It's a little past 12 a.m. on the 29th as I write this, and the wee hours of the morning are waving back at me like my old friends. 2018 is almost gone, and it refuses to leave me in peace. It's mocking me right now, taunting me of all the words in my head that were left unsaid, along with all my plans that were left undone. And with the fast approaching New Year, it makes my existential crisis more real by the hour.

National Museum, July 2018

2018 has allowed me to do some things - I published another book which I have to admit, took me a couple of years to finish. I managed to have a 9-5 job that understood my situation as a chronically-illed woman who needs to be on leave once every two months for doctor's appointments. I met new people, made new friends and once again had the chance to prove myself that I can still be productive in the corporate setting despite my disabling situation. My world expanded, even by just an inch or two.

Si Saldang, Si Marvin at ang Halimaw ng Gabi (Stage Play), February 2018

Right Where You Left Me, published April 2018

It could have been better, though, had I said yes to the many opportunities for adventure that came my way. Yet here I am, wondering what could have happened had my fear didn't take over. I could have met more people, learned another culture, and brought home tons of memories and souvenirs if I wasn't too afraid to go on solo trips. Damn, I could've had a better feature image for this post. I could have written more stories and more books had I not allowed myself to sat idly over my cups of coffee. I could have been an inspiration to more people had I talked more about how I slayed my chronic illness every single day. I could have learned a lot of more useful things had I not buried myself in the slavery of social media.

Pangasinan, April 2018

Pinto Art Museum, June 2018

This year, I promise to make more things happen. I'd say yes to every adventure as long as it doesn't go beyond my moral boundaries. I'll wear more interesting clothes and throw away my drab possessions. I'll write down every idea that comes into my head and make stories out of them. I'll read more books so I could tell more interesting stories to people who'd like to listen. Most importantly, I won't doubt myself anymore. I'll take my own advice and explore the world, and discover what else I can do to be the better version of myself.

Before Nicole's departure Lucca Bakery, July 2018

A date for two, August 2018

2018 is leaving me, not exactly broken, but a little bruised and wounded. It taught me that people change, and what's true today can be a huge lie tomorrow. I kept my silence, not just because I didn't want to inflict more damage, but because I believed that's what classy people do. I also learned that friendships are not defined by how many years I've known them, but for how many times I wish I've seen them in my battles. How many of them actually laughed with me for my every triumph, cried with me for my every failure, and even got my back for my every surrender. I also realized that there's absolutely nothing to be afraid of about falling in love, except for keeping it all in and leaving the other person clueless, and myself plagued with "what ifs".

Korean BBQ with office peepz, October 2018

Over cups of coffee, October 2018

I shouldn't have kept my silence. Instead, I should have spoken my mind and stood up for what I know was true. I shouldn't have remained friends with the people who clearly don't value me as someone who could still be relied on to despite my own battlefields. I should have cut ties with those who never made the time to see me in my losing ground. I shouldn't have allowed them to drain me out of what little positive thing that's left in me, and risked my emotional, physical and mental well-being. And I shouldn't have kept my feelings for that person I fell in love with. I know it wouldn't change the person's mind but at least I wouldn't be hearing this tiny voice at the back of my head saying "what if" every damn time I hear the person's name.

Enchanted Kingdom, November 2018

VegFest, November 2018

This year, I promise to make better relationships. I'll make more time for my friends and family and everyone else that I love, as love requires time, presence and loyalty. Likewise, love also demands generosity, and this includes granting them the freedom of walking away without resentment from my end. I, too, will walk away from the unnecessary drama, and use the time to reflect on my own well-being, talk to God and ask Him if maybe some of the things in what I am writing right now are actually part of His plans for me. And if I ever fall in love again? I'd definitely tell that person. Rejection could have been better than being haunted by regret.

Mula Sa Buwan, December 2018

PGH, December 2018

Cheers to a new book for this year!

This year I promise, things will be better. In 2019, I won't let my fear take over my decisions. I will fearlessly write my tangled thoughts and share it to anyone who would listen. Until this platform becomes a formidable source of inspiration and empowerment. This will be me in real life.

90s-inspired Christmas Party, 2018

Cheers to a better year for all of us. Stay weird!

xoxo,

Beth G.

I didn’t have plans of watching it again – Mula sa Buwan broke my heart the first time I saw it, though I should say it threw the pieces in the right places. But I loved everything about it, from the songs (Tinig sa Dilim for the win!) to the actors, as well as the experience and the feelings it gave me in all life aspects. Talk about being attacked on a personal level. And I must say this play has left me with a bittersweet memory I’d never forget in my lifetime. So when I saw their Facebook announcement that they are going to do one final run on December 1st, I took it as a sign that I must see it one last time.


I told my friends that the 2018 version was better than that of the 2017. Though now I’ve thought it through, I could no longer decide whether it was true or it’s just that, the experience was better this time around. What I saw last weekend was the same Cyrano – Nicco Manalo couldn’t have done it more perfectly than he did. The Christians I saw were different, I like both Edward Benosa and Myke Salomon though I could barely remember how Ed did it really (it’s been more than a year, forgive me). Gab Pangilinan gave me the chills when she finally performed Ang Sabi Nila, but not the way KL Dizon made me cringe and cry and feel like someone was really dead. Hey, I love Gab, too, don’t get me wrong. Especially when she gives life to the #romanceclass MCs along with Jef. And Rosanna, what can I say more about her?


The story broke my heart, and I guess everyone who saw it would say the same. It was a sad love story, unrequited, unsaid and lost. It was also a story of defiance. Roxane told the priest that she should be married to the man she truly loved instead of the one who was pursuing her. The cadets fought bravely during the war. Cyrano went back and forth to the woman he loved the most just to send his devotion despite of the danger that awaited him, or the fact that the woman was already owned by someone else. The world has clearly changed after the war and yet they weren’t keen to embrace it. Roxane chose to grieve forever, refusing to take off the shroud of emptiness that prevented her to see through her best friend’s heart. All these broke my heart and made it whole again. I cried again, during that last scene with Cyrano and Roxane. This time, harder.


I really hope this wouldn’t be the last time they run the show. The entire experience was too violent yet too sweet and I would love to spend more just to get that feeling again, and I’m not even kidding. Mula sa Buwan will always have that special spot in my heart reserved for Filipino musicals.

xoxo,
Beth G. 💕