The Art of Second Thought

By Robert Ryan Valle

Get a pen and paper. 

Start writing about the first thing that comes to mind.

Stop after exactly one minute.

We were asked in class earlier today to do the same thing. I wrote about writing and came up with two sentences and a half. Others griped about not having enough time in an attempt to buy more thereof.

It was hard. Writing is hard. (You can’t imagine how much I am squeezing the words out right now.) But the exercise was harder because we didn’t have time to think. Or rather re-think. Up to this point I have edited the sentences above an average of three times.

Chances, chances, and more chances.

By Isabel Rodriguez

 “And I also regret not writing more when I was younger..”, I told my father. And just as those words escaped my mouth, I realized; I had so many regrets.

I used to think that getting older leaves you with less chances, as if time has the power to turn you into a a withered, helpless pulp.

Manong Driver

By Jacob Clavano

It was a humid afternoon when I took a cab home. Like many others in the city, the cab didn't look too clean and comfortable to ride on. And like many others in the city, I didn't mind because I was used to it and I wanted to go home already.

From the client's office, we took to the back streets--the many little arteries that support life in this dirty city--and within moments we were already along the expressway to the suburbs. The ride was uneventful until the cab driver embarrassingly told me that he did not know the way to Alabang.

On the things I've become

By Isabel Rodriguez

I was reading an old friend’s blog when I realized that I’ve reinvented myself so many times. (Admittedly, it wasn’t just the blog. A barrage of old photos that have surfaced because of Multiply closing down, added to the discovery of my first blog’s password may have amplified this recollection.)

#YOLO

By Henrick Batallones

Apart from a few times when I can claim to be one of the first to know something - most of which happened during a past life as an American television pundit - I’m often late when it comes to trends. It took me a year to join Friendster, two to join Facebook, and three to join Twitter, although to be fair, I considered joining that site when I was still in college, but didn’t because I thought I wouldn’t have time to tweet.

Cheers to all!

By Isabel Rodriguez

I’ve gone a long way. There was a time in my life when hydrating meant grabbing a beer, or whatever had enough alcohol in it and every occasion was a cause for a drink. You passed a subject? Cheers! You broke up with your boy toy? Cheers! You flunked out of school? Cheers! You found your earring? Cheers! You wanna beer? Cheers!

A letter from my 20 year-old self

By Gabe Brillantes

 Dear 18 year-old self,

I remember you looking forward to reaching your legal age, you couldn’t wait to do a lot of things! You thought you were old enough to do absolutely anything you want: get a job, have your own place, drive a car, get a boyfriend...yet it seemed to me like none of these things have come to actuality. This does not necessarily mean that the future is turning bleak for you, it just means that all these things take time. Well for the boyfriend part it mostly depends on you, on whether you want to go for that guy who has been bugging you nonstop-just kidding-there is no guy. On the brighter side, you have your friends who are always up for anything, what more can you ask for? They were there for you during your first heartbreak, they were there when you celebrated your debut, and they would most likely be there for you on your wedding day. Don’t you think it is a little too early to think of such things?

“When will it be your turn?”

By Sara Almario

I believe I read this quote at Facebook once. I tried looking for it again but since I can’t find it, I’ll paraphrase it:

“(For girls) When you finish high school, you go to college. When you go to college, people ask you, ‘when will you graduate?’ When you graduate, you get asked, ‘when are you going to get a job?’ When you get a job, you get asked, ‘when are you getting a boyfriend?’ You get a boyfriend, you get asked, ‘when will you get married?’ After you get married, people will then ask you, ‘when are you getting a baby?’”

Romantic Comedies

By Stargirl

I’ve always been a fan of romantic comedies. I devoured the formulaic plot with so much passion. Awkward girl meets interesting (yet complicated and enigmatic) guy who immediately catches her eye. Imperfect world ensues, and for some reason sets them apart. Girl finds herself in the arms of an equally gorgeous, loving, stable, (yet plain and predictable) man-- who also in the end selflessly lets her go and wishes her happiness with interesting guy. Well, it is something like that or some close derivative. (Think “The Notebook”, “Sweet Home Alabama”, “Serendipity,” to name a few)

A hypothetical scenario: the effects of dopamine and the effects of the lack thereof.

By Isabel Rodriguez

Long ago, I decided that I was going to be with you.

I was walking towards that place I’d always see you at, but I wasn’t hurrying like I always do when I was about to meet you; I knew you weren’t there. I was happy, almost skipping in my step (You see the things you made me do? You made me almost skip!) because last night we had that conversation about our dreams and I felt like we connected. Never mind that the future you seemed to build in your head had not included me, I’ll make space for myself. There is hope for us yet!

The Last Summer

By Isabel Rodriguez

The last summer I’ll ever have was quick, fleeting, and unappreciated. I had just finished two semesters at a school I just transferred to, and my transition back to the south from the center Manila had not been a smooth one. I missed the busy, confusion of the metro; the buzz and the rush of the city. The suburbs of the south seemed too slow, too quiet, almost too relaxed. I figured it was just a matter of time before this point in my life passes so I decided to look for something to do in the meantime. I busied myself with work (a summer job). Time passed, and the summer was over. 

Love the Morena Skin You're In!

By Lornadahl Campilan

Skin whitening and weight loss advertisements and the huge space allotted for such products in shops always make me want to cry. Why is it damn hard for us to love the skin we're in? the extra sexy body we’re in? Why does it have to take foreigners to appreciate our naturally sun-kissed skin?

What you should do before you turn 3-0 thirty.

By Chrystel Ilano

Make as much mistakes as you can.
Now that we’re at our twenties, this should be the best time to take great risks and make mistakes. Stop being scared about the outcome of everything! This is time where we should do what we want and explore everything and anything that we want to! It’s better to look back ten years from now knowing that we were able to do everything we wanted.

“A person, who never made a mistake, never tried anything new.” –Albert Einstein

“Never be afraid to do something new, remember, amateurs built the arc; professionals built the titanic.” -Unknown

A note from my father:

What happens when you're emotionally stable.

By Isabel Rodriguez

When I say emotionally stable, I mean sort of. I mean the end of your adolescent rage and the need to feel depressed about every single thing. Rising up from the ruins of your emotional suicide and walking away. So when I say emotionally stable, I really do mean it in the mildest way possible. I don't mean being Mary Poppins-- that would be something to be depressed about. 

Breathe in, Breathe out

By Janessa Villamera

Turning twenty can be a big deal to most people, especially for my case: I'm about to end my last teenage year.

Others say that age is just a number but why should one fear getting old if, in fact, it's not the same as growing up? Indeed, maturity doesn't come with age; that's why a constant reminder of acting your age is essential yet again, it's not enough. 

Confessions of a Homemaker

By Regine Orme

Several bewildered people have felt inclined to point out how young I look. As young as 12. They are taken aback and never believe me when I say I'm already almost 24. Doubtful, they insist I'm younger and they give me a stink eye for being married and a mother. Apparently, I'm lying about my age.


Some days I feel like I am only 12. Am I old enough to be a wife? Am I old enough to raise a human being? Am I even mature enough? I find myself asking these questions as my husband Ryan and I battle in Street Fighter X Tekken on Xbox 360 while our 5-month-old baby stares at us in awe, perhaps having thoughts similar to mine. Are these people really my parents? Are they really supposed to be raising me? Are they mature enough?

DETOURED!

By Sara Almario


I hate detours. As a driver, if I see a detour sign up ahead, I end up cursing everything and everyone that I can see. That’s how much I hate detours. Why? Because instead of going straight to my destination using the usual road that I take, I end up following detour signs that lead me further and further away from where I’m supposed to go. Also, since I have a horrible sense of direction, I always end up getting lost in the process.

That’s not ours: A quick reminder that pandesal and basketball is our culture, not apple pie and baseball, or Kimchi and Starcraft

By: Micah Andres

I blame America for all of this anxiety and depression we feel. Their dominance of popular culture has engrained itself into our collective psyche, forcing us to live life through their eyes. I think it’s no stretch of the imagination if I say that most of you reading this come from the middle-class and up.

Who says growing up isn't cool?

By Patricia Louise F. Villarica


(Editor’s Note: This is a 19 year old's thoughts on turning 20, on the prospect of hope and all that she could achieve. On the next quarter-life crisis you’ll be having, this will be a refreshing read. Go on, inspire yourself with Patricia’s optimism.)

I promise I'm not that weird, I'm just a 19 year old girl who simply can't wait.

Halfway through halfway through

By Henrick Batallones

"Dear friends, family, and just about everyone who loves me: I want a Baby Alive for my 23rd birthday. It's on the 18th of February. Thanks."

"23 na tayo. Wah."


 It should be a breakthrough for me. Somebody else is turning 23 at almost the same time as me! I was, after all, always surrounded my people a year older than me, thanks to me skipping a year of pre-school. Sure, I know people who are also the same age as me, if not much younger, but here's where my propensity to pull myself down comes in: it still feels like they're older than me. Definitely more mature.

Journey to a 'happily ever after'.

By Nathalie Naval

It’s every (almost) young girl’s dream—to meet your prince charming, to wear your white long dress, and to walk down the flower-infested aisle. I don’t speak for every girl out there, but I believe majority of us, in some miniscule part of our childhood, thought of this scene as our ideal love story. Who wouldn’t, right? After all, we’re surrounded by countless fairy tales with all the princes, princesses and their ‘happily ever afters’. Well at the very least, that was the case for me, who was born in the ‘80s.

A note to all the 20-somethings who are still in school, and a little bit about me.

By Micah Andres

You’re a lot more normal than you think and people who say otherwise are idiots and you should just go ahead and shut them up with a swift kick to the face: 

A note to all the 20-somethings who are still in school, and a little bit about me.

 Whether by choice or by accident, you somehow found yourself at 23, still in college, still trying to pursue that pesky diploma as if your life depended on it. Of course you will never have a shortage of people who will not stop reminding you of just how important, crucial, beneficial, life-or-death-changing, a thing that college degree is. Aside from that, you also have to deal with high school batch mates and college batch mates from god-knows-when who will dole out (with much gusto and smugness) their experiences with work and how you have it so much better because “you have NO idea, as in, NO idea, what work is like”.

Of Pimples and Perspectives

By JC Villalva

  I have not been blessed with the most wonderful, glorious, porcelain skin. But I can say, that I’m lucky enough to not have my face plagued with acne ever since my hormonal days. Sure, I’ve had quite a share of zits here and there, but I’ve never had a time when they would all pop out of nowhere to turn my face into a talking, breathing mountainous range of the Himalaya pimples. What I hate about my skin is that whenever something important like a presentation comes, a zit would tag along with the anticipation. It’s as if that little part of me wants to show everyone in the audience how amazing it is to have bacteria conquer a single pore because I forgot to wash my face the night before. Uhh, right.

Growing up and being 20++

By Isabel Rodriguez

I always thought that by 20 I’d have grown into “the person I would be”– a vague idea when being imagined by a twelve year old. Three years into my twenties, and yet the person I find myself to be is nothing like the fictitious, mature self I’d assumed I’d just turn into one day. When you're twelve, no one ever tells you that change is a conscious effort or that growing up is not synonymous to growing old. I was, as Christopher Lao  put it, not informed.