maybemarianne

[maybemarianne]

yellow

Date: 9 February 2024

February was never a favorite. I never really remembered celebrating this month without having to recall loss. Two years ago, I almost lost my body to death, my parents lost their marriage, we lost a relative on both sides, I lost trust in myself, in love, in life, and so many losses out there. Loss. Loss. Loss, everything I lost that it took me years to build. Until I started spending the month mourning for the things that could have been if I didn't lose them. I started hating February even more. But unknowingly, you made me love this month slowly. You gave a different meaning to February. You're making me look forward to it every year. And now, maybe it will become one of my favorite times in history already because you exist, you're here, you're alive, and you're in the same lifetime as me. 

Today, I am reminded that there are still happier stories than just mourning for loss. After all the losses I've been through, I'd still thank God because two years after, I gained you. 

I may not be able to celebrate with you but do know that you are always in my prayers.

Thank you for being my Yellow.

I think it’s beautiful how often people used to still write about darkness and losses and mourning after mornings in life despite getting disappointed over and over again. I’ve been through a couple of moments where I mustered up the courage, out of circumstance and not of choice, to stay with people who have showed me only a filtered reflection of themselves; the ideal image inside my mind that I couldn’t kill so I chose to believe instead. I used to be like these people, and maybe still am. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned for the past years of trying to fit in a world of spectrums, it would be this: When everything else doesn’t make sense anymore in knowing people, look through their colors. Do they shine or dim when you’re with them? Do you feel cold? Are their smiles warm enough to make you smile too? What kind of color do you see when they talk to you?

All of these colors… but I hope you can also find someone who, despite usually going in black and gray, with his things in all monochrome, almost as if he is in the middle of an immediate lack of both worlds where nothing about it is fancy or interesting, still ignites the colors in you. I hope he is someone warm and vibrant, whose eyes light up whenever you talk about the things you love the most. I hope you openly radiate with him even more when he randomly makes you laugh with the corniest of jokes. I hope you find someone who makes effort to travel far just to see you. I hope his hugs feel like breathing. I hope he lends you his jacket when you feel cold even if it’s his favorite. I hope he gives you a safe place to come home to, so simple and calming and assuring that you never have to doubt again if you deserve it. Because you really do. I hope he becomes your rest when all else crumbles, even when you know when to stand up for yourself. I hope he always makes you feel like you matter even without ever having to say it out loud. I hope he doesn’t care about showing all his sides to you. I hope you find someone who tries to really take good care of you even if he doesn’t know how to. I hope that despite him being firm and serious, he still never fails to make you happy when he has all the chances in the world. And I hope he sees you as his world. I hope he treats you as his answered prayer. I hope you find someone who is a ray of sunshine personified. I hope you find your own yellow.

Funny enough, I used to hate the color yellow. It’s just too bright. I’ve always held my hopes high and stood up for the images playing inside my mind with dark colors. It’s like I’m collecting all of these keepsakes for my own color bonsai — and people are already part of it, even before meeting them. But hey, here’s to celebrating warmth, in all ways I know and don’t know how to, for as long as this life will allow me… even if that means redefining my own color theory.

Happy Birthday, Yellow. Hopefully someday, I’ll able to write using your real name too.

[maybemarianne]

Decembers are undoubtedly brutal gems, but my heart is happier than it has ever been this time… so here’s to all the good things and small wins I’ve been keeping to myself for the past months. And here’s to the magical moments where I won’t be afraid to show them anymore, bare bones.

I know, the universe sometimes speaks for me through my eyes. Home is where my smile is.

[maybemarianne]

padayon

I feel like I’ve lived several lives already by saying yes to intimidating opportunities I’ve come across, especially with how I envisioned life to be. I would never think of being here, battling with and against the morals of the world, the people around, and the morals carried within one’s self, while trying to understand one character at a time inside the university. But I just wanted to say that it took all of my non-existent grace and confidence to be these characters week after week, field after field, and the realms thereafter. I was never supposed to excel, to take lead — I was only there to prove something. And I think I’m still able to do that, except for the one pivotal thing that was never taken seriously, despite it knocking on my doors multiple times now.

To bridging the gap between hustle and rest. It’s never easy to be in the pedestal, but here we are. Step one of reminding ourselves that there are more beautiful things to look forward to, to still hope for in life. 

[maybemarianne]

gamble

What was once  meant as a longed, caressing hug, a firm handshake, or a fist bump igniting  the current that run from our fingernails to our fates

has now become only a mere look in the eye with short, strangling  breaths; why

did we become gamblers of quick loving and  abandoned places that needed escaping?

Like a threshold that always summons you after I lose; what a bargain  to ask your love in return. 

The labyrinths I built may fall into ruins; but to gamble  is to offer my heart whole, and I am doing it with eyes half-closed.

[maybemarianne]

Paper Town is a kind of homecoming – a part of our becoming. And to our hometowns, we return unapologetically.

Date: 22 June 2023, a final project for Arts 1 Class during Freshmen Year in UP Mindanao.

[maybemarianne]

forgiving fatherhood

I am aware of who I am becoming as a person because of the change I continuously seek — the very change I wanted to see in Papang for the past years too. But in the recent months since I escaped the house, I have gradually outlived my own expectations of how I used to view perfect fatherhood.

I don’t wish for him to console me anymore; I want to console him instead, to wrap my arms around him, say the words I don’t usually say out loud, and never let go of his warry hands — the same hands that, along with Mama’s, carry my way to college, and perhaps, in life too. Papang sometimes failed to step up, especially during the moments when I needed a father the most. But I have gradually learned to become the bigger person in the photograph of our relationship — and that has allowed me to see that he will always be someone who, amidst the lowest of points, still tries and tries.

Papa, you’re doing a really great job, even if you feel like your efforts aren’t enough to suffice us. Thank you for letting me explore things, especially in adulting, and for always supporting whatever I want in life. Thank you for trusting me to study far and always assuring me that it’s okay to fail; I shouldn’t be pressured. Above all, thank you for giving us the life that you have always wanted to have, even if that means setting aside yourself first. We still have a long way to go but I can’t wait for the day that I can finally give back to our family, because you guys deserve everything. I pray for your good health and happiness always, Pang.

Happy Father’s Day!

[maybemarianne]

From one warrior to another...

Date: 14 May 2023

My mom didn’t expect me to be anyone but a nurse — not an iska, not a creative writer, and obviously not a failure.

So when I first fought for my dreams to study a writing course in UP Mindanao when she decided that I should just stay in Mati, I considered that as my first act of rebellion… a disappointing choice to end my medical dreams. It has always been discouraging to see her questioning the path I chose for myself, but never did she tell me to stop, even if that means tirelessly working for multiple jobs just to support me. Until now, I don’t understand how she manages to balance everything and still has time for the family. She is an epitome of the woman I look up to the most.

My mom is a warrior. She always has been. Always meant to be one. And I’m blessed enough to exist with the bravest woman I have ever known – with the kind of bravery I aspire to have in these trying times. She has been fighting all her life — for the past and long, countless defeats used to be her victories. My younger self would remember that she was an OFW in Dubai. She was a social worker. She was a cook. She wholeheartedly helped people even if some thought of it only as her job. She does not own tools to become a warrior, or superpowers to survive… but of all the people I know who fight their battles every single day, she’s the one who always makes life meaningful.

Through her, I’ve seen the best examples of resilience, strength, and beauty. She is courageous in a way that the world cannot defeat. She always puts others first before herself. I’m blessed enough to look like Mamang (even if she looks way younger than me) because that just means I can hope to be half as brave as she is.

Mama, I don’t know if you’re still proud of me amidst my stubbornness and indecisiveness, but what I’m certain of is that I’m trying. For you, for Papa, for my sisters. You have given me pressure, and yet so much hope and inspiration, to look forward to a life that’s worth living for in the future. Thank you for making me see the reality at a very young age, and for teaching me sentiments I never knew I needed. Thank you for the home cooked meals when I get home in Mati, for the stories that are worth sharing, and for the life that you have created. Most of all, thank you — not just because you trained me to be tough like you, but also because you taught me that even though there are some battles not worth fighting for, that does not mean I’ll stop fighting for the other ones too. Bravery will always flow in our blood.

From one warrior to another… Happy Mother’s, Ma! Here’s to fighting more battles and surviving life together, one story at a time. The world needs more of us.

[maybemarianne]

ang panibago

Date: 23 May 2023

Sort of a life update. I hope this serves as a testament of me trying to get through life by writing.

I’ve been pretty messed up lately. I’m not feeling my best self. Good does not even define me at all. I haven’t sorted things out the way I always do because I keep inventing different processes to heal myself. It’s always been inconsistent. A long, tiring one. I also figured out that I am socially withdrawn. Some things about being surrounded with people question me. That’s one of the reasons why I chose to lie low in terms of sharing my personal thoughts.

This period in my life is a clear representation of my growth as an individual. My deepest takes on depression and heaviest moments of heart have taken over many moments in college, plus the worst hours of homesickness. I am getting tired of carrying the burdens of my past for so long that I forgot how to live in the present, even at least once.

I know… this is nonsense, as always it is. Yet it opens an incarnation of new identities I slowly embrace as part of my becoming. To be braver and more hopeful. Bold and defiant. Calmer and at pace. I want to fill the coming days with dreams, if not something else, to allow myself to learn and unlearn the realms of life again.

And then, I allow myself to be fragile and make mistakes so I can grow. I allow myself to manifest peace more than pressure. This time, I let all the wasted opportunities come back and find me again in any form. That will show me that my dreams are really worth risking for. Ito ay isang panibago.

[maybemarianne]

sentiments of summer

Date: 7 May 2022, 8:32 PM 

Truth is, I really really don’t know how to start this entry at all. I’ve been thinking of ways to write something formally but it just shows that my impulsiveness takes over all the time.

It’s not yet the last day of the month. I still have days left to say goodbye to end it – but several things have gone out of control, and I could not say I want to finish May in a happier state anymore.

Almost a month of reflecting, I arrived in some situations where I no longer want to remember again. I’ve been through a lot this month and it felt like I was anchored on mountains that I can never move freely. It took me a while to be open about my void and the bigger world outside it. Consider a situation where you handle all things at once – from the loss of words, the amount of effort you put onto something without being reciprocated, the doubting of potential, the slowly opening of walls and closing it again for personal reasons, the impulsive reactions due to emotional moments, the heartbreak, and so much more that I may or may not share in just a single entry.

The heartbreak has been both a hurting, and for decency, a humbling experience that I think allowed me to grow as an individual. My emotions have slowly bottled me up in ways that suffocated my void at some point, hence the mess I had to fix even if I was also a mess, a fragile person who needed fixing the most. But what I learned from a certain perspective — Do not arrive in situations that will encourage you to utter words that can worry a person regardless of what your emotions tell you. Do not make decisions when you are feeling the peak of what you feel – because they tend to be the less logical ones, and certainly the most impulsive.

[maybemarianne]

Growth is Tiring

Date: 7 September 2022, 6:41 PM

Dear Universe,

I remember how badly I fought for my independence, my growth, my freedom. It almost felt as if it was too impossible to win. Almost.

Until UP Mindanao came.

My mother and I had conversations during the peak of my rebellion. The only thing I ever wanted was to study away from my comfort zone so I could grow. Everyone treated that as impractical, and in a sense, an act of selfishness. I hated the fact that they couldn’t understand what growing means. It took me a long time to even convince them that I am trustworthy; and that the risk will always be worth taking. But it was never easy to begin, and that had led me to allowing my drive to consume my perceptions.

Right, that was my first rebellion. Fighting. Pursuing. Trying. Months after months of proving myself to every single member of the family, it was also then I realized that I was also fighting for myself, not against it. Because in this case, don’t we all fight for the opportunities we think would make us happy? Aren’t we all rebels for the things we love?

It’s midday in Mintal, minutes from now are supposed to be intended for lunch, but I won’t eat. Not now that I am still in a middle of crisis all throughout my self-actualization. Life here has been pretty draining lately. Honestly, it wasn’t the college life I have imagined. For clarity, it is not the type to romanticize at all. I should be writing. I should be doing my tasks. I should be analyzing my readings right now. But also in that certain narrative, there is “I should be growing” peeking in. In a pursuit of wanting myself to grow, here I am, slowly deteriorating in pieces first.

Am I growing?

The major transition from online to blended learning (to now full face-to-face classes) is really hard to adjust with. But even so, I can’t tell my parents that I am tired, because I know they are seemingly more exhausted than I have ever been. I just wanna lay it in whispers, in places where I can shout in silence. I can’t tell everyone that at some point, I wanna quit what I’m doing because this has been a dream. To be here is a dream. I can’t tell them that I want to stop, I want a pause because I wanted this in the first place. I fought for this – I fought for my growth.

“You seek for growth diba?” they always say. But nobody ever told me that growth drains you before you’d experience it in your hands. To the point that the only thing you look forward to, at the end of the day, is a rest that won’t require you to be actually sleeping. Rest in moments. Rest in silence. Rest in laughter, in random moments, in mornings where you wake up late, in your first meal at 4 PM, in spontaneous walks outside the campus, in sneaky drunk stories at 11 pm, in nights where you get to eat your fave cup noodles, and just everything after it.

It’s tiring to visualize where growth will lead me, but I don’t wanna see myself getting stuck in the same chains from my childhood. These discomforts will pave the way for me to grow and be independent… even if it is still a big question mark to digest. I’m really not certain about my life anymore. I just know that my stubbornness is a representation that someone like me, even in the worst of days and the heaviest of challenges, still dares to hope for her dreams.

May I not lose hope in dreaming and becoming.

Marianne