Happiness and The Lost Puppy

Happiness walked happily, despite the Genie’s absence – the only person that could make her happy.


“Everyone is relying on my happiness,” Happiness thought. “I should not be sad”, even if her heart is shattering.


A tiny bark could be heard once in a while but Happiness thought nothing of it. Now that she thinks about it, the tiny barks has been there even since the Genie was still around.


Happiness looked around, something Happiness never did before. Behind her, wagging its tail, is a little white puppy.


“Hello?”, Happiness waved. “Have you been following me?”


The little puppy happily wagged its tail with much gusto. Unlike the other beings Happiness met, this one is different. Her heart skipped a beat.


“You’re not tagging along anymore. You have to leave me too”, Happiness whispered.


The little white puppy whimpered and walked towards Happiness. Happiness sat down and hugged him.


“Its okay, I’m used to it. I hope you can find your way back”, Happiness smiled with tears streaming down her face.


The little white puppy licked her face that made Happiness giggled. “I will be okay”, she said.


Happiness hugged the little white puppy until he disappeared. Happiness stayed this way for a moment, her mind and her heart heavy.


After a while, Happiness stood up and walked happily.


“Everyone is relying on my happiness,” Happiness thought. “I should not be sad”, even if her heart is shattering.


2015: I’m Glad It Is Over

Every year is like a new chapter of a book – your life. Sometimes it can be personified as one of your friends, the reliable one or your fr-enemy, it’s up to you.

For me, it’s that one person who made you question your friendship. This was a bad year. How bad? Really really bad.

2015 is the year I cut my long lively hair because I was broken hearted over a facebook post. I knew adding him as a friend is not a good idea.

This is a year that I thought would be my last. I’ve hit depression so low I’ve barricaded myself from all my friends. It was the not usual seasonal kind of sad, nor the teenage rebellious phase, it was real.

I’ve never been so emotionless, so tired. Even the things I loved no longer appeals to me. I can’t read, I can’t eat, I stuffed myself of sleeping pills everyday.

I made excuses not to meet friends, I also made excuses not to have lunch at work. I despised human interaction.

I started asking myself, “What’s the point of all of this?”. I asked internet forums, I even registered to an online counselling. No one can answer me.

It changed one morning as I am taking a bath when I discovered something different. I had a pea sized lump in my right breast.

It surprised me that I did not feel any concern on this new discovery. As any matured adult would do, I went to see our office doctor for a consultation.

Nothing major, maybe I scratched it while I was sleeping. No surprise there, I almost always wake up with new scratch wound anyway.

Few weeks had passed and the lump was getting bigger, swollen, and it started to hurt.

I visited the doctor again and the first thing she asked me was, “do you have a history of breast cancer?”.

I said no, not that I know of.

She endorsed me to see a gynecologist, which in turn endorsed me to have a breast ultrasound. At this point, I can no longer walk for a long time without catching my breath. I completely lost appetite, I was just really tired.

The ultrasound technician (if that’s the right term) was a little bitchy, excuse my french. The first thing she said was, “get your hands up over your head”, I did so and she acted like I am wasting my time.

She stopped and looked at me.

“Do you have a history of breast cancer?”, she asked. I did not answer, this is serious.

“Okay, we’re going to get through this. It will be okay,” a sudden change of attitude? This is really serious.

She then proceeds to show me the monitor. “There are a lot of cysts here, and here, and here..”, her mouse clicking very fast.

“Okay. let’s have the other one.” I thought only the right one. “If the other one is infected, this one is also infected.”

True enough, there were another batch of mouse clicking for the left one. Though it did not swell, it had a lot of cyst inside.

“You will have to come back for another consultation. I will look into this thoroughly, don’t worry”, she said as she closed the door.

I was heavily medicated for the following months. I did not cancel my plans to go out of town on my birthday. I could not travel long enough as  was tired. My friends carry my luggage and was very understanding that I could not participate in any strenuous activities.

My symptoms was that of IBC (Inflammatory Breast Cancer), it was an aggressive type of cancer that tends to grow and spread quickly in a matter of hours or weeks. You can read more about it here.



The medication seems to have an effect and I was getting better. I took it as a sign of second chance in life, though I can honestly tell that some days I wanted it to be my escape.

I went home from work one night and saw our youngest dog, Lavagurr, on the floor. Though the other 3 dogs greeted me with the usual high energy, she just bobbed her head and ignore me.

I don’t know what’s wrong with her. She smells terrible. I asked my younger sister to talk to our neighbor to hire his cab to the animal clinic. The fastest he would be back is 7:30pm. It’s already 6:15pm. I declined, I need to be there immediately.

I called her again, she seems to be catching her breath. She’s in pain. I caress her head and told her I’m here.

She stood up, placed her head on my hand for a moment, then walked on the farthest corner of the room.

My mother arrived then, we rushed her to the animal clinic immediately. We could not find a cab as it was rush hour, we had no choice but to ride on a jeepney instead.

There was a point on the way that the vehicle stopped and would not start.As a girl who loves fiction, I’ve read about this kinds of omen a hundred times, yet I refuse to believe it.

We ran and placed her on the steel table. The nurse immediately said, “Ma’am, she’s gone”. He poked her eyes to prove that there’s no life in them.


I sat down and cried. It’s really different when someone told you it’s gone. It was weird, like a joke gone horribly wrong.
We picked a spot  near the river to bury her. It still felt weird. How could this stiff sticky object be my furry baby a while ago?

I could not move, I could not stop my tears. I felt paralyzed as my mother dig up the dirt for her resting place. I can’t do anything.

We arranged stones to cover her spot, said goodbye and never looked back.


One friend told me that a pet dies to save its owner. I do not know how great of a saving I am that my baby have to die.


These things brought too much of sadness for this year. The amount of good things that happened cannot surpass the level of sorrow these events have caused.

And I’m glad it will be over.


On Christmas day, I received a message I’ve been waiting years to receive:


I felt free of all the hatred I felt before, I felt all the sadness have ended at that moment and things will be okay again.

The only thought that keeps me going today is: it must be one hell of a bright future to be going through a lot of heartaches.

A Note from Mehj


I’m a little over myself to assume that some of you are waiting for a new post. It has been so long and I was down every weekend to squeeze my head of a new awesome story but nothing comes out.

I’ve been in a very personal evaluation thought process, if you may, for weeks now. In a span of 2 or 3 weeks, I was able to cleanse myself of all the negative feelings I had inside me. I know it sounds mushy but its the truth. I stumbled upon this process accidentally when I was drafting a speech for an advance speech project. Then Bam! You may call it spiritual, emotional or whatever, it feel effin’ amazing and peaceful.

Maybe that’s why I can’y right anything for this past weeks. I’m so darn peaceful that no adrenaline comes out for a juicy story. I might need a little shaking up. The wine does anything but help. Haha.

I will write soon. Hey, maybe it will come tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day, or the next day (Spongebob reference). Once I write, I will not disappoint you 🙂

I just want to feel this longer. Little or big emotions, no matter how good or bad, are meant to be felt. Besides, that’s what makes us human, right?


Forever loving,

Mehj M.

Juan Miguel Severo : My Longest Short Forever

I had trouble sleeping, and by trouble I mean the meanest among all the troubles.

I took my sleeping aid just as before, promptly a little after 10 in the evening and waited to take its effect, normally about 20 minutes.

But the last time I check the clock, it was past 4 in the morning and my nose is dripping like crazy.

I felt so sick I fell asleep.

It was the longest dream I had.

I was sitting in front of a long white table along with other people looking at different colored chips in front of us. But we were not to play poker, we have big chunks of clay instead. I never understood the game.

What I understand is, I saw my ex facilitating the game and I knew that I had to win. The reason, only those who were really broken before could understand.

I don’t know if I won. I stood up as the game comes to halt and talked to one of the elderly who happens to be a good acquaintance of mine.

You approached us.

Funny, I just liked your page 2 days ago and now you are standing in front of me.

“You know, I tell my friends we are very close, though I only saw you once,” I laughed to cover my lame attempt at flirting.

I then told you the first and last time I saw you, you captured my attention which very hard to catch. Ha.

It was an open mic poetry in one of the little cafe in Makati. You stood out. Of course you do. You’re like May-Pac fight, you were the main event.

You were the first person to make me feel alive with so many emotions by just saying a bunch of words.

“Why didn’t you recite your poem?”, you ask.

“Because I wanted to run away. Because I wanted to cry. Because I wanted…”, I stopped as the sorrow lingers through my words. I never thought I wrote such poem. It was so long ago, years even. About him. But now, he doesn’t matter.

You called my name to bring me out of my trance. “C’mon”, and we went around the place introducing me as your friend.

The longer we go, the closer we were.

I would hug you from behind as you talk and you would not mind.

Sometimes, when I’m talking, you’d put your arms around me and kiss my hair.

The audience tries hard to hide their smiles.

People are starting to settle down.

“Mic test. 1,2,3..”, the announcer echoed these words as we froze in place facing each other.

You’re going to the stage in a couple of minutes, you were the reason why we are all here. You were the main event.

I wanted to tell you good luck, though you clearly don’t need one. You’re always a masterpiece.

I wanted to tell you that I’m afraid you might forget me.

But hey, it was a great time being a public figure’s friend at least for a short minute 🙂

And I’m used to being forgotten anyway.

I looked up as you came closer. I gave a faint smile.

I still couldn’t make a sound.

I held on for your shirt tightly, I know you’ll get it. The strong connection we had right away. It was very rare for me.

Then you kissed me with full passion that I could not put into words.

I could only describe it as: the way I always wanted to be kissed.

Then you stopped abruptly, leaving me confused.

You ran to your paper and wrote vigorously, your poem.

And, you’re crying?

You sat down not saying a word. I was left alone standing in the same spot staring at you wide eyed.

“The more like this have, the sexier you are..”, you said as they started to introduce you. What does that mean?

You were sweating and nearly in tears like you were reciting your poems.

But you’re not.

Are you nervous? You were never nervous.

“You are so sexy, so amazing. Don’t waste it on…”, I could not hear the last word over the loud voice of the announcer. “Make an action, create your move…” The audience applauded as the announcer finally said your name.

You stood up and walked past me, battle face and ready.

“Once again, please welcome, Juan Miguel Severo!”, the announcer boomed over the mic and I opened my eyes in the real world.

Its now few minutes past 9 in the morning. I was asleep for only 4 hours.

Tears washed any lingering memories of those moments. I know I can’t just swim back to you. It’s impossible.

Once again, I’m left with the harsh reality that only I could remember what happened. That I am cursed to feel the love that was only in my dreams.

It happened before, and it happened again.

We actually do meet in dreams, share the exact moments, but only few can remember after they wake up.

I was right. After all the applause, you will forget me for you will wake up.

And just like I said, it’s great to be friends with a public figure.

It’s beyond words to be loved in those short moments.

And to be kissed the way I always wanted even only in dreams.

That I have lived happily in my longest short forever.

Juan Miguel Severo

(P.S. A tribute to Juan Miguel Severo, Artist, Singer, Poet. Great talent pushed past my consciousness and into my dreams. Haha)


You’re surfing through your favorite social media site and you witness this post so awkward it almost ruin your day. Maybe its a post about insane ranting, those simple things that can be ignored yet shared instead. Those name dropping (or worst, tagging) of rude posts you can almost feel them fighting within the realms of the internet. Or those pictures that you wish you can buy an eye bleach to wash it off your memory.

I have nothing against these people. Sure, if they have additional brain cells they would not post and share this “too personal” things. Might as well create a blog right? But I never delete them. No matter how insanely stupid and ridiculous they seem, they’re my friends.

But alas! Karma is a female dog. Life has given me an opportunity to experience an awkward moment that I can finally share with you. Of course this is very unfortunate on my part.

If you are familiar with McKinley Hill in BGC, you know it can only be accessed through 2 exit points. And I work in the very middle part of this area.

However, the management knows this and allow free internal shuttle service. At first it was a big bus that could fit over 70 people, then they downgraded to a mini van/shuttle that could hold maybe 25 people sardines (sitting and standing).

It was one Wednesday afternoon that I finished my shift, eager to go home to my dogs and puppies. I was the last girl that fit in the shuttle. And by fit, I mean stand in front of the shuttle door, holding on to the pole for my dear life.

There is a huge lady (I said huge, not fat. I want you to remember that!) who came before me and so she is standing on my left half hugging me while we hold to the same pole on my right.

I do not have a problem with the usual invasion of personal space that we have trouble breathing normally, I am used to this, unfortunately. My problem is with the lady.

Her right arm goes over my back to hold to the pole. Then something starts poking me.

Her right boob.

Her right boob pokes my poor left arm like a friend she had never seen a long ago.

Every move of the shuttle, poke. Every turn, poke. Every stop poke.

It’s like my arm is being boob-raped.

Now don’t get me wrong. I love boobs. I see a pair of them every morning and they are just majestic.

But hers was not majestic.

Hers was aggressive.

Poke! Poke! Poke!

And you know what? She doesn’t even care!

I’m a girl and I know even when my babies are being stared at. I feel the stare.

But this lady (again, huge, not fat), her right boob, the very physical form, is in contact with my bony left arm and she doesn’t react at all!

I am a very sensitive person in terms of my surroundings. And I can tell you that my surrounding is very aware.

They were all staring at me. Eyes on this little festivity.

I could not do anything but to stare blankly ahead with my poker face. Screaming in my head, “This too shall pass. Have faith!”

What felt like eternity soon come to its end. The doors opened and I did not wait for the shuttle to come to its full stop. I jump right out still feeling those stares at me with now smiling faces.

I felt dirty that day.

Never thought I’d cringe to the thought of a single boob.


One Moment…

I can’t breathe.

Have you ever been in that situation? The moment you’ve been waiting for a really long time. You’ve been planning for years, practicing what will happen.

And when the opportunity comes, you suddenly don’t know what to do, how to feel. You can’t breathe.

This is that moment. I told myself I will know what I will say, I will come prepared.

But no. I want to run. I want to scream. I want to pause. Cry until I sleep and wake up when I know what I am suppose to feel.

You see, our paths crossed finally. Its funny, really. Of all things, it was on Facebook.

No, not ‘The One’ (but maybe he is reading this). Not any lover.

My brother. My older brother. My half older brother.

We are all aware that me and my siblings were not the only one. We grew up with the truth anyway. My father had a son and daughter before he met and married my mother.

Its epic, like a drama series. Really. My mother, since I was a kid (I’m the eldest) told us we are not alone. My father did not deny it, but did not admit either.

At first I was angry, anger is in my young blood. But when I grew up, I grew curious. I wanted to meet them.

Some days I tell myself that I’ll be mean to them. They are not the real family anyways. But other days I want to imagine all of us sitting in a big table on christmas. Two families but one.

I knew what to feel.

But now I realize I don’t.

To My First Love…

Hear me out first.

I was reading my old blog posts when I stumble to the very years I was blogging about you, about us. But there was never really an us, right?

This was several months ago. I tried to dismiss the idea of assessing what I should be feeling. To be frank, I felt torn.

It brought me to the part why it stopped. The singing of birds. Birds, just like what I used to call you.

I was very innocent and ignorant. How funny it is, I had you, my first love, when I was in college. Talk about late bloomer.

It wasn’t that magical, it was scientific. Star city trip with the whole class, sitting beside you at Surf Dance while I scream and cry. Not of terror but of rage to one person. And you laughed, and we seemed drunk. And that night was the start of it all.

You were perfect. Just perfect. Its not right, I know. Nobody could be that perfect, but you were. Only shows how ignorant I am.

You made me feel special, our souls touch through each long stare, content silence, and hugs that mattered. It was all too perfect, all too new, and it made me scared.

I know you tried hard to show me you’ll be there, but my fears were stronger than your love. I was afraid until I pushed you away. Until you grew tired.

We were done even before we start. Was it around, 3 months? Looking back now, it seemed like a wonderful dream.

I did not write this to come back to those times. In fact, I do not know why I am writing this. Perhaps I still not forgive myself. For pushing something so good. I did not even let myself know your flaws. It was too short.

I was still in love with you even after that. I still have dreams of you. It went on for like, 2 years? Silently watching, waiting for the accidental glances. But again, if you approached, I would still resist.

Until the dreams became a blur. Before, there were long walks, my head on your shoulders. Day after day you became so cold, and you now try to walk the other way once you see me. In those dreams. And we both know why. You and my closest friend became official. The girl who knew how mad I am in love with you.

That was crazy, I wanted to die. But it was long ago. College will be forever crazy. We will laugh about those times for the years to come.

We now have separate lives.

I know you know we tried to see if it will work again, right? Do you remember that night? Was it last year? How time flies.

But we are no longer young like we were before, no longer innocent, we grew apart. We caught up, we laughed, but I felt nothing else. If there was on your side, I’m sorry, there was none for me.

Looking at you now (social media of course), I could see you are really happy. It was so long since I saw you smile like that, genuinely happy.

I wish she would bring you fruits when you are sick. Now, I bring fruits too, to my friends.

That you will serenade her with songs you always sing from your heart with your lovely voice. I’ve met a lot of ugly voices, all of them beautifully singing from their souls.

That in every stare you show her you love her, you make her feel, and if needed, you tell her.

I would like to say I am in the same situation as you are right now. But you know me, one time big time.

If I hadn’t met you, I believe I would not know that I am in love. And I am right now. Madly in love. But he doesn’t know. And I like to think that it doesn’t matter. I was in love with you before and the universe conspired to bring us together. It would not happen again. If it does, well, it seems I won the lottery and a free dinosaur! Haha. Its impossible. But if it does, very little chance that it does happen, I will never let it go again. I spent enough time to fantasize, might as well make it come true 🙂

I always believe people meet for a specific reason, and I’ve met you to let me know the wonderful feeling, this amazing stage in life. This moment that could not be described by words alone.

I guess what I’m trying to say is, I am genuinely happy that you are very happy. I am and I know I will be more happy someday.

I now forgive myself for all my faults. I hope you’ve forgiven me though I know its so long ago. Still, I am truly sorry.

And to remind you of our promise, we will invite each other to witness the exchange of vows, remember? 🙂

So Tweet-tweet, my cupcake, soar high and fly!

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