloy from the port of Mabini.

I wish I took a photo of my open fly. The sea breeze felt great down there. I wish I took a photo of our faces while the locals were telling their wacky stories about island life and deadly boat collisions. I wish I took a photo of my sleeping friends. I envied them because I only had 2 hours of sleep. I wish I took a photo of the boat captain’s face every time he yelled at me because I was blocking his view. He was like “I can’t see, boy!” and I was like “Whatever.”

Read More