It’s funny the things we pretend. That we’re strong enough. We’re over it. That we don’t notice or feel flattered. I suppose it’s the hope that if we fake-believe it long enough, eventually it’ll become real.

More than ever, people have been reminding me of how lucky I am. But because my life is all about winning, losing at shit has been taking its toll. She says, you can’t win ‘em all. I think I can…eventually. Or at least pretend I will.
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I’m as peeved about this war as the next Prius-driver, but the Filipino in me is ambivalent about complete troop withdrawal. I find it to be a disservice to the ‘liberated’ Iraqi citizens should we leave them ‘hanging’. I mean, something tells me that we’re more likely to see another Osama than we are an Imelda should we fuck this thing up further.
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Before I go to bed at night I hug my dog Tux. He doesn’t move, even though I’m sure he’s really uncomfortable. It is in those silent moments that I think: if I forget to feed this black haired mess, it’ll die. It is in those moments I am also reminded about trust and responsibility.
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I’m a year older. Even though I can still taste the sweetness of Bali where I spent my 23rd, this year has been a blur, really. But when I go to Tibet next month, I’ll feel satisfied about my time here on earth.