Tattoos, Mothers, and Twitter

My friend and I were talking about tattoos. We both want one, but what if our mothers find out? We may not fear God, but we both fear the wrath of our mothers. My mother keeps me more grounded than religion ever could. There are some decisions I don’t dare to make because of my mother, such as permanently inking my skin. There’s also the issue of marriage. It’s not that I don’t want to get married, because I do. But how much of that wanting to get married is because I personally want to, or because my mother wants me to?

She asked me what kind of tattoo I want to get. For a while now, I’ve wanted to ink the sentence “the enemy’s gate is down” from Ender’s Game across my collar bones. I imagine it will hurt badly, so let’s reconsider the placement of the tattoo later. Not to mention it would be very big and visible there. But I want those words on my skin. It’ll be an homage to my favorite book. It’ll also be a reminder of optimism, strategy, and victory.

All of a sudden, I thought of another tattoo I want to get. A tesseract tattoo. Or ‘warping’ for Trekkies. Check this out:

An excerpt from Madeleine L'Engle's "A Wrinkle in Time" regarding tesseract.

An excerpt from Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time” regarding tesseract.

I want a tattoo of an ant, tesseracting from my forearm to my bicep. The tattoo won’t have to be big. I can have a small ant on top of a thin line or a small dot on my forearm. Then the end of the line or the other small dot would be on my bicep. To show the ant tesseracting, I just have to fold my arm and voila! Damn it, now I want that tattoo badly.

It’ll be another homage to my favorite book ♥ and at the same time, it’ll say a lot about me, summarized in a group of tiny pictures. It’ll tell my love for SFF, my muse of and neverending hope in science, and my faith that we’ll travel the stars one day. That we will reach far beyond our eyes can see. It’ll be great to pair it up with the Ender’s Game tattoo.

As for my friend, she wants a tattoo of a cage and a bird. I joked about it being a bird out of its cage and she got mad lol the interesting part is, she wants a silhoutte of a bird as a symbol for many things. I didn’t expect one of them to be Twitter.

I think all millenials would agree that Twitter has not only changed our lives, but it has become a part of our lives. I can’t imagine not having a Twitter. I have retired most of my Twitter accounts, but I don’t delete them. Twitter is a part of my identity, and it’s one of my streams of self-expression. It doesn’t show a full picture of me, but it still shows a lot. It is there where I make and interact with a lot of friends. It’s my number one source of lightning news update. It’s a constant pool of discussion and debates. And you get to share your piece with the rest of the world, through different communities. Twitter is a social magic. It is how we connect these days. It also serves as a micro diary as well as a personal announcement platform. Out of all of my social media accounts, Twitter is the only one I have consistently maintained. It’s not an overstatement to say that it has shaped me into the person I am today, and I believe I’ll still be using it in decades to come.

My future biographer would have a hell lot of material from my Twitter alone.

Share Button

This Room

Technically, I don’t have a home. This room I sleep in, this 70m3 unit I lounge in, is rented space. When the lease ends, there will be no bed for me to sleep in, not one that I can call mine anyway. I have to find a new room to rent, or mom has to knock down some walls at her house and build a room for me.

Technically, I have never had my own room. I used to share a room with my sister. When I lived with my aunt, I slept in my late grandma’s room. There was also a time in high school I deliberately moved to the tiny attic at our rented house, just so I could have a room for myself. Then there was the time I left home and had an empty room at this failing hotel to myself save for a bed, a desk, and a TV. Was there a closet? I can’t remember.

Of course, afterwards, I moved from kos-kosan to kos-kosan until I could afford to rent an apartment. But that’s the thing. None of these rooms I’d stayed in over the years were rooms I could call mine. They were all rented space. I have a right to the area for a period of time, and when the time’s up, it’s not a destination I can go home to anymore.

Everytime I see people’s homes, or hear people saying they’re going home, I always wonder what their rooms look like. How many hours in a day do they stay there? What kind of stuff they keep there? If one day I go bankrupt and get evicted, is there somewhere I can go home to without invading anyone’s space? Will I have a bed for myself? If one day I have a fight with my husband, will I be able to go home to my parents’, to their already full houses?

I think about this sometimes. It’s mainly my motivation to start that KPR on houses or apartments. Just so I can have a permanent place to go home to. I have a lot of books, they certainly need to go somewhere. A place where the door is mine to lock up when I don’t feel like meeting anyone. Somewhere to bury my time capsule.

Share Button


I just finished rereading Fruits Basket. It took 3 readings to finally understand Tohru’s character. She has a huge empathy. And it’s the key trait that leads to the resolution of the story. She cries easily for other people’s pain, and for that they love her.

Sympathy comes easy for me. Empathy is another story. I can’t recall if I’ve ever cried for someone else other than sob stories I read or watch. Then again, I suspect I merely cry vicariously through those stories. I’m a self-centered bitch and I only cry for my own misery.

I wondered if anyone ever cried for me. Then I remembered. Someone did.

We were in junior high. We used to be in the same classes. She was a good friend. I guess we were close. I told her about how I was raised by a step-mother, and that I didn’t know who my biological mother was. Suddenly she cried. Out of nowhere, tears came streaming down her sharp cheekbones and I was stunned. Why did she cry? I wasn’t looking for pity. I was just sharing. And she said she never thought such family drama would exist for real, because her family was happy, and so she cried.

Looking back at it, I’m not entirely sure if she was crying for me, but I was touched. It was such an unexpected reaction. I didn’t think I’d ever have a friend like that. She may not know it, but she gave me faith that there are good people in life. It’s a small thing to do, but she gave me faith in humanity. I treasured her for caring so much for me.

As time went by, we drifted apart, like most of us do. But she remembered me when she was getting married. I was one of the bridesmaids. Now she’s a happy mother of two.

We may not be close friends the way we used to be, but thank you. Thank you, Z.

Share Button


I want to write a book. I’m going to call it A Month of Being in Love, Another Month of Moving On. I didn’t expect knowing yourself would yield this kind of result. Nowadays I make decisions faster than ever. That’s how certain I am of myself.

It didn’t take long to conclude that I was in love. It took even less time to accept that he broke my heart, he’s not coming back, and I can do better. Hanging out and talking with other people helped a lot in this case. Perspective: the quickest way to carry on. I don’t even feel like I have to pick up the pieces of my heart anymore. There’s nothing to sweep off the floor. I tried. I failed. And it’s ok. If only I was this sure of myself all those years ago, high school would have been much easier.

When I remember how swamped I am at work, it feels petty to think of relationships. But the truth is, my career is fine. I’m already heading to where I want to be. I’m on the right track and I know I’ll get there. But as my roommate says it’s unfortunate that I don’t have the same conviction when it comes to relationships. I tend to think I’ll never be good enough.

It’s time to break the cycle. Thanks for making me see that.

Share Button

I’m Going to Get Married

I hear it almost every time I meet people. Why are you still single? When are you going to get married? It’s not that I don’t want to get married, but it’s not my priority right now. Not to forget that I haven’t found the man I want to marry yet. Then people would start to offer me their matchmaking services. What kind of man do you prefer? Well, it’s pretty hard to describe.

The more I think about marriage, the more precise my preference is, it even scares me a little. I refuse the idea of a marriage as ‘settling down’. I don’t want to settle down. I want us to keep having adventures side by side. I want us to keep looking for higher mountains to climb. I don’t want our life to stop the minute we have children. Let’s have children and conquer the world. We will raise them to be leaders and scientists. Let’s settle down only when we cannot stand upright anymore. Let’s be Bean and Petra, Theo and Violet, Han and Leia.

I’m not (entirely) opposed to the idea of marriage. I’m actually a little bit excited at the prospect. But I’m only going to marry someone this open-minded and ambitious enough for this lifetime adventure. I know you’re there. I haven’t given up looking for you, so please don’t give up looking for me.

She’s badass with a good heart, soft but strong, unapologetic and honest, she’s the type of woman you go to war beside, she’s the type of woman you marry. (R. H. Sin)

Share Button