Someday It Will All Make Sense

Welcome to my mind. A journal. See the raw and not-yet diamonds.

A passerby’s applause — December 12, 2017

A passerby’s applause

Late afternoons found me practising my violin on the balcony of my third-floor apartment. My humble abode was nestled in one of the quiet hubs of the bustling city.

And then, one opportune afternoon, there was someone below who caught my attention.

I felt that he had been standing there for awhile, and that he’d sacrificed the momentum of his brisk stroll towards whatever errand he had been previously headed to – to park his yellow sneakers under my apartment just so he could listen to me.

After playing the last upstroke, I eyed him clapping for my performance, and having a silly, but childishly happy, smile on his face.

Not knowing how to react to situations such as this, I reciprocated his smile, and gave a shy wave and bow.

Then he began to yell, “That was a very nice song!” His voice sounded like a matured young man’s, and it was very smooth – the sort you’d like to listen to and it had an attractive quality of humility in it.

“Thank you,” I yelled back. I was glad someone had noticed.

A brother who left —

A brother who left

I suddenly remember Stephen, the British-Korean, and when he looked me in the eyes and asked, “What has Jesus been telling you recently?”

The late, late afternoon sky was cloudy. Kids were playing in the background, and the conference was continuing in the other hall. I didn’t know that it would be the last time I’d see him.

While he finished asking me, I struggled to find an answer, and I imagined a brown, warm room with a flame being lit up. My mouth gave out jumbled words in an attempt to say the truest things. And then, time was up, and he had to leave to lead the worship.

Stephen was a superb guitarist and singer. I loved him, he was so comfortable to be with and I felt I could tell him anything. It wasn’t a crush kind of love – a brotherly love, sorta what I feel for Naya, my best friend. May God bless him.

Airplane Song 1 —

Airplane Song 1

We lit up the cities in no man’s land

Over the deserts and snow white mountainsides

You chase after us, you chase after us

No matter where I go

You will follow

You take care of every single

Sparkle I see from high up above

You make

Beautiful feet over the mountains

How beautiful on the mountains

Are the feet of those who bring good news

My heart tells me to choose


I’m sorry Lord for

Seeing my problems and my needs

My self


When you were the one

The architect

The artist of these mountains i see

In front of me

You crowned them with snow

You painted the land with their icy fingers

You even gave men the courage

To make their homes by their sides

They did not hesitate to become neighbours

And you were pleased

You told the winter wind to blow gentler

You took hold of the reins of his powerful gusts

And told him

Calm down

My children are here

Even the stars I saw

Look down from the heavens

And see how you protect these people

Who don’t even know your name

It hurts your heart

That they don’t see

Not just the enormity of your ability

Nor the intricacy of beauty

That you put on display

On these mountains

It puts tears on your eyes

That they don’t see the unsearchable greatness

Of your love for them

That your arms are open wide

So wide

Wide enough to be nailed to the cross

The mountains couldn’t take off the blinders

Off our eyes

So you took it in your own hands

You came down

God of heaven

God who crafted the mountains

God who tells them to stay through earthquakes and storms

You came down!

As a man like me

We are really so small compared to these mountains

Why would you even care?

Why? Why?

You came down to show me

Your love is real

Even if my sin

My brokenness

My pride

Magnified ME

Magnified my abilities

Magnified my so called greatness

You took the punishment

You took my shame

The shame I spat on your face

The shame that it was by my own hands

The strength of my arm

That I nailed you to the cross

You took it

Didn’t waver

Solid in your spirit as the mountains

So that I could be set free

That by believing

By surrendering

I would find myself in your loving arms

I would find myself held in your hands

The hands that molded the mountains.

Now I understand

Why you took me on this journey

Why I’m high over the earth

To see the white caps over the land

The stars in the dark sky above

And the lights of cities nestled between the snow and unlit lands

I understand

That you love those who live in those places

Where no one goes

I understand

That you love me so

I don’t deserve this

You are mighty

I am not

But if you want me

I will be your messenger

I will brave wind and sea

Bitter cold and cliffsides

Summit and valley

Just to find that one soul

That needs to hear about

What I heard

What was revealed to me

High above the earth

Close enough to touch the sky

Over the mountains.

Arab guy’s fashion —
Ibn Battuta to Abu Dhabi —

Ibn Battuta to Abu Dhabi

written some time back in ferbuary or march 2017.

We got on the bus to Abu Dhabi. It’s 8:44PM. We sat in the Ladies and Families Only area. Here the seats are so comfortably reclined. My dad used his hook for the holder in the seat in front of him. He hung up my plastic bag which had some leftover Burger King fries and Jollibee stuff inside.

At first I tried reading Exodus, but since I gave my wifi to Abbie – so I couldn’t read in NLT – I felt annoyed. So I just looked out the window and played hugot music. I felt annoyed at my being annoyed – I was guilty of having that anger in my heart.

To distract myself, I thought about a guy I met earlier and how I liked him but didn’t have a crush on him. He’s nice to me and we talked about a lot of interesting topics. At first it was hard to take him seriously because he looked dashing in his post-interview outfit and clean hair and clear brown eyes. I got over it when I remembered we were friends, but I still couldn’t help noticing.

I thought about nice things to talk about with him the next time. I hope he doesn’t chicken out from the job he really wants and believe in God’s power with big faith and crazy bold action.

Later, I decided to play Alto’s Adventure while playing music in my chick yellow headphones.

The people around me:

An Indian lady who has a thick orange book and cellphone plus earphones.

Two Pinays sharing earphones. They took a selfie together. The Pinay lady next to the window has an LV bag.

I liked playing Alto because the adventure matched the music I was listening to. Bird with a Broken Wing by Owl City portrayed my frustration of not achieving the goal I needed to get to the next level. I also loved playing as Izel, after playing with combo-less Paz and super-slow Maya, because I saw myself in her. For one, we looked like each other. Next, she was what I wanted to act like in the game.

Then I stopped playing so I could take videos of the desert twinkling with streetlights. I wanted the videos to play to Early Birdie by Owl City. I wanted to be like Nate Punzalan.

I found a university, a hotel, pictures of the shiekhs, a Security and Rescue Training building, stairs with lights on the edges, beautifully lit bridges, and the sea. It was super wonderful to look at those far-off buildings in the dark with deep curiosity. The thought of multiple stories being played out by the people who crossed paths with those buildings kept me glued to the window.

Dad and I tried to eat expired pastillas but we spat it out on the same tissue. I opened his new pastillas pack that had fresh green candies or gumdrops inside. I ate two because I saw him pick up two (I normally eat just one) but he popped a third one in his mouth because it escaped from the round container.

I think we’re nearing our destination. We passed so many buildings already. The bus is starting to ring with voices – people have woken up and are excited to see the city of Abu Dhabi.

I soon have to wind up the string of my headphones and zip it up in the travel pouch Daniel de Guzman gave me. I can see stout palm trees in the sand by the side of the road, lit by orange streetlights. They’re quite a funny sight.

I’m looking out for the longest tunnel in the Middle East. I don’t think we’ll pass it but it doesn’t hurt to make sure.

I see a lot of cars now. We’ve encountered some traffic. I’m hungry and I need to pee. Even though we have a bag full of food in the plastic bag in front of me.

We’re here now. We’ve arrived. 9:10PM.

Vandenburg and Coetsee —

Vandenburg and Coetsee

I saw two persons in one. One was fiction, the other made of flesh and blood. Both of them were twenty four. Young and bold. I loved them, but why?

The first was broken and scarred. The other relinquished control of his Navigator chair. I needed to meet them again. Look into their eyes. One had swampy eyes. The other had eyes that were like lakes that reflected the pine forests or the browning mountains.

Feb 14 17 —
My kids —
storms —
Welcome to my blog! — March 6, 2017

Welcome to my blog!

I opened this blog a few months ago because I wanted a place for my thoughts to be posted. I felt that seeing them on my journals wasn’t enough, and I somehow needed to bring them to the interweb. But I abandoned it for a while because I couldn’t find the time to transcribe my entries here.

Then, I came across Nate Punzalan’s blog, which sounds like the goal I’m aiming at for this blog. He inspired me to take up writing again, which I wasn’t able to do out of being busy and doubting my ability. So thank you, Nate. We met in Baguio but never had a real conversation. I’m in love with your art. Do I have a crush on you? Maybe, but not really. Haha 🙂

I want to write out of the overflow, the freeflow. I found out through Nate’s blog that these thoughts circulating around my brain do have weight, they do make sense. It was fun to read through his blog, to get a piece of his mind. (Actually, same thing with Benny Manaligod’s blog. I’ve read my girl friends’ blogs before, but it’s different to read blogs by guys in their late teenhood.)

Maybe it would delight someone to wade through these posts, since I know I’ve got a lot of fans (naks). If you’re one of them, please leave a comment!!!

While climbing up and down the stairs in between writing this post, I thought of more than four topics to write about already. I’ll only share one.


Where am I now? Sure, I’m in Sharjah in the United Arab Emirates, but where I am in this thread called life? I’ve been pretty unproductive these days. I have a project to release my own blog domain, and time is running out for my deadline. I am accountable to my coach, Celine, and my friend DJ, who marked his phone calendar for my blog’s release, which is pretty cool and sweet and frightening at the same time. I haven’t been able to work on it because I got sick with the fever the past few days, and yesterday, we were at a friend’s house. But I better get on it today. Or else, I’ll feel bad about myself for not committing to my schedule.

Next week, we will be in Armenia. That’s a pretty sweet adventure. New languages to learn, new people to meet, new places to make gala-gala. I am excited.

Next Friday, we’ll be in Qatar. I’m supposed to speak in front of the youth there. I’m a little nervous, but I know God will be with me.

Today, I’m in the UAE. A pretty rad place, I found family in the church here, and I even found friends in the local Emiratis. At first I was mesmerised by the cultural diversity here, now I’ve pretty much seen it all.

Do I miss the Philippines? Yeahhhhh, kind of. I don’t think of it as much. I do miss Nepal. My home. Flashes of you dance in my dreams.


I guess I should write about another topic now. See you, and do make yourself at home in here. I hope my thoughts will somehow inspire you and make you start thinking on your own.