i won't worry my life away

confronting thoughts and embarking on different adventures, one moment at a time

Usually, the simplest things in life are the most important ones. Simple life lessons goes a long way & builds a great character.

The Renegade Rulebook

A few months ago, I featured a post titled “Ten Things I Learned From My Mom.” I’ve spent the last few weeks reflecting, and decided that I also wanted to feature a similar post dedicated to my father. I’m fortunate enough to have two loving parents that I am very close with, and I hope some day that I can take everything I’ve learned from them, and apply it to my own parenting techniques.

1. Kick ‘Em Where It Hurts

In first grade, I came off the school bus hysterically crying. My dad met me at the top of our driveway, tried to console the sobbing little human peeking timidly up at him from underneath her bangs, while clutching her ninja turtle lunch box. After he asked me what was wrong, I explained that another boy on the bus had been saying mean things to me. My dad told me…

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Do What You Love. I know, right? 😛

Live & Learn

We’ve all either given or received the career advice: “Follow your dreams.”  “Do what you love.”  “Love what you do.”

Recently, there have been an increasing number of counterarguments making the case that if we were all going to “do what we love,” we’d starve doing it.

I came across a 2006 post by Paul Graham: “How To Do What You Love” that offers what may be the best thought-leadership on the subject that I have read.

Graham is an essayist, programmer, and investor. In 1995, he co-developed the first web-based application, Viaweb, which was acquired by Yahoo in 1998. He has an AB from Cornell and a PhD in Computer Science from Harvard, and studied painting at RISD and the Accademia di Belle Arti in Florence.  Graham’s blog is one of the most followed in the blogosphere.

It is an essay (longish for those of us with…

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When Death and Pictures Catch Up on You

Today is one of those gloomy days. It’s just sad, unfortunately.

The past few days have been normal, except for the triggering of my thoughts and emotions, on illness, death, heaven, and the relationships we build with other people. The new movie of Kate Hudson, “A Little Bit of Heaven”, and Robin Williams’ “What Dreams May Come” definitely warmed me up.


I’ve been thinking of what’s heaven like, lately. Then, of chances on how I might die. I’ve also been thinking, what if I, too, have pre-existing conditions, like cysts hidden somewhere. Would I undergo treatment? Or just savor my last days and accept death? All of these thoughts, the thought of how I’d feel, how my family and friends might or might not feel breaks my heart.

Karl Roy, one of my favorite local vocalist died last night. We were not close and I don’t believe we’ve even met yet in person. But he has been my favorite, the only local act (with no disrespect to others) that I have allowed myself to buy an album of–POT (don’t judge me, I have yet to buy other artists’ CDs eventually). His music has really made an impact to me. I am not one to judge what he did in the past, nor what had really happened. Regardless, I know and feel that he lived a good life, a life that he adored, have given thought of, learned from, shined through and much more, a life full of passion through his music which touched our hearts too. In that way, he shared his life with us, those who’ve met him, seen him, heard him, and just know of him.

photo by pelicola.tv

RIP Karl Roy

It’s been almost 3 years that I’ve been an expat here in Dubai, thus, leaving all my family and friends in my hometown, and making new friends here and strengthening my relationship with those who are far behind. Trust me, I am very much grateful for all the blessings that I have right now, and I am happy having crossed paths with different people, whether they’re just acquaintances who are passing by, or friends that have stayed.

But as I look at the photos of the people that I’ve left behind, I know that in the lost time that I haven’t spent with them, they’ve moved on–without me. Them, mostly getting married, with my other friends as their guests or entourage, makes me wonder, “if I was there, would I have been a part of that too?”. Not that I really wanna be a part of the program, but metaphorically speaking, if I was still a part of the “close friends” that they used to treat me as, back when I still haven’t left.



It just hurts when you see them happy even with your absence, like you’ve been forgotten even though you’re not. There are only a few friends that I think have maintained the same level of friendship with me, even though I’ve been gone for quite some time. Maybe we’ve already been accepting of the way we’ve maintained our friendship–one time big time convo/gathering. I know I am also at fault here, not just because of the physical distance that is between us now, but probably because I too have moved on the moment I adapted to my new environment, and haven’t really maintained that level of commitment to the friendship I used to have with them. I know I can’t put the blame on myself alone, but for some reason, I feel that I am largely at fault.

I am a good friend, and I do believe that. But usually, even at friendship, I can’t help but be a slacker. I am a devoted friend but at the same time, I get tired, unfortunately. I adapt to what’s in front of me at the present and move on. And whether the gap has been driven by two people, I know how I am at fault, because of my nature of semi-dwelling and of forcing myself to adapt to the present in order to eliminate the hurt that the past might bring. Either that, or because of this delusion that I am at a better place.

I know it’s not yet too late for me to catch up with them, the loved ones I’ve left behind, because I am still alive. Again, I just feel a bit sad, knowing and seeing in pictures how happy they are… far far away. While I’m still alive, I know that I can still make amends. Maybe I’m feeling just all emo right now, maybe I’ll change my mind, maybe I’ll accept things and then move on… I honestly don’t know.

I miss the good old days. Truly. But I don’t think I’d change my decision of moving away. What I’d probably change is how I would try in maintaining the relationship I used to have with them. The path of how and where to move on from here NOW relies on me. Can’t change back the past. Can only act on the present and define the future.

Here’s a song by one of Karl Roy’s Band, POT, entitled “Piece of This”.

“No more loneliness… No more emptiness… No more melancholy… Have a piece of this”

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Be Present

After writing about a few paragraphs a few minutes ago, I accidentally hit the back button (or must I say the backspace–which is also a shortcut for the “back” button). Multiply, unfortunately doesn’t have an autosave, unlike in wordpress or simply, word document.

Makes me appreciate the beauty of pen and paper even more.

Okay. So moving on…

To look back and review the past could either be helpful or destructive, depending on how we let things affect us.

I wish I kept a journal since the day I started being “creative” with words, since I started learning about the beauty of emotions, since the day I knew how to write. It would’ve been meditative to read about past thoughts at present. Thoughts of the past reminding us how we’ve become what we are, and why, for that matter.

But those years are long gone. And I didn’t have the urge to do it back then. The idea of saying “dear diary” creeps me out, for I thought that writing to a notebook/journal meant that I’d have to tell stories of how my day went.

Blogging. I started back when livejournal was still a sort of underground community. There weren’t that many blogs back then, not that I know of. I thank my good friend Ida for sharing this to me. I can’t remember my earlier entries, but I’m pretty much sure that some of it talked about Incubus, a boy, and just emo shit. It could be pretty embarrassing to share it now if I get a chance to track it.

For me, to blog online is to have an outlet to share thoughts, ideas, knowledge, randomness, interests, and much more. I’ve always thought of it merely to share. As I patronize other people’s post and feel connected especially when I share the same sentiments, I thought I’d do the same. It is very rewarding to have something to share with, with people from a few meters or a thousand miles away. I tried to be be just a random face (to be visible yet invisible in the interweb) as much as possible, so as not to be “conscious” of blogging about my thoughts/emotions. To just blog away. But still, I hold back in “typing away…”. I don’t really get interested reading some “stuff”, so, when I am in that kind of “stuff”, I hold back and try not to post it away. By stuff, I usually mean rants, grievances, etc.

Rants. I get a bit disturbed reading stuff like this. Yes, I know. It’s freedom of expression, and the web could be a good outlet for this. With billions of users, we could all rant away without being noticed, and feel free about it. The web allows us to a convenient method of self expression. But sometimes, reading it is unhealthy. Thus, I refrain from posting about this now. I’d rather not backread my shit only to find out I was resentful back then.

Pen and Paper.
As I couldn’t get back the years of not writing, I think of it as a good memory. Thank God for pictures being developed for the good part of my development years. Gone are the years when people get enthusiastic with film and printed pictures. It’s all about facebook and tagging now. The anticipation of printing only to find out it wasn’t your great angle almost does not exist. And so I write. I started a week ago. I used to write literally when I got my travel journal from a friend, as a farewell gift. But then it didn’t really kick in. Telling my day’s travel story is better written (or typed) with pictures. A notebook is better written with thoughts, whatever it may be.

I wish I started writing when I first learned to feel and to react, when I started making up stories (for a creative writing elective, and that filipino subject i was too lazy to attend to back in college–“alamat ng rosas”). I wish I wrote thoughts down. Have I done it, would I have chosen a different path and be at a different place now? This thought, I haven’t really thought of, not until now. But I dare not find the answer. There’s no reason for me to dwell about it now.

All I can do is to be here, now. Be present. Everyday is a fresh start, with new choices, new moments, new thoughts, new actions, and new reactions. To write about my thoughts now is what’s important now. To understand and feel things now, is what’s important.

For the past years, I’ve stumbled upon different reading materials. Some are written just recently. Some however, are dated back years ago. I don’t wish to have been able to be a follower of that reading back when it all started, when it was still in its active high state. All I could do now is just read it, and allow it to enhance the neurons in my brain and positively brush some thoughts in it.

Again, no dwelling.

It isn’t really important if the things we bump to, stumble upon, or come across are ages ago. It isn’t important if we didn’t do the-things-that- we-know-could’ve-help-us-cultivate-our-current-to-future(longterm)-shit back then. We are what we are now because of the things we did and didn’t do. Stop wishing this and that. Instead, be present and do it now.

I wish I’ve started writing since back then. I didn’t. And so I started writing now. And I’m very grateful for the opportunity to start NOW.

I wish I practice more guitar back when I got it 12 years ago. I wish I took care of it and nurtured my artistic side. I didn’t. But now I am learning, practicing more often. Realistic goals, realistic results.

I wish I didn’t buy bottled water every lunch when I get the chance back then, and instead, brought reusable bottle or something like that. I was conscious about it before but not conscious enough to actually do something about it. Now, I am doing something about it.

I know I have a lot of things I wish I’ve done. It’s somewhere lying in the back of my brain. I’ll update myself later.

The past is the past, and I wish, yet I know, I can’t do anything about it. So I dare not to bother dwelling about it. Won’t do me any good.

I choose to be present. Now. I know what I didn’t do and I know now what I want to do.

The effect of the past is only good if we allow it to push us forward to be present now.

Fuck tomorrow. Life is about our moment now.

Reflect on how you feel now and share your light and your positivity.

To shine your light now is what’s important.

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Nina Badzin's Blog

Since my mom has always been passionate about her jobs and her hobbies, it’s fitting that she agreed to write a post for my blog’s hobbies and habits series.

When I think of my parents, I see the theater, the symphony, and their love of art from modern to tribal. (There’s a six foot-tall giraffe in my parents’ entryway and scary masks in the family room). I see their many excursions, trips you’d never find me on like observing the polar bear migration in Manitoba. I also think of the many greyhounds they’ve saved. And then there’s the activities they each pursue alone, too many to list here.

Instead of having my mom discuss her many hobbies, however, I asked her to address the issue of knowing what you want to “be when you grow up.” I know parents who want something in addition to raising their kids, or people…

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