Postaday #3: Playlist of the Week

My week here starts with Sunday and ends in Thursday. This whole week had me in a roller coaster ride. It started with me feeling like the king of the world and ended with me feeling like an outcast.


Sunday – King For A Day (Pierce the Veil ft. Kellin Quinn)

The meaning of the of the song is about someone being pushed past the breaking point, however, every time I hear this song I feel so pumped up and I feel like I can do anything. I was trying to nail an extra job and “I did good, if not, excellent” (according to my client).

MondayA Horse With No Name (America)

It is about a song trying to capture the dry feeling of the desert which fits perfectly because Monday for me is the most boring of all days. It’s the calm after the storm that is Sunday. After I nailed the extra job, I was back to my old daytime task.

TuesdayBack In Black (AC/DC)

The lyrics perfectly fits what happened to me last Tuesday. My Sunday client called me back for another job. I thought I’m dead for the next two weeks but he called for another exciting project. I was excited to work with him.

WednesdayI’m Not Okay (My Chemical Romance)

I received a very bad news about my residency application. They informed me that my residency can be processed a day after my visit visa expires and I hate the idea of exiting the country.

ThursdayMiserable (Lit)

This concludes my week. I can only relate this day to the first three lines of the song (You make me come, you make me complete, you make me completely miserable.) but it says so much about what I’ve been going through.

I hope you all had a good week! 🙂

Postaday #2: VIP

I’m not the kind of person who gets along well with other people. I keep to myself, only talks when being addressed to, and I don’t go out that much. A wallflower, I guess. I don’t have a lot of close friends to brag about. There, at least, two or three people that I can call my close friends. Best friend, none. 

What I’m trying to say is that it’s hard for me to classify these three remaining people, but, for the sake of this challenge, I’m going to pick one.

My mum. 

She’s a strong person. The strongest, I tell you. She took care of us, her four children, when our father was away. She had her flaws, a lot, but I look past that and saw a very beautiful, perfect woman. Too bad, I am not by her side and I am not able to provide now that my father can’t…or won’t. 

She gave birth to me, her eldest child, at a young age of sixteen. At that age, I still can’t decide what to wear to school. She observes, she listens, and she suffers silently. She stood by as my father was drawn to another woman. She cries at night, worries when my father isn’t home after a week of absence, and still does. She still waits for him. 

She got pregnant of her fifth child at the age of forty. My father still hasn’t change. After all of these, she still managed to understand him. 

It’s difficult to see your loved ones hurting. It breaks my heart whenever I see her cry,


what really kills me is when she sits in her usual spot patiently waiting for a person who doesn’t deserve her. 

My mum is my friend, my VIP. 

Postaday #1: Childhood Memories

Back in my youth, when television was a luxury we couldn’t yet afford, I used to go to my neighbor’s house to watch television shows. Their house is just a 5-minute walk from our house, a vast rice field between two houses. On Sundays, two-hour movies are shown on TV from 9 pm until around midnight. Take note that we lived in a small town where street lights are not as abundant and some houses still use gas burners at night. My parents used to scold me every Sunday for coming home late and told me the scariest story to keep me inside at night.

She told me that one time, while she was making her way home from our other neighbor at around seven in the evening, she heard something rustle in the rice field near her. She continued walking, a little faster this time. When she almost reached our door, a loud noise came from the field and she swore she saw a bird-like creature with “tails” flew from the field towards the trees. She then told me to keep away from the rice field and always be at home before the sun sets. I promised to listen. A few months passed and the story was forgotten.

One Sunday evening, I asked my mother if I can go to our neighbor’s house. A new movie is on television and I MUST see it. To get her permission, I told her that I will bring my little brother with me. She said that it’s okay.

The movie was so good, my favorite actress was so beautiful. It’s time to go home. It was past midnight. I have to face the next big, scariest thing now; going home.

I held my little brother’s hand and started the 5-minute walk. It’s not that scary, I thought. I can hear the rice field rustle but it was because of the wind, or so I thought. The next thing I know my brother was already near our house and I was left in the middle of the road. I sprinted the remaining distance and kicked the door open. I was so scared. My brother told me that he heard a voice and a rustle so he ran. After that night, I never went out of the house after sunset. Five months later, my parents bought us a new television.

I was already in my teenage years when I learned the real story. My mother already planned to have my brother accompany me and conspired with him to scare me.

My innocent-looking, conniving little brother betrayed me.