August 9, 2015

Au revoir!

If we are very lucky in life, we'll come to a place where we get to choose between paradise and paradise. The only difference between these two is one is as is, and the other one is growing. So, let me ask you... Do you want to be a part of a paradise that is lush and evergreen, but stagnant; or do you want to be a part of something constantly evolving? 

Okay, I'll answer. I want to be where the second one is. Because I believe we are constantly evolving. We are the paradigm shift we yearn for. We are the time machine. And I've found my portal to my next calling... and I'm hoping you'll join me there? 

Here is the link to my babyspatz 'peach+nebula' and I hope life will be more beautiful and abundant there as it has been here. 

Au revoir, my fairy lights. And merci...

May 30, 2015


She asked, "You are in love, what does love look like?" To which I replied, "Like everything I’ve ever lost come back to me.” - NW

Love, is my drug.
Love is a cold shower on a blistering sunny day.
Love is my sunny day.
Love is a whisper of his voice in my ear calling me "baby".
Love is a puppy falling asleep in my arms.
Love is my mother's hug on any day.
Love is ice cubes cracking in lukewarm liquid.
Love is the palest pink of a baby's feet.
Love is my grandmother's softest veined hands.
Love is coming home to the one person you've longed to see all day.
Love is them waiting to see you just as bad.
Love is dark chocolate unraveling in your mouth.
Love is lips in tandem.
Love is leaves always falling in slow motion.
Love is a green tree.
Love is a moment of eye contact with a beautiful stranger across a crowded room/street/dimension.
Love is a fragile, beating heart that won't quit.
Love is a perfect kiss rising from imperfect lips.
Love is his fingers weaving through my hair and spawning butterflies in my tummy.
Love is your feet in the ocean, buried in sinking sand.
Love is the smoothest swig of whiskey.
Love is a woman's delicious nape.
Love is her smiling eyes.
Love is the smokey embers of a barbecue.
Love is a powder blue dress you always wanted but never thought you'd look good in.
Love is my father's deep and soothing baritone over a telephone.
Love is a frosted ice cream stick, velcroed to your tongue.
Love is a song from your childhood you fell asleep to.
Love is a ring that fits just right.
Love is my brother's wit.
Love is a perfect circle of people, protecting you always.
Love is you, and love is me.
Love is treasure uncovered.
Love is electricity.

[Art by Chiara Bautista]

May 29, 2015

Hot Soul

I wear my heart on my sleeve.
By this, I mean that heartbreak does not deter me from being hopeful. I'm not one to wallow over lost love or the pain of separation.
I grieve.
And I grieve the same way that I love: completely and with unbridled passion!

Every little part of me envelopes pain and I let it lead me! I believe this is the only way to get over someone who has consumed you. It's the only way to mourn a part of you dying.
Because, when someone leaves you, they take that part of your life with them. It's only natural for you to pay your respects to what once belonged to you, with you, made you whole; to what's left of you now, an incomplete puzzle.
Your skin has been balled like a perfect melon scoop! Your heart has lost a large chunk of delirious affection that fueled it! Your hands feel naked without their fingers resting in it! Your body is a cold mold that has lost its haven! Your lips are lonely! Your cheeks sink in! The wonderfully shallow grooves in your neck abandoned! You hear their voice in the dark caves of your memories, but now it's only an echo. Tragic and lost. 

But nothing can compare to the emptiest part of you.
That gaping pit in your stomach that controls everything from your tears to your anger. You wonder if you'll ever get over that sinking feeling, like you're getting sucked, outside in, into your own body and disappearing into your entrails into nothingness... 
That void. The bitter pain of sadness every time you see a faint trace of them. It could be a tagged picture on Facebook. It could be an old faded text message with some traces of love. It could be a picture you'd forgotten to delete. It could be their haunting voice on loop.
The power they still have over you is overwhelming and it frightens you to no end. Wondering if you'll ever survive to tell your story of rebirth. Wishing someone saves you. Hoping secretly that it's the same person who broke you. Begging for the pain/tears/nightmares to end.

You know what? It will.
Like a firework at the end of its grandiose journey. Your pain will dissolve into smoke.
Sweet death.
You will shine brighter than ever because that's what stars do.
You'll rise from your own ashes, you magnificent Phoenix!

[Art by the incredible Bojan Jevtic]

April 15, 2015

On Beauty

Dear Dove,

While I understand the need for you to market your product to a large consumer base using the most basic ingredient in life, beauty, I think it is both irrelevant and dramatised.

First of all, beauty is overrated.
In today's day and times, with social media driving everyone into a narcissistic frenzy, we've become a generation of self-obsessed over-sharers. I speak for myself, too, ashamedly. But beauty is too large and abstract a concept to be defined by the use of external products. To think one can acquire beauty through mere application of something skin-deep. Or to even suggest something so one-dimensional to validate your projection of such a versatile word, is pretty ignorant and not to mention, insensitive.
That being said, I think the world has far bigger concerns than women considering themselves average or beautiful. I'd rather address gender equality issues. Issues of exploitation of women in every field. Issues of objectification of women (Yes, random deodorant ad, I'm looking at you.) Issues of equal pay and benefits. Issues of legal and moral policing, and social control that limits us every day. Issues of freedom of choice, sexual harassment wherever we turn and just plain prejudice and sexism.
These take precedence over any kind of overt/covert beauty you guys may be promoting.

To me, beauty is intangible. It is merely a force that allows us to be a million things at once. Compassionate, courageous, sassy, unruffled, intelligent, spirited, graceful and above all, deliriously hopeful. 
Kindness is my kind of beauty.
Innocence and gentleness is my kind of beauty.
To me, my mother exudes beauty because she is selfless.
Children being who they are, is beautiful to me.
Somebody treating me with respect, and caring for nature and all growing things is beautiful. 
My father, always saving me the last bite of anything he eats, is beautiful.
People helping you, expecting nothing in return, is beauty.
And sometimes, it's just the way somebody smiles at you.

Dove, I refuse to partake in your campaign, kindly. I refuse to be attached to things that are superficial and subject to judgement by total strangers. I refuse to be limited by my appearance.

Echoing WS, "It is not my responsibility to be beautiful. I'm not alive for that purpose. My existence is not about how desirable you find me."


October 5, 2014



Of all the things I value in my life two things I love most are intelligence and independence. I think people today absolutely must have both. By intelligence, I don't mean only reading or education. I don't want to sound even borderline contrived or condescending. And by independence I don't mean traveling or living alone, or even being single or unmarried.

Intelligence is that rare spark you see in someone's eyes as they make life changing decisions in one moment and never look back. When they choose to be pragmatic with a blazing aura of absolute assertiveness and charisma. When they talk with reverence and always measure their words and choose them wisely. Intelligent people surprise you with their rock solid sense of perception, because they only ever fight when it's worth the effort. They engage in things worthy of their time and energy. They are not swayed by temporary setbacks or loose talk. 

Intelligence, when their emotions are like mercury, silky and fluid. 
Intelligence, that laughs at immaturity and dismisses petty ideas.
Intelligence, when they can discuss everything under the sun and still manage to be detached. 
Intelligence without anger. Much like our mothers.

Much like being free. To me, independence means everything. 

In a world where people are hyper-connected all the time, it is so liberating to breathe in a lightweight bubble called independence. To not have to tag-team race all the time or be forced into almost a buddy-system with partners, friends and family. 
To me, independence is being able to call your own shots without fear. 
To be in control and at the wheel at all times. 
To not hold back anyone, or be held back by people, ideas or norms. 
To know what you feel and what you want, and go after it with conviction. 
To never settle for anything less than what you deserve.
To be able to afford your mistakes.

Independence means taking a stand and showing up to life with this magnificent sense of self. 

Being independent means taking calculated risks. Being independent means not getting lost in a crowd or constantly doing what others do blindly.

Be brave! Be a fierce non-sheep! And don't look back.