Wednesday, April 8, 2015

I am a very useless daughter, a good-for-nothing person. I'm a very stubborn, boastful and obnoxious girl who couldn't give respect to her parents even a bit. I'm that one person who always think she's above everyone else. I cannot pay respect to my mother and father because I'm that evil.

And I am at fault.



Now, it was made clear to me why I've been very nervous these past few days. I thought something wrong's gonna happen and it did: in the form of a revelation that my father is really mad at me. If you ask me though, it's like he hates me to the bones because I didn't turn out to be what they expected me to be.

It's because I answered back. And that's my worst mistake, I believe. I answered back when he was shouting right at my face due to something I refused to do. It was respectful but while I won't defend myself, I just have to explain that it was instinct that pushed me to do that. I was being shouted at: something I hate so much. His eyes were wide open in anger while screaming at me, and it was... scary.

This might be the first time I'm gonna explain why this hurts me so much, so I hope I'll be able to put everything into words. I hate people screaming at me and it's because everytime they do, I feel like a piece of shit. I feel like I still don't have a say on what I do despite all things I did to earn that kind of self-respect. It was like everything I've tried to work for gets down the drain.

A little background: I was bullied when I was a child. I was always left alone. Naturally, I tried to blend in but I guess I overdid it (or people just took it wrongly) and so I suffered the consequence and the situation worsened. This is the reason why I hated my grade school and high school days. And this is the reason why I feared getting shouted at.


I have suffered a lot of mental and emotional hardships all my life - all for the sake of feeling accepted. But when people shout at me, or I hear people screaming at each other, it just feels like everything's getting out of hand. It's like people shout at me because I'm a useless, stupid person who doesn't know how to do anything right. It puts my learning, my effort, to waste.

And you know where that leads to? I blame myself.

Everytime people shout at me, I end up blaming myself because I can't blame anyone else. Everytime people shout at me, I feel like it's only me who's wrong - that even though I'm not at fault, I will be, because I can't fight for myself. But in times when I can shout back, I'll feel worse.

Because that meant I actually did wrong.



My mom told me my father had a hard time sleeping because he was too angry at me for answering back when he screamed at me twice. She said he dreamt of not being able to breathe. It fucking drove me to guilt. If something happens, I would probably blame myself for it forever; and then we're gonna go through the same story. I will be the sinner who deserves to be screamed at.


But what confuses me is why my parents couldn't figure out the effect of their constant shouting at me. Why can't they see that due to their constant bickering or their constant screaming at us, I don't dream about bad things. I COULDN'T SLEEP AT ALL.



Of course, I could always cry unfair. I could always say this is not okay. But I can't. Because at the end of the day, I'm at fault. Because I'm a good-for-nothing daughter who doesn't know how to pay respect.


And I'm not saying this because I call for pity.

I say this because it's the truth.


And even though I try to change because I want to change... no one would notice. And so I end up going back to step one again.












The Fault of a Good-for-Nothing Daughter

Tuesday, April 7, 2015

It was by far one of the most tiring Holy Week experience ever. What I thought will be a laid-back one turned out to be one of the most exhausting. I am already working so I didn't have enough time to ready myself for what was to come; and so I got tired.

But as this is one of the most tiring, this is basically the most rewarding. No joke there. This Lenten Season is definitely my most favorite.


I'm not gonna talk about what I did during the past few days; but I'm gonna hope that I can put into words all the emotions I felt when I was seeing each moment happen through the lenses of the camera I used. I fervently pray that whatever transpired within me during those days, I can share with all of you without missing out on anything.

While I'm thinking of terminologies to use, my mind just concluded that all in all, this experience was like a brand new experience. Although I've been doing this kind of service for the past few years, it is only this time that I felt like I know what I'm doing.

You see, when you know what you're doing something for, its essence becomes exponential. That's what happened. When the week opened on Palm Sunday, I knew that for the first time in my life as the parish photographer, I'm gonna be totally serious.

And I guess that's the most important learning. I think that's what made everything extra special. Knowing my purpose granted me that sense of fulfillment, that sense of completeness - that despite the physical, emotional and mental stress we've all gone through, our willingness to use this talent to serve the Lord prevailed.

Thinking about it, there is only one reason why I got through it: I offered everything for the glory of His name. Prior to all events, I always whisper a prayer, asking God to give me strength and let me maximize my talent so I can use it to honor Him.

And judging from the reception of the people and the sense of joy within me right now, I knew He heard me.


As for my Lenten reflection, there was not one moment during the Holy Week that I didn't feel overwhelmed. Superstitions might dictate that we should not feel cheerful during these days because Jesus was suffering, but I believe otherwise. If there's anything to feel, I believe it has to be joy.

He died for us and salvation came in the form of His death on the cross. If that kind of love won't move you, I don't know what else will. Once again, I might be overreacting but it's true when I say that there are several moments when I was attending masses that I actually teared up. I actually cried.

I feel ashamed because I'm a sinner, but that doesn't mean God's ashamed of me as well. And that is exactly why I was crying: because despite of my sins, I am loved.


The Holy Week of 2015 had brought changes to my spiritual life. It cleansed my thoughts and redirected my journey. Although I couldn't remember every words said by the priests during their sermons or I might have not prayed that much during processions, I will never forget how these days made me feel.

And I hope... I hope I wasn't the only one who felt that way. ♥





Holy Week 2015: What It Made Me Feel

Thursday, April 2, 2015

I'm currently getting pissed off. I can never understand why some people always flare up instantly - like every word seems to be a liter of gasoline poured onto the blazing fire. It's totally annoying. I hate being shouted at for my statements which are supposed to be sarcastic. 

 I totally abhor people who make it seem like they're the only ones who can do things, like they're the only ones who can perform well, like they're the only ones who know everything. I hate those who always compare everyone to themselves because it just doesn't make sense. People are different. People have different ways in dealing with everything. It's just not fair to always mandate people to do things according to their selfish wills. It's not okay. I'm angered.

The problem is there's no understanding between everyone. The problem is while people are talking about always staying humble, some would take advantage of it and would lift themselves up on the pedestal.

If that isn't stupid, I don't know what is.

You see, it's very, very annoying. I hate double standards, which is always the case. And I can't accept that. I can never, ever accept that. I don't like people who always think that they're the only ones who feel tired, who feel sad, who feel pressured. And I fucking don't like people who use that as the lamest excuse to fucking put everyone else down.

It's Maundy Thursday. This isn't supposed to be happening.

Shut Up. SHUT UP.

It's that time of the week again. I had my confession but did a lot of bad things afterwards anyway that I feel so ashamed of myself. The peak of my Lenten Season had begun and as much as I'm looking forward to it, I couldn't because there's a super typhoon threatening the country, and you know how I am when it comes to natural disasters like this, but then that's another story.

So yeah, it's the Holy Week season. Last night, I was able to cover for the Holy Wednesday procession. As I'm now working, I really thought I wouldn't make it. Good thing Tina got my camera, I still got Celine's memory card, and I was there. Blessings.

Now, I'm wondering how it would be if I didn't make it last night. Things would have been very incomplete. I was so used to being terrifyingly busy during Holy Week for the past years that a sudden deviation like what could have happened might have been lethal to me. LOL, I'm exaggerating. But you see the picture? That's how serious missing out on church activities is to me.

However, I do not play perfect. Although some people kinda look up to us because we're devoting our time, effort, and talent on this kind of religious service, I just want to tell the world that we're not perfect. I have my fair share of mistakes, sins. I am not a good person. But I'm trying to be.

That's why I'm doing this. That's why I'm trying to be better at this. I don't want to play the piano anymore. I can't sing anymore. It's not like I can still dance too. Photography and layout designing are the only talents left in me so I want to maximize those God-given talents for His greater glory.

And right at this moment, I really wish I'm doing it for Him.

When I went to confession, the priest told me to do things for His glory. He told me that I should always set aside my personal agendas so my actions will be more real, more sincere. As I ponder on that advise now, I once again feel regretful. It hasn't been a week since I confessed but I'm already doing the opposite of what I was told to do.

I'm sorry, God. I'll try to be better.





I'm Sorry, God.

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