Existentialism

My goal every year is to declutter my digital space as much as possible. It’s not that I haven’t deleted enough files; it’s just very difficult for me to let go of many digital files in my cloud storage and Google Drive, even if they’re from five or ten years ago. Some of that clutter seems to be part of my brain's long-term memory bank.

While I was focused on digital decluttering, I stumbled upon my old collection of music CDs, which led me to listen to quite a few of them. Some I had completely forgotten about, and I was surprised to find that I even had them, especially those records whose origins I couldn't recall. One of the CDs I rediscovered was from one of my favorite bands when I was a freshman in college: Imago. I used to listen to their album on my way to school while stuck in traffic, and I thought about how prolific their lead vocalist, Aya, is, since she wrote most of the band’s songs. The lyrics are often profound, radical, and sometimes spiritual. I heard she listens to Ani DiFranco, which inspired her to incorporate spoken word into some of the band’s songs—a unique touch that I appreciated back then.

I now consider their first album, *Probably Not But Most Definitely*, a classic. The first album is always the best; I’m not saying the subsequent albums weren’t good, but they sound quite different from the second album onward. There are still several tracks on their third album, *Blush*, that I really liked, and those tracks lingered in my mind for a long time. For instance, “So Be It” is one of the few songs I loved from their third album, and I still enjoy it today. While decluttering and listening to this song simultaneously, I had an a-ha moment and realized what the song is truly about after all these years.

“So Be It” is a song about surrendering and letting God lead the way. I’ve always loved this song for its melody rather than its lyrics, which didn’t resonate with me back then, even though I was sonically drawn to it. Perhaps it takes age to understand certain things, and my worldview back then was much different from what it is now, shaped by my life experiences. I then realized that Aya is a Christian, which explains the song's spiritual meaning. I am Catholic, though not a devout one, and I’ve recognized that my relationship with God has changed since my mom passed away. She was the religious one, and if she noticed I hadn’t been going to church, I would definitely get an earful. Believing in God keeps me sane, but my social awkwardness prevents me from attending church; I’d rather watch Sunday Mass via live streaming.

I teared up and I don't even know why after listening to “So Be It” in its entirety. I felt a pang of guilt for having lived my life solely on my terms while constantly asking God about my purpose. I guess I’m really getting older because I’m more focused on finding the meaning of my existence and my life purpose, often without trusting God’s will and His plans for me. So, I began to wonder: what if I let Him lead the way? Maybe I would find more meaning in this little life of mine. I realize I need to surrender to His will, maybe,  just maybe it’ll help me navigate through this never ending existential crisis of mine.

So be It song lyrics

Red-Nosed Raindeer

Holiday inspo 2024

Christmas comes early here in the Philippines—four months early, in fact—making our holiday season the longest in the world.

The Yuletide season remains my favorite because everything suddenly feels so magical. When you visit malls, they’re already beginning to deck the halls in all their shining, shimmering glory. I’m not sure what it is about this season, but it fills my heart with joy, reminding me of my childhood when my mom, who loved celebrating Christmas, would make it special. I think my twin sister inherited her love for the season and strong Christmas spirit. She has already finished shopping for Christmas presents and is now busy buying decorations. I can hardly keep up, as I prefer to rest on my days off and can’t be bothered. Still, I don’t want to dampen her festive spirit, so I feel obliged to shop for decorations too, haha! I usually just ask for links to buy Christmas decor online, place the orders, and let her wait for the deliveries.

This year, our color scheme is purple, gold, and coffee (or bronze?). My sister and I have agreed that next year, we’ll stop buying new baubles and decorations and stick to the colors we already have. We might go for traditional colors like gold, red, and green next year, but we’ll see how it goes. It’s mostly to cut down on holiday expenses and avoid accumulating a bunch of seasonal stuff. Let’s be honest—clutter is no fun. It’s a bit of a bummer that my sister and I are the only ones who enjoy decorating the house for the holidays; everyone else is just so boring! The only difference this year is that we have three new cats who haven’t experienced Christmas yet, so they’ll definitely get too excited and go straight for the tree. We’re already brainstorming ways to cat-proof the house this holiday season.

As for me, all I want this Christmas is fruitcake—and I’m not even a fan of sweet stuff, lol. It’s colorful, and most people seem to dislike it because of the rum, but I guess I like what most people don’t. Only 97 days until Christmas! Sleigh bells ring—are you listening?

A Heartfelt Film

It’s been a while since I last watched a movie that truly made sense. So when this movie went viral (it was only shown in Thai theaters so far), I became curious to watch it because everyone who saw it had nothing but nice things to say, calling it a tearjerker. I don’t often rely on hearsay since movies can be subjective—if it resonates with you, then it’s good. It’s all a matter of perception. But when Netflix acquired the rights to stream it, I couldn't wait to watch it.

Drama isn’t one of my favorite genres, to be honest, as I prefer horror and adrenaline-packed films—like *Fast & Furious*—something that will jar my often half-awake brain. However, my curiosity often leads me to explore things worth exploring, whether it be a film, a place, or something else intriguing.

Let me begin by saying that this film has beautiful cinematography—very raw. What you see is what you get. I miss these kinds of films; it’s like watching life unfold as it happens. The old houses and those metal accordion gates felt very familiar, reminding me of my upbringing in Manila, where most businesses are owned by Filipino-Chinese families. It felt like home. Not many people know this, but Thai people are mostly of Chinese descent, and in a way, we share similarities in terms of culture and values. Like the Thai, we Filipinos have close-knit family ties and care deeply for our elders.

The film is about Meng Ju, an elderly woman battling stage 4 colon cancer. She has three children, all married with families of their own. At first, her children didn’t want her to know about her illness, possibly to prevent further stress. Her grandson, M (yes, that’s his name), a university dropout, quits his job to care for her because he expects to inherit her house after she passes, giving him a place to live. Meng learns about her cancer because M, believing she has the right to know, tells her the truth—a logical decision.

One day, Khiang, Meng’s eldest son, visits her to persuade her to sell the house and move in with him so he can take care of her and relieve M of his caregiving duties. M, afraid of losing the house he hopes to inherit, tries to convince her not to sell, citing its proximity to her congee stall as a reason.

Sew, M’s mother, supports her brother Khiang’s decision to sell their mother’s house. At first, I thought the story was heading toward a typical scenario in many Asian families: the children wanting to profit from their parents’ property, split the proceeds, and move on. But as the story unfolded, I realized that wasn't the case. Meng agreed to sell the house to help her son Soei, the black sheep of the family, who is drowning in 100M of debt. It seems no family dynamic is complete without a black sheep.

When M finds out that his uncle Soei will benefit from the sale despite never caring for their grandmother, he is furious. He confronts Meng, asking why his uncle, who did nothing, will get the money while he has been caring for her in her final days and will receive nothing. Meng is moved to tears.

Meng passes away, and M is deeply involved in the wake, no longer holding a grudge. He participates because he truly cared for her, not because he was after the inheritance. One day, M receives a phone call, possibly from a lawyer or someone handling Meng’s estate. The film doesn’t reveal the details of the call, but it leaves M in shock. There’s a flashback of a conversation between M and Meng when he was a child. After picking him up from school, Meng asked what his wish was. He said he wanted to win 100M in the lottery so he could buy her a new house. I assume M got his wish, it was later on revealed that Meng saved up 100M under M’s name. I remember Meng leaving a note in a shrine wishing to win 100M. And that’s how the film ends.

I won’t lie—this film was incredibly moving, and I had a lump in my throat the entire time I watched it. It will make you cry if this kind of story resonates with you. I didn’t cry, maybe because I’ve never been in a similar situation, but I completely understand why Meng did what she did by risking her money for her prodigal son, Soei.

I’d like to share that it’s common in family dynamics to have one member who often loses their way. For example, in my family, my eldest sister was the most stubborn and difficult since her adolescent years. My parents devoted so much time trying to fix her, showering her with everything she wanted, but it didn’t help. My two other siblings and I grew close because we learned to be independent while our parents focused on my eldest sister, especially my mom. When I became an adult, I learned why my parents did what they did. My mom explained that a person will never understand the struggles of being a parent until they become one. Watching this film, I thought about that and realized it’s true: the black sheep often gets the reward, not because they worked hard for it, but because parents want to give the best to the child who needs it the most.