GOAL!

Hello there! This is your friendly ol' virtual neighbourhood alien correspondent reporting. Rosey is the name and finding one's purpose is now my game.

I started this blog 5 long years ago wearing my hello kitty night gown, my perpetually enlarged eye bags (more like luggage) fully intact, I was 10 lbs of tear-weight lighter, shards of my heart on the floor shattered into countless pieces. I was in a state that no woman wants to admit she has been through. I was helplessly soul-broken. This is the problem I share with intensely passionate people. We love the hardest, but fall and breakdown immensely hard as well. We might even lose our minds along the way. We can't help it. We love hard or just don't love at all.

I wrote what my heart said. What my soul screamed. What my mind debated and argued. I threw all of these thoughts out in the vast void. Not asking for any answers nor solutions, really. I just wanted to let it all out. If I didn't, if I had let these consume me, I would have inevitably exploded. My microscopic remains drifting in the air. Now you see, I didn't even in the slightest way, attempted to search for someone to save me. It might have been fear that kept me from finding love again. Might have been fatigue too. Love has drained all forms of energy in my body, and so I needed to recuperate.

I didn't even see it coming. One day, I was a male wizard killing pixelated monsters on my Ipad, made pixelated armor-wearing friends, a swordsman, a priest, multiple characters you would never meet else where. I was incognito, top player of the entire game. The next minute, I was seeing a stranger everyday. "Dating" in fact. A cold, reflecting flat screen in between us. And before I could even say chocolate peanut butter cups, I had a ring on my finger. The heavy and beautiful kind.

Our story is meant to be written as a novel. Ah, maybe a comic book! It surely is funny now that I have come to think of it. A modern pixelated fairy tale that is yet to be written.

Now that love has come into my life so unexpectedly, I think it is about time to work on the other things that will fuel that galactic love hence fuel the essences of my galactic life. I feel dumbfounded for not being able to keep up with the demands of this life. "Adulthood" is what they call it now I hear. I am not sure how I feel about that term. To me it should be just life. Yours and theirs. Plain, bedazzled, laced, spiked, however you want to make it. "Aldulthood" makes it sound like a chore. Which is the farthest thing of what I want to call this stage of my life. Making that first strong step and the preceding just as strong steps is the struggle. I want to do the things I love and do things that I am good at. Do them the very best I could. That's the goal.

I want to write everyday. Like what I said, just catapult my mind juices into the boundless void! Just do it. And along the way fish out ideas and breakthroughs that wouldn't have been dug out inside this brain if I didn't. I want to share more. BE more. Let's do it, fellow galactic wanderer! We might be a little late. But we can do it!

Signing off and hungry,

Rosey


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Shine that light!

Greetings beautiful creature of this world!

I am not sure how or why I bumped into your beautiful soul here. But nevertheless, welcome to my humble, feeble, boundless, virtual mind bin. There are no rules here. No genre/categories. No filters. We are all friends in this strange corner of the inter web. You are now my friend. *warm warm, squishy hugs*

I have come to the conclusion that I am running out of time. The hands of time stop ticking for no one. And I feel like I have not caught up with the realities of this lifetime. Every single nano second that we deter ourselves from what the universe has set us to, we stand farther and farther from our destiny. We all have a place in this world. Big or small, we matter. We have a purpose. Our very breath signifies our worth. Our contribution to mother earth.

So the next time you feel like you are a nobody. When you start doubting yourself and hide beneath your sheets. When all you see in front of a mirror is failure and disappointment. Look at the stars. They see you. And they are waiting.

So let's go, virtual friend. We have no time to lose! We have a lot to do! Shine that light!

Trying to shine and hungry,

Rosey

**go on and pass that warm squishy hug! Some one might need it today!

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I miss you, Philippines.

Never have I thought I'd one day be living in a different country. A country where its inhabitants speak different languages, pray to different gods, their houses built on top of each other. It's beautiful. Singapore. Stern and concrete subdued by the ethereal nature. Clean. Safe and straightforward. I have fallen in love not only with a beautiful human but to the beauty of Singapore itself.

Here's the thing. I am about to hit my head with a humility baton, and remind myself I am lucky to be with the person I want to spend my life with. Being a Filipino, with thousands of fellow Filipinos scattered around the world, unable to spend a birthday, a Christmas, all the good and anticipated times of the year, and worse, the bad ones too. Stuck at their desks, taking care of another's child, aiding a disabled, saving a life. When the very ones that matter to them most are infinite miles away, the stars being the sole witnesses of their sorrows.

I miss the Philippines. Mainly because 99% of the occupants of this aching heart are there right this very moment. Some may be snoozing, or is trying to since the karaoke machine next door is too loud. Or having a classic food trip in one of the countless eating stops that grow there like mushrooms overnight. And boy, do I miss my mama's cooking. Don't get me started on those Adobo Squid with coconut milk. Oh my sweet baby Jesus. Love you ma!

I miss my family and friends. So so terribly, achingly much. Is it weird to say my laugh is different here than in Pinas? I don't know how to explain it. It's a muscle I don't get to use as much anymore. It's not sad. It's different, I guess. Somehow an adaptation? Evolution? Indigestion? Who knows? But what I do know for a fact is that I am genuinely and insurmountably happy. I have used that word too many times these past few days. Its meaning becoming clearer and clearer every day since I have begun this new life. This new shining leaf. It's all about contentment. Knowing your needs and wants. Weighing them. Differentiating them. Decisions being made and committing to them. I chose to be happy. Made and continuously making decisions to stay happy.

How about you,wandering reader? How happy is your wandering soul?

'til next time.

Yours and hungry,

Rosey

PS.

I present to you semi VLOGS or attempts in the Philippines that made me oh so nostalgic. Did I mention I do youtube now? Yeah, I know. Weird right? Might I add it is, all of this is, undeniably therapeutic.

ENJOY!

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3:00 AM Chit Chat

Two posts in two days.. *brush the shoulder*

Hehe.. Hello there. It's Rosey. Back at it again. Or at least trying to.

It's feels so weird writing with these same rough fingertips, but in a totally different spirit. Hence, the feeling of a some what out of body experience. The feeling of my skin against letters in bright red lighting. My thoughts being sifted through a system I am not sure how the brain processes. But it does. It works. A pause. Bite the lip. Find the right word. Arrange. Organise. Press. Magic.

Let's start with the things I have stuck with since five years ago.

FOOD. Particularly, pastry and bakery. Well folks, if there's anything in this fickle world I will stick to. It undoubtedly is food. All the edible sorcery the world has, will, and is producing is a blessing we all often take for granted. And shamelessly abuse. I am proud to have graduated this year in Singapore. And have pursued what my heart set me out to. I have been obsessively crafting sugar flowers for couture cakes. That I hopefully one day would make into as a full-time career. I am in love with this art. It's patient, beautiful, so thoughtful and sweet all at the same time. I have always loved drawing. I would spent hours my nose touching my sketch pad, translating how I see the world onto paper. It eventually got me into painting. And doing these edible flowers just satisfies that artistic itch. Each time I make a flower, I learn something different, the slightest curve, delicate crevices that need the utmost attention and care. I love it more and more.

BOOKS. I read every day. Every single dilatory day. As much as I love other things. This is just the water to my plant. The gas to my car. The vinegar to my Adobo. No contest. The feels a really good book makes me feel.. Orgasmic. It can make you cry like a deprived toddler. Laugh like a hysterical hyena. Fall in love like Bridgette Jones. Even a mediocre book sends me vibes and ideas that I will never get from somewhere else. If you're not a reader I don't blame you. As a friend, please take the time to read. Once you find the right kind of book for you, you will be a literature addict. And I will apologise in advance for taking a ginormous chunk of your life. Because you will spend hours and hours staring at words that will pierce right through your core you wouldn't even notice a second of your life ticking away. Khaled Hosseini is your man. Start with his Kite Runner. Followed by A Thousand Splendid Suns. You're welcome.

2:55 am. Score!

Smile for me will you? The world needs it.

Hungry,

Rosey

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Hello. It's me. I was wondering....

Adele is a goddess. *cue in Hello by Adele*

And so it begins again.... 5 year later. *phew*

I think I had become of what I had expected to be. More and less at the same time. Well I am, thanks to human genetics, older. To the human environment and tendencies, rougher. To human prerequisite participation, achy-er. But due to self loathing and adamant self denial, most definitely, not any wiser. Double but, because of a former distant pixelated virtual friend, and the now unyielding, ever so loving husband of mine, blissfully happier. It's actually unadulterated, the truth.. It is the kind of happy I thought people only made up for fun. You know, just to rattle our insides. For fun.

The H word. I myself cannot believe it. If I was reading this 5 years go, I'd slap myself left and right until I wake up from this dream. No, erase that, until I wake up from this delusion. Oh my goodness gracious great goblets of fire. A wife at 24. Who would have thought?

I spent the day reading each and every post I unpublished since I started this blog in 2011. (That is now re-published) I have to admit. Some were unbearably painful. Some annoyingly witty and funny. Most made me, stupidly, tear up. But all gave me this exact same feeling that is running through my whole body to my fingertips as I type. There are no words on how to describe it. Think of Tinkerbell's pixidust in liquid form being injected intravenously. That tingly, sparkling, jittery juice you feel running through your veins. I missed this. I missed writing. I missed this feeling of some how translating my wandering, repressed thoughts into these miraculous letters. My hands get me. They understand. They obey. Unlike this stubborn mouth that disagrees with me. It has this filter that rejects the signals my brain sends and decides to be either completely mute or spastic or both.

I have a lot to tell you. Knowing where to begin is the difficult part. Well I got the awkward, "Hey, I'm married!" part covered. I guess we just have to improvise as we go.

I missed you. And you don't have to miss me too. Just letting you know I really do.

I was wondering.... How are you?

Still hungry even after 5 years,

Hungry Rosey

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