The Pink Sheep

Cheap love is not love; Mercy is undeserved kindness, I have learned those today. True love is choosing to love, amidst pain, and amidst sacrifices. I know, I have witnessed this. And I have been reminded of this today and every May 15.   Let me tell you the story about this part of my life.   Only some people knew that I got pregnant a second time by 2015. This was a time when I thought that I deserved to have a baby; that I deserved to have some happiness after all the loss I had in my life. I was hopeful and scared. But most importantly, there was a lot of excitement and happiness at the thought that I will finally have a baby.   My partner and I did our very best to take care of the pregnancy, amidst all the judgment from other people. I lost some people back then because they cannot seem to understand my decision. I cared and was affected but I didn’t want that to ruin my chances of having my own kid. Months passed and my tummy grew. We found out that we will have a baby g

“I wish I could go back to those fairy book tales, forget the real world awhile and seek the seas of the talking whales… A place of wishing wells and magic spells….”   That’s a line from the song, Wishing Wells , by my most favorite OPM band of all time, Eraserheads . Perhaps one of the best things this Enhanced Community Quarantine brought is the surge of charity—be it in time, treasure or talent. And somehow, this ECQ really gave us an opportunity to go back to those fairy book tales in our 90s Filipino childhood and forget the real world awhile through the limited viewing of Huling El Bimbo, The Musical.   For those whose childhood was in the 90s, this was actually a happy nostalgic trip. I was one of those people who was beaming with happiness when this was given for free online to watch last May 8-9, 2020. I grew up listening to Eraserheads with my 3 brothers, and cousins. I remember cassette tapes of Ultraelectromagnetic Pop, Circus, Cutterpillow, StickerHappy, etc, putti

Once there was a king who bought a piglet. He raised this piglet, fed him, bathed him, took care of him, treated him like his most-prized pet. He loved the pig so much that he decided he could not sleep well without the pig beside him. Unfortunately, the pig squirmed in his master quarters as it was not accustomed to soft covers and pillows. In sad despair, the king bought back the pig to its pen.  That night, he couldn't sleep. So the king went back to the pig pen, and slept in the mud with the pig. That was one of the nicest and calmest sleep he ever had. The next day, since the king was so happy that he was able to be with his loved pig, he also felt that he couldn't last a day without the pig. And with his immense love, he talked to the pig. He tried to take all of his clothes, went inside the pig pen, played with the pig as if he were a pig, too. If that wasn't enough, he tried to oink like the pig, tried to eat like a pig, and just be there with the pig.  The kingsmen

    Re-publishing a 19-year-old article: The switch was just turned off as the last of the senior facilitators went out of the room. Their voices trailed off, leaving the inside of GPL seem like an abandoned cemetery at midnight. Not a sound was heard, not even the whisper of a lost wind. I just waited for the signal and suddenly, it came:     “Okay, fellas, coast is clear!”       And all of a sudden, the once somber room turned into a milieu of excited pillows chatting simultaneously of the day’s events. Well yes, you read right. The pillows of GPL. You know, the green ones and the red ones you use? Well, here we are! Alive and kicking, I mean, lying, sharing what we somehow did to all the individuals we encountered. But tonight, I just observed my fellow pillows. I’m getting old for these things. I am tucked up in the corner of the simulation room, hidden behind the mess. I used to be bright red but that was history and my insides are shamefully sticking out and my zipper’s not funct

I would like to tell you a story. It’s about a pink sheep.   Imagine a very vast, green and lush field among mountains and trees and it’s full of a large flock of sheep. It was handled by a Shepherd who knows each and every one of his sheep. It was a great field to live in, with just a little rule: to stay in the field and hear and follow the shepherd's voice when he calls and to not go astray. So, again, we go back to the field. There are sheep which are grazing near the brook and those that are running with their small feet. There are those resting near the shades of trees. Some are black, some are white, but there’s one who is pink.   She seems vibrant, happy, unique and full of life, trying to mingle with other sheep. But somehow, this pink sheep pushes some away, and even kick with her little legs the ones who would dare go near her. Some sheep would raise their eyebrows and say, “ That sheep is so weird. Why is she the only one who’s pink? She just wants attention and