Tag Archives: Diary Entries

An angel’s touch




I AM crying. I cannot stop crying.


Dear God, please help me ease my pain. I don’t want to hurt others through my pain. Please, send me someone whom I can fully trust, someone whom I can fully express my feelings to. Someone whom I know does not judge but listen with open ears. Someone whom I feel safe to be around with.

Someone who I can love.

I don’t want to cry every night like this anymore. My face is starting to show. 

Please, please… Send me someone with whom I can find comfort. Someone who keeps his word. Someone who means all the things he says.

In this night’s thunders and storms, I cannot take it anymore…

I’ve committed to death and a lifetime of dedication to my life’s purpose. 

Please do send me an angel. 




SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries



When the sun shines we’ll shine together



I AM smiling.

One thing that I’m grateful about this morning? It’s not that important. But it is quite something to note to me.

I’m really fortunate.

I went into Walgreens this morning, the one on Mission. Well, actually, I was scurrying as soon as I got off the 38-Geary bus on Kearny’s stop, and it was raining quite heavily and I was drenched in my hooded sweater once I got to Mission street. San Francisco has been shining for too long, I guess.

I found no umbrellas left once I’m in Walgreens. Luckily, instead of looking for another Walgreens right away, I bought all the stuff I needed to buy on my weekend shopping list (which I carry around in my multifunctional notebook). 

Once I was ready to checkout, the cashier guy smiled earnestly to me. I handed the cash, and I asked: “You don’t have anymore umbrellas, do you?” And he smiled even wider and said, “The Sun has already came up. You won’t need anymore umbrella for the day! Now you can go to your class.” (He wished me a great day too, with a very sincere smile, or you can call me naive). 

Thank God all the umbrellas sold out when I got there in the first place.



SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

What happened today that I’m grateful about



I AM gratified.



1) I got 9 hours of sleep. Though not straight hours of sleep, but it’s 9.

2) I got time for some intimate sharing with my friend, Maria, while in the BART on our way home from Sunday church. We see each other eye-to-eye, after a couple of years being mere classmates. Plus, I was blessed by the visiting Pastor, because he prayed for my goodwill.

3) My boyfriend and I got to talk about our private matters in our private areas (Like, sexually). After all, today is our three-month mark, and we still have forever to go for the upcoming sexciting events to come. We discuss things openly, that’s what I’m glad about. Most couples don’t do that.


SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

A moment of gratitude for today



I AM thinking of good things.



As an attempt to reduce my worries and plentiful negative thoughts, I’m writing down some of the good things that happened to me today.

I video chat with my boyfriend. He looks at me the same way he looks at me when we first met. He looks after me as if I’m the most precious thing in his life, which I am. I’m someone special to someone else, and I have a special someone in my life in return too. We share, we grow together, and we nurture this relationship further. As of tomorrow, we’ll be reaching the 3-month mark. It won’t be an itch if God is the center of our relationship.

I also exercised for 2 straight hours today. It has been a while since I’ve last worked out that long. I’m frankly quite surprised I am still strong enough to achieve that, especially from a night of not getting enough sleep.



SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

Long mane was the truth; while I’m growing my hair back, graduation is coming soon too.




I AM thinking while I’m in school.




They don’t suck.

They suck because I have no responsibility; no sense of self, not centered at all, not grounded, just pretty much free and flyin’.

Last year, at my lowest, through my severest depression, my locks are even shorter.

I’m struggling to graduate from my college by next year.

In-between these two brief, short moments and hair lengths, I had my longest hair ever.

I also had the best time of my life, living in my best body. OK I just lied. I am having the best relationship of my life right now, just not in the best body.

I was disciplined about a lot of things. I was myself, trying to achieve the best self inside and out. And indeed; I was the best, and I knew that.

I was also pompous; even more self-seeking.

Now it’s onlt that I know there’s nothing to seek other than the Almighty.

I don’t want to be a hypocrite. I don’t want to lie. I want to bear the truth, say the truth, and nothing but the bare, naked truth. And I also want my long mane back. 

And now, back to school.




SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

Drive your feelings, it’s a do or die.

…because knowing the end is the surefire way to move forward right.

I AM screaming.





Screaming in my head. I want to yell. I want to shout out loud. I want to kick some ass and box some nose. But I can’t.

I’M SUPPOSED TO BE A GIRL. I’m born one. Just sometimes quite unlucky enough to have a naturally higher testosterone levels than most girls.

You can tell by the length proportion of my fingers. They’re long, lean, and my index and ring fingers are relatively similar in length compared to most women I have observed in real life. ”The links with sports are the strongest I’ve found,” explains British psychologist John Manning to USA Today. ”They’re particularly strong with endurance running.”

No wonder I’m physically more resilient than most women I know. But that’s not my point here.

To the world, I am just one tiny little dot. And I’m still shutting up and listening.

BUT, I DO WRITE. I hope to write down other things besides my anger. These emotions in my head I know I cannot control. There are so many things beyond your locus of control in life, but there are just some things that makes you more emotionally vulnerable. 

Why does everybody keep telling what not to do? What not to do? What not to do? What NOT to do?

As a matter of fact, I almost wrote a sentence from the last paragraph as “I hope NOT to write down …” Here’s my problem: Even though I’m physically resilient, my emotions run wild and free whenever I run, I am less emotionally resilient. For the solution, I keep this diary of mine as another way to move on from my negative feelings, because it’s just a bad idea to dwell on negative feelings, and I don’t feel comfortable either. Really.

Although I know that the world loves to scream at you back that you’re not supposed to do this, or you’re not supposed to be that, or you’re not this or you’re not that. You’re a nobody.

But I guess that’s just a test of what real endurance means.

As a fellow practitioner of positive psychology, Martin Seligman reinforced me to think about the positive things out of every situation, then reinforce the positive people who have made the situation happen. Sure, Reed is now my boyfriend, although for some reason, Sean keeps coming back into the picture. But instead of thinking about the love of my life, or the life that depends upon someone else, I’d like to think that everything I do is ultimately a self-fulfilling prophecy, because I believe in it.

I BELIEVE IN CREATING A LIFE enriched by my active voice, my valuable voice. I guess it’s the sum of money I actively value-add through the act of writing, while I’m thinking about killing myself.


Should I actively kill myself, or should I let it bow down to me with a passive voice? I guess that’s the closest way I can get in order to think positively right now.

In every bad feelings I emote just because somebody tells me what to NOT to do, after being the youngest one in every situation and not just in my own family, I am aware that I’ve been taken preventive care, because the world is indeed full of shit. Yes, I’m aware of that. My whole life I’ve been told what NOT to do. NOT to move, NOT to get into an art school, NOT to date anybody, NOT to do things until you understand. Ironically, it’s by DOING SOMETHING that you come to understand. You have to be young and stupid to be old and wise.

JUST A COUPLE OF WEEKS AGO, I’ve just learned how to drive a car properly. Now not afraid to drive alone, even at night. 

Yesterday, however, due how much fragile these bottled up feelings are, which is the case for most women, I was driving at a high speed with my brother by my side. He disappointed me yet again, this is not the first time. My blood was pumping high when he didn’t show some responsibility in alarming situations. When he disappointed me for how he reacted when he found out I have a boyfriend, I think it was just me trying to expect something that I know I won’t get. But yesterday, he overtook his emotions and throw it against me, saying that he just didn’t feel like going. Just didn’t feel like it. Just did NOT feel like it.

Last night, I drove at the highest speed and rammed the car on its highest. I exhausted the car’s fumes as if I’m releasing my rage while keeping my mouth shut. The traffic was unbearable but the motorcycles and cars taking over me and all did NOT matter. What matters is the question of my emotional resilience: How can I get over feeling this bad?

So I just go along and take risky turns from left to right but still going really fast. I have to be on time and that’s the most important thing. What matters is not taking somebody else’s life.

Including the person sitting right beside me.

NO MATTER HOW MUCH ANGER I FEEL because of certain people, or certain situations, I know I hold the responsibility for their lives to a certain degree, no matter how big or small. Saying things to people you are related to physically or emotionally, negative things like “I want to kill myself” or “I wish I was never born” is completely unhealthy. The Bible also said that it’s not right to kill. I figured, not even yourself.

Sometimes it’s a pain, really, to deal with shit. My momma even told me: “You see all the motorcycles on the street? The angkot? The public bus? They can prevent you from moving forward anytime they want, however they want, so just let them go. Once you’ve lost sight of them, you’ll move forward even better. If not, always find a way out.

True, they always say when there’s a will, there’s a way.

“Just think of them as shit. Ignore them and they’ll pass you by.”

I was awe-strucked. She never really said the word ‘shit’ before in my entire life, not at least in front of me. After nagging me things I should NOT do my entire life, she learned that the right way to teach me is to encourage me, not to prevent me, and that shows care.

She has really changed over the years. She deals with her feelings so well. And I know I must too.

And my will is to die, honorably.

My pen is a torchlight. I am invisible.

My soul is no-thing. Yet, of me the fire inside burns forever.

And before my soul is buried under the deathbed I shall do whatever it takes to withstand the tests of time and thrust through the linear successions we are all innately capable of moving called LIFE. That was my oath to death.

AFTER WRITING THIS ENTRY, I finally realized the problem: I learn better through reinforcement rather than punishment, or anything closer to punishment. When my mother seated beside me while I was driving, I always feel strong. She privately prayed for my safety in the temple, but in front of me, she has my best interest at heart. 

“You have to keep pushing yourself so that you have no fear. Take control of the car. You control the car. It leads you to where you want to be. There is no right or wrong way to drive, but you have to drive safely because you are dealing with life and death.”

Instead of a constant negative reinforcement whispering behind my back, I do better at occasional positive reinforcements about my strength.

So I guess that’s why I get so angry. And after some thinking, I’m now calmer. Thus the saying writing is thinking.

 Phew. (Note: Emotional resilience is not a trait. It’s a process. It’s a way people cope with life’s most annoying obstacles).

SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

I saw mommy dancing with Santa Claus.

…because knowing the end is the surefire way to move forward right.

I AM watching.


WATCHING OVER my mom, watching her moves and her facial expression. Well, actually, it’s not Santa. It was just a man. A younger man. Who’s not a father trying to lie to his children and dress up in a big, fat, red and bushy man.

I’ve never seen my mom dance like that. Her arms swing effortlessly, her legs bouncing beautifully, her soul moving along with the music, twirling across the room as the man led her in his hands.

They went over Cha Cha, Rumba, Jive, and other Latin dances, and I sat still in the corner, preferring to watch the beautiful face that gave birth to the flesh and blood my soul is living and breathing in right now.

I’VE NEVER SEEN THAT FACE BEFORE, except when I was very young, about 8 years old or so, when I used to relax on the King-sized bed in my parents’ room. Embedded on the bedstand was a stereo system. My mommy and daddy used to ask me a favor every night: To put on the Cha Cha music on the cassette player. Grudgingly, I put it on. I was so relaxed, and now they’re going to dance it off.

But, as soon as they began to dance, I love watching how my daddy led each and every tiny movement of my mother. He held her tight in his arms, and my mother would free her body and soul across all directions, and then her big eyes and her wide smile would look at me, and then back to my daddy, and my daddy would look down, close his eyes, and open it again and let out a smile.

Although the music is just horrible to me.

THIS YOUNGER MAN I’m looking at right now is, no doubt, a man with charisma. He held the power to unveil the beauty and health and youth within the aging woman who has been so tirelessly looking after three children, now all grownup. I don’t know what it is about this man; he just come right in to our home and introduce himself to the house as if he’s some old friend or something; but he taught me how to Salsa though.

My mom sweats like a young athlete breaking into the Olympics at her blooming age, her eyes beaming whenever she moves toward me, wide and clear as if I saw the skies beyond these years unbroken. The music playing in the background keeps interrupting my thoughts; so does my BlackBerry Messenger.

JUGGLING BETWEEN TWO MEN (and/or more), is something that I will never know how to do, or how to deal with. I don’t understand how my mommy does it, but I know for sure that happiness is just a state of mind and never an ending; you can actually learn to put yourself to work and negotiate your feelings with two or more people as you move along with life, but love is so precious, how can I separate my soul into pieces, don’t they turn into broken dreams?

Or maybe, I just don’t fit the modern definition of how love “works”. I’m afraid to give up my soul again, and the possibility of getting hurt. I have been doing well behind my bushy fringe and long hair and that silly sunglasses I always put on everywhere I go. At the same time, I keep my beauty and my health and my youth in check by hitting the gym most of the week. I let go of these things whenever I run for two, three hours outside, outdoors, when nobody would notice me, when nobody would know I exist. I run free, and that’s the best feeling anyone can ever have, or give, or receive, even if it’s just 2 hours, or more.

Am I willing to give up these armors of mine again? So strong I’ve built these walls and now knowing that it’s about to crash any day, any time in the near future.

I’M WATCHING THE SCREEN. My arms are trembling. Sean and Reed are calling. 

How can I trust others when I haven’t trust myself enough yet to move forward? Or sideways? Or, anywhere, for that matter?

No matter how things can go wrong, no one can ever replace the daddy that used to buy me enchanting Cinderella castles and pretty Barbie dolls, the one who used to hold my mother so tight she might as well become some precious gemstone, say, diamonds.


SALUNA is signing off.

Saluna and her stories: View all / Diary entries

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