It's been three years and I haven't taken myself back since then.

I am not happy having my kids around and that's the truth. I've been trying my best to accept that I am now a mom of two boys. It used to dream having kids of my own but having them right now feels like doom to me.

I admire those women who seem to be very proud and content being a mom. I AM NOT. I WANT to want to become a mom. I even pretend to be complete with them but im NOT.

People don't see what I have become right now. My family never in a moment felt my emptiness. I am busy earning not for living but for surviving-for the responsibilities of being a mom that has become a burden to me.

It's been a long time that I've been empty. I REGRET everything that happened three years ago. It destroyed me. It changed me. I am SHATTERED and no one ever noticed.

Many times I have thought of leaving this world my way and it seems easy. Friends and famous people have done it. Look, they're spared from all those pains they were hiding from.

Imagine an unknown world where everything speaks of bliss...completeness...serenity. A place that offers the meaning of existence-where you don't need anyone to understand and fill your being.

Don't judge those who chose to end their lives- they have reasons only like them understand.

I am so tired of all the noise.

There's NO peace in here.



my favorite PABLO NERUDA poems

Every time I read his pieces, I get the feeling that he loves a woman with all that speak about real romanticism...his words envelope a reader with faith that somehow someone could love a woman with such intensity :) 

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.

Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars,
and the stars, blue, shiver in the distance."

The night wind whirls in the sky and sings.

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like this, I held her in my arms.
I kissed her so many times under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her.
How could I not have loved her large, still eyes?

I can write the saddest poem of all tonight.
To think I don't have her. To feel that I've lost her.

To hear the immense night, more immense without her.
And the poem falls to the soul as dew to grass.

What does it matter that my love couldn't keep her.
The night is full of stars and she is not with me.

That's all. Far away, someone sings. Far away.
My soul is lost without her.

As if to bring her near, my eyes search for her.
My heart searches for her and she is not with me.

The same night that whitens the same trees.
We, we who were, we are the same no longer.

I no longer love her, true, but how much I loved her.
My voice searched the wind to touch her ear.

Someone else's. She will be someone else's. As she once
belonged to my kisses.
Her voice, her light body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, true, but perhaps I love her.
Love is so short and oblivion so long.

Because on nights like this I held her in my arms,
my soul is lost without her.

Although this may be the last pain she causes me,
and this may be the last poem I write for her.
Don't go far off, not even for a day, because --
because -- I don't know how to say it: a day is long
and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station
when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.

Don't leave me, even for an hour, because
then the little drops of anguish will all run together,
the smoke that roams looking for a home will drift
into me, choking my lost heart.

Oh, may your silhouette never dissolve on the beach;
may your eyelids never flutter into the empty distance.
Don't leave me for a second, my dearest,

because in that moment you'll have gone so far
I'll wander mazily over all the earth, asking,
Will you come back? Will you leave me here, dying?

John Hay "the Man"

The invitation to listen to a "historian" was never appealing,at least to me. Heeding to the request of our marketing officer to join and listen to what the speaker has to say about Camp John Hay was merely answering to the call of duty.

The setting was informal, we had the discussion at the Master's bedroom at the Bell House, Camp John Hay (heightening the fear for total boredom). The speaker seem old to be interesting. There was no visual materials that will motivate us.

But we were totally in reverence when she started talking about things that most of us didn't know.

Camp John Hay is generally known as a resort on a mountain top where the famous golf club, log homes, the Ayala TechnoHub, the Manor and the trails are located. Everything is prima facie. But little did we know about why the Camp was named after a Mr. John Milton Hay. Or why the Bell House was name as such when there's not a single bell inside the more than a century old house.

It used to be a major hill station used for rest and recreation for personnel of the United States Armed Forces in the Philippines as well as United States Department of Defense employees.


Camp John Hay may have been the first place in the Philippines bombed by Japan in World War II. At 8:19 a.m. on December 8, 1941 – December 7 on the Hawaii side of the International Date Line – seventeen Japanese bombers attacked Camp John Hay killing eleven soldiers, American and Filipino, and several civilians in the town of Baguio.[1]

The first response of John Hay’s commander, Col. John P. Horan, was to order all the several hundred Japanese residents of Baguio rounded up and interned in two damaged barracks on the base. The Japanese pleaded with Horan not to confine themselves in a place likely to bombed again. The one thousand American and Filipino soldiers at Camp Hay made little effort to defend Baguio from the advancing Japanese invaders. They abandoned the area on December 24, destroying most of their weapons and equipment and leaving the Japanese internees locked up without food and water. The soldiers left former Mayor, E.J. Halsema, in charge and he and Elmer Herold, another American resident of Baguio, provided food and water to the Japanese internees.

The Japanese army marched into Baguio unopposed the night of December 27.[2] About 500 civilians, the great majority Americans, were interned by the Japanese at Camp John Hay in the same barracks where the Japanese had been interned.[3] About 40 percent were missionaries from 22 different denominations, some who had recently fled China and organized a language school in Baguio. The other 60 percent were primarily miners and businessmen. Two U.S. army nurses were among the internees. The Japanese appointed Elmer Herold as leader of the internees. Many of the Americans later attributed their relatively benign treatment, compared to internees in other camps, to the concern shown by Halsema and Herold for the welfare of the former Japanese internees, some of whom now became employed in the camp.[4]

However, living conditions were difficult. All 500 internees were crowded into a single building, which had previously housed 60 soldiers, and the Japanese made little provision for food and water. Bedding was on the floor and each bed was rolled into a bundle during the day to allow for more space. After a few weeks, because of the obvious need, an additional building was obtained for male internees. The first project for the prisoners was to clean the building. Water had to be carried for one mile as the water main had been broken during the bombing. Drinking water was boiled as chemicals were not available. Lack of water, outside latrines, lack of screens for doors and windows, crowded buildings and the general lethargy of the prisoners contributed to poor sanitation. Intestinal diseases soon developed. Dysentery became so prevalent among the children, and adults as well, that a small dispensary was set up in the barracks.[5]

On April 23, 1942, the five hundred American and Western internees were moved to Camp Holmes, a base of the Philippine constabulary, five miles from Camp Hay. They were joined there by 300 Chinese internees. Conditions at Camp Holmes were much better.[6]

Many of the original buildings which were used to house internees still stand such as the building now occupied by the Lonestar Steakhouse, the Base Chapel and the adjoining rows of cottages.

During the Japanese occupation, General Tomoyuki Yamashita used the American Residence as his headquarters and official residence.

On April 26, 1945, Baguio City and Camp John Hay fell into American hands. Combined Filipino and American forces pursued the retreating Japanese into the forests of the Benguet Mountains. Finally, on September 3, 1945 Yamashita surrendered to General Jonathan Wainwright at the American Residence. British General Arthur Percival stood as witness. These two Generals, who were both defeated by Yamashita, especially flew up to Baguio to accept the surrender of Yamashita. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Hay_Air_Base


Born on October 8, 1838, in Salem, Indiana, John Hay began his political career as President Abraham Lincoln's private secretary. He went on to serve as the U.S. secretary of state for both William McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt. Arguably his greatest influences were negotiating the Hay-Pauncefote Treaty and promoting an "Open Door" policy in China. Hay died on July 1, 1905, in Newbury, New Hampshire.

Hay became nationally prominent with the election of President William McKinley, under whom he served as ambassador to Great Britain (1897–98) and then secretary of state. He took part in the Paris peace negotiations to end the Spanish-American War (1898) and was particularly active in promoting the momentous decision to retain the entire Philippine archipelago as one of the spoils of war, thus marking the United States as a major imperialist power.

Hay is probably best remembered as the promoter of the Open Door policy, which was designed to counter the trend toward divisive spheres of influence in the Orient. In 1899 he sent diplomatic notes to six interested nations proposing equal trading rights in China for all nations. This move was followed by a second Hay Open Door circular in the midst of the Boxer Rebellion in China (1900), proposing that all nations cooperate in preserving that country’s territorial and administrative integrity.

In 1901 Hay negotiated with Great Britain the second Hay-Pauncefote Treaty, giving the United States exclusive rights to build a canal across the Isthmus of Panama. Two years later he assisted President Theodore Roosevelt in the diplomatic maneuvers leading to Panama’s independence and the beginning of canal construction.

TRIVIA: JOHN MILTON HAY never set foot in the Philippines :)



When I was a lot younger I used to spend my dull time imagining mostly about my “future” family.

I am a product of a complete family but not the ideal one. I never saw my parents hug and kiss each other. There was never a day of no confrontations. It must be a typical set-up of a family burdened with financial setbacks. I have always envied kids who were living a much comfortable life. These led me to imagining a perfect family of my own…exactly the opposite of what my young self has experienced.

Finally, after 30 years of perpetual reverie, I found someone whom I barely know. Everything that he said was music to my ears- this sound so hackneyed to me now. I became a definition of the statements “against all odds” and “against the world”. There was not a single soul who approved of this guy because majority of them know about his shady background and yet I chose to stand by my decision BELIEVING that I could turn him into a better person. And with my choice, many of my longtime friends have evaded me. Not only was my reputation tarnished by this choice but specially my family. I have become a stranger to myself and I find it hard time pulling myself back.

He is legally married and he was in another relationship the time he pursued me. The girl had to sacrifice there three years of relationship when she found out that I was pregnant. There was so much brouhaha among us- the women he played on his palm. But there was a feeling of feat on my side as he chose to be with me. But as they say “a cheater will always be a cheater”. I used to have a strong opinion against men who cheat on their partners. When friends ask for advice, I immediately tell them to leave the guy. But now, when friends talk about things like this, I stay mum as I know I am not in the position to give the same words of advice because I am NICOLE.

If there was really such thing as “gayuma” then probably I had an overdose of it that made me so dim-witted for over two years. We have two kids, yes, I allowed myself to replicate my past mistake, HOPING against hope that things will get better and I’ll eventually achieve my dream of my own ideal family. It never happened-the more that I realized that I fell victim to a beast. He left while I was pregnant to our second child and since then he never exerted any effort to see his kids. The hardest part is seeing our first son looking for his dad on things that remind him of his father. I never thought that a child’s cry of physical pain could break me; if their father did not abandon them will it be different? If I did not fall for this person will my life be better? So many ifs…

My frustrations made me vulnerable to so much hatred that turned me into a mother that every child will grow to hate. And unless I learn to forgive myself for the wrong decisions I made only then will I start becoming a good mother to my kids. Maybe somehow, despite the absence of their father, I will still be able to provide them an ideal family we all deserve. I resent Nicole who made the life of Monica and her family miserable. I am embarrassed watching the teleserye “THE LEGAL WIFE” cause I see myself in Nicole. I see how kids’ lives are affected. I see how a Monica suffers. But I am now reaping the consequences of being a Nicole and that does not spare my children. Eight months ago, I did a reality check. I chose to let go of a moral and emotional burden. It was difficult and is still difficult. When I chose to part ways with him, I never thought that he will abandon our kids but he did. But I believe that every separation is a blessing waiting to be unraveled.

I can proudly say that I AM NO LONGER NICOLE.



SERENE-deep-ity April 1, 2010 at 2:48pm Seated at a rattan-made table, I am trying to recall how this day influenced the much emotional side of me. Thanks to the invention of the lighter that has a tiny flashlight on its bottom-this served as my light while trying to write this piece of experience of mine. Only the outside world has the idea on what time it is exactly. This place is a definition of the word “deprivation”… People who come here should be ready of not having the material and digital comfort that the city life could offer.

Yet this place has priceless offerings to wandering souls…like me. It has been quite a tiring day to start with. Together with two of my close friends, we decided to spend this weekend here in San Antonio,Zambales…the farthest town of this province. Anawangin Cove has always been part of my FOOT TRIPS since I left my hectic lifestyle at my previous work.

This resort has become one of the most talked about islands turned resort in the country right now. Nestled at the tip of Zambales province-it took us nine hours dragging trip to reach this almost undisturbed hide away. We took the Baguio-Pangasinan-Zambales route. All the buses available were ordinary which painfully implies that we will be hitting each turn of roads with the blistering heat of the sun. We did not actually have an idea that there was no aircon bus that passes these extremely hot provinces. Pangasinan area could be a sight to a newbie for its scenic views that is mainly composed of green lands and ponds alongside its beaches. However, these are not new to me anymore that was why I was forcing myself to drowse into unconsciousness so I could rest from yesterday’s hang over.

The trip was obviously unimaginable for people who are used to colder climate up North. The air was too humid to bear…that contributed to the persistent skin allergy that pops out when the temperature turns irritably clammy. My own expectations embarrassed me and I am not ashamed to admit that fact. When Evita told us that there was no way we will be using our cell phones since signal is not feasible in this area…it literally freaked me out. How can I update my friends and family with how we are? How will I ever be able to sleep without saying good night to that someone? Worse, what if some thing unexpected along the way, how can we ever let somebody know that our existence lie at this hidden place?

This morning when we reached the shoreline of Anawangin, I was indubitably moved by the vast sea or was it ocean? Nah! It’s just a sea. The three of us quickly wore our life vests then hurriedly hopped into the boat. When I heard the motor noise, every thing else that occupying my brain was gone. I was totally absorbed by the beauty that was lying ahead of us. This is just a speck of GOD’s infinite wisdom…how he artistically positioned each rock and mountains on the side-it was just amazing! Floating in the middle of a vast and seemingly endless horizon,my fear for deep waters never crossed my brain. It was a total brain rest. It felt like I was sitting on a 3D movie house. The rushing of waves was so reel-it looked as if it was edited for an animation. The bluer waves seemed to elude each path we took. The swift ripples and cool splashes of water that reached my face kept me connected to reality. Approaching the cove, it was all anticipation. Enclosed in a U-shaped mountain, is the island of Anawangin in Pundakit,Zambales. Everyt turn of the boat is a breath taking scenery. I could clearly see the waves slap the rocky mountainsides. When we finally reached where we are right now, I just could not stop gratifying our creator for such wonder.

The sand is not exactly white as it was described in the web but the tranquility that this place offers to a drifter like me makes it its best asset. We rushed to the pine tree covered side of the shore where we put up our tent. After some minutes of rest, we traversed the long stream like swampy area. We took as much picture of the splendor that this place offers- a total commune with the nature. Much to our surprise, there were more campers than we have expected. Everyone was also just absorbing the picture perfect scenery. When the sun started to set in, almost all of us who was in the island gathered at the shore and took shots of the most sought after beauty of nature. We all witnessed how the big ball of fire started to turn into a majestic combination o red,orange and yellow as it slowly took it rest at its rightful place. We were all in awe to see such nature’s unlimited surprises.