On Being Delusional.

Wrote this when I was in San Diego over winter break. Somewhat applicable, just maybe not so dramatic :) But for the sake of the integrity of this entry, I shall keep it the same. #shameful

I am an idiot to think that I have control over my life. Now, don't get me wrong. I will choose accordingly the things that I can, whether that be in my career, my personal, or just even my day to day decisions but when it comes to what is bigger than today, I give up dude. I have no fucking clue.

I am going down the road where my thoughts, my desires do not match my givens. My aunt warned me about this. I need to give up what I think I need. Or more so, of what I think I want. I write constantly about my thoughts, my sentiments, my analogies to life and Biology, about giving oneself, hoping, believing, Love, etc. and you would think that I would be an expert to knowing how to distribute these things in my life. But when a moment presents itself, I lose myself in this whirlwind of past sentiments, which consumed me in ways that just made things harder to digest. It's weird that I throw myself in shit that makes me feel... more like shit.

I am so delusional. To think that I have the ability to transform a way a person sees me. When in reality, the only image that matters, that will ever matter, is how I see myself. And the funny thing is, I really like me. Not in this cocky, dude "I'm the shit" sort of way. But in a way that I am proud of what I am building towards. I feel good about who I am and I know what I can offer others, objectively with compassion. I acknowledge my weaknesses and approach them with responsibility. Then, what's the problem? When a moment presents itself, I fucking lose it. To be fair, this 'moment' was more of a very dense all-day event of moments that just was not part of my original agenda. I want to say that it was better than what I had expected but in the end, I think I was fooling myself to think that it mattered. I felt used because within a second of a pretend nap, I find what really is happening happen right in front of me. I lost me. With all the work and all the conversations and all the insight. I got ruffled, confused, drunk. And lost it. My core. My person that I was so proud of these past two months.

I have thrown myself, displayed all that is me on a platter and even then it didn't feel like enough. And not in the sense of enough for another person but for me. It either was too much of who I thought I needed to be or not enough of me that I've created these past few months. It isn't' even about self-respect anymore at this point. I am just a fool. A tired fool.

I need to walk away. Not because I do not love you, not even because it hurts, but because at that point, it isn't what I think it is anymore. There is no love anymore to fight for. Just a way to compete for your attention. And I already lose in that race because I don't have the proximity nor your attention. 

Love is already a very complicated thing. There is much to filter out and figure out or at least honor what is left between this exchange, but I realized that I forced myself blind to see that there is another person involved. And even though I want to fight for that Love, I won't compete with it. The best, and the most obvious, choice for me to do is to just walk away. I am delusional to think that I'll win this race. The winner has already been chosen, and as much as I think I can influenced it with the life we built, I realize that I am no longer part of the identity you want to build for yourself. Plus, she's cute and a breath of fresh air. To think that I can persuade otherwise, 400 miles away without being able to just be there. Is false. I have no voice where I am, mainly because there is no one listening.

And the funny thing is, I was in the complete opposite mindset use a couple days ago. Now, don't think that for a second that what I wrote then is not pertinent or discreditable in any way. Am I forgetful or wavering? What is worst? I am but a fool. I just have to remember when I felt good it was when I took care of myself.

This too shall pass.

On my Uncle.

The brother of my father, Dr. Sylvester Almiron, is an amazing man. It may seem obvious that he, being the physician of the family, would be the person I would want to emulate and find him not only significant but relevant. Yet the reason I honor him transcends beyond the stories of his practice in medicine and extends to the relationships he established and contributed to in addition to becoming a prominent clinician.

My uncle lives a life of faith. Even as a man of science and medicine, I see through his decisions and actions that his strong sense of hope and presence of strength comes from a belief that there exists an entity beyond him and his reason. This spiritual disposition is an understatement since my uncle’s father, my grandfather, is a pastor. When my uncle was a young boy, he would go with his father on home visits to those who were sick and whose families had asked the pastor to pray over them.

My uncle, after witnessing the praying over the sick, asked his father if there was more that they could do. And although prayer has its own power in it of itself, my uncle wanted a more tangible response to these physical ailments. It is in those moments where he discovered the medium of where he would do his ministry, through the field of medicine.

Another aspiring story that comes into mind is when my uncle established a prominent Filipino community in his hobby, tennis. There were not so much training grounds for those living in the suburbs of New York for the minority community. Most spaces were already preoccupied with a particular, exclusive tenants that were not as welcoming to him or his family. When the problem arose where his children had no space to play as well as no coaches to teach the, my uncle responded by building a tennis court in his backyard and then received his credentials to coach tennis. He stands as an awarded coach and a prestigious figure in his local tennis community.

My most significant memory of my uncle, however, goes back to that of my father. Although I was too young to understand the gravity of circumstances my father endured towards the later years of his life, I am grateful to say that my uncle was there in ways that I can only hope for. My father entered rather foreign territory when he became ill with a diagnosis that was of a novelty at that time and as appropriate as it was, my father’s brother happened to be a doctor. And although my uncle could not free him from his ails, his experience as a caretaker allowed him to provide a significant amount of support. Every month, my uncle would fly from New York to California to visit his little brother.

His life not only tells me how to become a successful physician but also on how to be a good person: a person of faith, a person of courage and most importantly, a person of compassion. What he has done and continues to do with his life inspires me and humbles me to not only become an amazing physician but to be a person of noble character as well. 

On Being a Hoe.

I know that the word 'hoe' can seem derogatory but hear me out first. Although I would not want to admit this on a public forum, I used to be 'a very big hoe' (extra points to those who can identify where that line comes from). The main spurts of when this would happen, typically occurred during or after a break up. I go all balls out when it came to partying and doing the things that we judge other people for doing. Even though we've all been there before. Where we do not want to take responsibility of our circumstances, responsibly. We desert the familiar rather abruptly and then submerge ourselves in behaviors that may be less lady - or gentleman - like. Side question, what do you call a man that is a hoe? Man hoe? Sounds like a tool. Ha get it? I love that I can make myself laugh. Puns gotta love them.

So now, I am sorta in the same situation as before, where I can "hoe out" but this time its a little different. Call it more 'self-respect' or maturity or lack of energy but I can tell that my response in this situation is different. Don't get me wrong, anyone that knows me knows that I can do the deed but its just takes too much to be a hoe right now. What I don't need to do is people, what I do need to do is get A's. Don't want an attractive man, rather a ridiculously sexy record that I can boast around during medical school interviews. And like they say, its the time to be selfish. I want to hoe out on school/ applications/my entire future career and/or life. I've been lucky enough to have a playful past of lovers and fleeing 'acquaintances'. All of which were ridiculsouly consuming love stories. But for now I choose the less hoe-y road and temporarily retire the 'falling in love' outfit.

I know it sounds like a cop out but really, energy and time are very limited entities. To do what you need to do, as I am learning, requires compartmentalization. And for right now, its all about the career, the foundation, the making the means for the life I've always dreamed of. If Love is love, it'll be there later. I dreamt of a very grandiose, overly joyful, expensive future. And so, in the name of that love and life I hold so close, I need to commit myself to the work that will require to have that life I want to live. Every single day. I want a home filled with ridiculously unnecessary but cute stuff and a nice ass view. I want children, where they can be carelesslely ambitious and driven.

As they say, there is a time and place for everything. Do the work now, check options later. I have invested well enough in the 'being in love/in a relationship/dating with my heart on my sleeve'  account, that its now time to do work. I want to be deliciously submerged in my self, my life, my work. As much as I've enjoyed the life and loves in my past, it is time for me to focus that love - that energy - that part of me to school, my future, me. I know it seems like I've side tracked from the "hoe" to "love" topic but in the end, it's all sorta the same thing, right? The real question then is, what do you want to hoe out on? Once you figure that out, go all balls out and hoe out on the things you love.

On Doubt.

I was unhappy for a very, very long time. The past couple of years of not-knowing, not being certain of any pathway that was available for me in order to pursue the career I wanted. Even with knowing what my vocation was, I still felt vulnerable, unhopeful, almost unhappy. Does unhappiness have to co-exist with uncertainty? When is anything certain?

I spoke to an old friend the other day, and caught up since it's been almost two years. Although we had so much to share, there were yet not enough words to exchange. We came to a discussion about how you just never know whether or not the person you may love, can leave at any one point. Disrupt the plans you may had in mind and question your self-worth. I should add that it was an ex-bf of four years. Weird conversation to have with a former lover. Let me tell you. Anyways, there seems to be this lingering doubt, until possibly one gets married, if that person you love now will stick it through the end. At any one point, love may depart. Which is fine and quite sufficient. Just painful sometimes, for both parties. So, goin back to the uncertainty, when you realize that this is [this, meaning life changing up on you] is all inevitable, then the real question is, what good can come from investing into something when the final outcome is not necessarily certain? When is it ever?

For the most part, these risks - this delving into the unknown has been good to me. Don't get me wrong, this jumping into the uncertain has made me semi-crazy. I write this with a tearful smile because it's taken me awhile to be here. Where, although I am not the most comfortable, I am content. Striving. Full. I have been wanting to feel like this for a very long time. After moving out to New York, I was so unsure about so many things. I moved without having a tangible future yet knew that what I had in San Diego was just not enough. I had to believe there was something at the end of the road, better than the life I had at the moment. Even now, I would have never thought that I would be here in Boston, in graduate school, in my own studio, single. Never thought I would be here but I am. And the scary part is - I am happy.

So even with all that doubt about where I will be, who I would be with, how it was all going to 'happen' - the outcome is still the same. I am grateful even though the ending result was not as originally hypothesized. Ultimately the energy to question was pointless. Because. Though life in itself is one huge ass variable, there was one constant. Me. As long as I can approach each circumstance, each decision, each relationship with my best effort, then I could trust that the "me" was enough. To doubt is predictable but not sustainable. Hope sort of finds its way through, even in the most skeptic. Now I'm not saying that  That even when you may not know the outcome, you still believe the world will work in your favor. Now, I'm not saying that you should throw your hands up in the world cuz the universe gots your back in everything or God is your homeboy, though all this can be true at times. I just don't believe that everything happens for a reason anymore. Because despite where you lie in favors with the world, you still need to put in your earnest labor towards whatever it is, with honest intention, and constant integrity. You. All you. 

People, decisions, plans, careers.. change often. And its a hell of a lot easier accepting that, even empowering to understand that those things constantly morph, at any one point, at times often what  deems as the worst time possible. The only bad thing you can do to hurt you is attach too much to whatever that is and so then when/if it flees, you are left with a lot less than expected. So, in my mother's words.. Do you first. When you have you, when shit hits the fan, that work you've put into yourself can't be 'taken away' by circumstance. Yet! 

To relish a little bit on my mother's motto of "you are the only one to take care of yourself in the end" as much as that is true - I would like to add one thing to it. Yes, you need to "do you" because there is this resilience to life that one needs to get/can get from within. But once that is 'down' - that strength of "yourself" is grounded. The only way it can be even more attenuated is when it (you) can extend beyond yourself and that world of y ours. When you use what you know, what you understand and be - with those around you - god it's just ridiculously awesome. Use those resources, those friends, use the support  - provide the support. For yourself and for others. The motivation, the core, of course needs to come from within, yes. But with the surmount of doubt that exists in the world, you need sometimes all the help you can get to stay just above water. Do you but mix it up a bit and mix it in with a little love from others. 

On the Psychic.

So today I met up with a psychic in Santa Monica when walking with my mother. Santa Monica, in general, has been a place where my mom  and I would walk around whenever I am in town. It's sorta our thing, even when I was a fetus. She'd walk around here during her lunch breaks when she worked in LA, still in her belly when she was pregnant with me. These trips to SM is our time where we share our most intimate conversations, and other times we may not even say a word. Today was more of those quieter walks but never less important.

When I went to get my cup of coffee during/after our walk, I bumped into this psychic reader. She turned out to be phenomenal and not just for her skills in reading either. She was loud, hilarious, and dare I say from New York. Which is probably why we hit it off so well. I asked her how much it would cost and she said, a cup of coffee. So I went back to the coffee shop, got a cup, and sat down with her.

She asked my first name, my birth date and horoscope sign. And we took it from there. Instead of it feeling like my palm was being read, it felt more like talking to a great aunt. Who knew of me well and my family enough to generate some words of wisdom. But the thing is, she was a complete stranger. And she acted as if she knew my whole story and even stories of the people in my life, so well. I can argue that she knew of me because I am an open book. Goodness, let it be said, for those who may not know me, you can know me by just reading my face :) She mentioned it was my 'face value' that made me so trusting. The only thing is, is that it also leaves me prone to too much exposure. I told her I open myself in hope for the possibility of reciprocation from others. I enjoy the exchange. The swapping of spirits. She said its my "cheerful vulnerability" that makes me so delicious. But it can also burn if I am not careful with to whom I share my goods to.

She also said how freekin sensitive I am. She tried to sugar coat it since obviously, I am sensitive (wah wah) but she eventually blurted it out that it is the best and the worst of me. She said my sensitivity allows me to approach others with an honest sincerity, which in turn allows people to trust me with their stories and be more receptive. I joked with her that it was because I was 5'2 and looked harmless, so it made it easier for people to trust me. She said I inherited it from my father; I agreed.

As much as I love to soak up the thoughts and feelings and stories of others, I in turn love pouring out my thoughts and feeling and stories, too. So here I am, pooping out every single emotion to anyone and everyone around me. Whether I just met you or been with you forever, I will - with no regard -  let you know how I feel, think, do at any one moment. Even if I tell myself I won't. I will. This I can promise you. The problem is: here I am enthusiastically moving full-force with heart open, mind not filtered, going around feeling every feeling and then! I would express each single emotion without any constraint. I justify that I am only being honest with the moment, but she said, 'Honey, you have emotions stalked up in you that can last for decades, for at least 10 people. Filter that shit out now." Don't act on impulse, use the intelligent mind of yours, and stop it. Just stop.

She finished up by saying that I am where I am now because I did not take into account the effects of how I distributed these thoughts of mine, to others. It made others feel responsible for those feelings because they cared for me so much. But in the end, was it worth it? Feelings are fleeing. And for someone with as much faith as I do, I was running on what was given to me that I can touch and hear. What should of grounded me was my rationale, my work, my intuition.


I'm so over feelings now and just want to work. I actually miss studying physiology. She said it's great that I think that everyone anyone is deserving of Love (she hasn't even read my blogs, yet she knew) but that not everyone needs to know and be a part of my life. This whole experience wasn't that I got so much insight about my future, she didn't tell me much to be honest, she said it was too early and not yet ripe for her to tell me what's up. But she gave me more of an understanding that the past ain't gonna do anything for me, the future isn't quiet defined (thank God!), and so the only thing that matters now, is now. Do the work and then everything else will follow. Word up, Psychic lady. I will do the do.

On The Greatest Gift.

Today is Christmas! (FYI sorry for the mini-hiatus. Finals kicked in, then travel sans a computer. But luckily, my repertoire is full of drafts and thoughts that I have been keeping at stalk since early December. With time at hand, you bests be getting ready for a variety of mind dumps. And man, let me tell you, I have a lot to say.) Started it off well with church with two women, I love so dearly. My mother and ninang, godmother for all those that may not be Filipino. My godmother recently has been diagnosed with multiple cancers and is as far as I know doing well now. My mother, also striving, works  hard to maintain a life by herself here at home as a retired woman. I know she doesn't it mention it often but it must be hard to have a home with that amount of quiet time when living with oneself. I sometimes feel that I get a glimpse of it when I enter my studio but that's after a full day of interaction on campus, walking around in a city, and completing a robust agenda. It's not that a pity her but I can only imagine how it may not always be a comfortable feeling. Now, how is this all related to Christmas? Well, the priest asked what we would want from our 'Santa' today. With the wheels turning in my families head, I can imagine my ninang asking for better health. My mother, for financial stability. And myself, hoping for a sense of certainty about my future. Are we asking too much? Are we deserving of what we want? What limits us from getting what we need?

The priest shared with us a story about a time when he was a child and visited Santa. Santa always asks the two questions, "have you been a good boy/girl?" and "what do you want for Christmas?" He answered Santa saying the thought he did pretty well as far as his behavior, but did not feel like he deserved the gift he really wanted (a yellow Tonka truck). So, he'll settle for whatever Santa decides to bring. But the whole homily ended up being about how, yes we know that Santa has pretty pimply powers. He can fly around the world with his reindeer in one night, delivering gifts to children around the world, eating every cookie/milk combination he sees, successfully. But there is a much more amazing Santa version that lives in our adult lives now, not contained to a particular holiday or season. Without stating the blatant reference, my point is this. We believe in many, many things as people. Our interpretations of the Higher Power, God, Jesus Christ, Buddha, Allah and for those I have not mentioned, all exist on a very vast spectrum. Sometimes not even comparable. But the underpinning grounds of all faiths, at least from what I understand, is about Love. And if that is the case, if we are beings empowered by this sentiment, we are instilled with this indestructible force of compassion and forgiveness, that is not limited to any one person, at any one time, at any one place in this world.

Now, I know I speak about Love to ad nauseum, but it is because it is that important. And wonderful, and great. And the best part is that it is not limited to any particular faith, culture, people, religion, community, or country. Love's a hoe. It does everyone. Also, when I do speak of love, I do not only mean of that that exists in an intimate relationship. The love I speak of permeates from the deepest bonds within a family and close friends to acquaintances we meet in our days that we express kindness to and they to us.

I recently visited a number of friends mine back in San Diego and it just amazes me how much love can exist in a circle of friends, even after so many years have passed and the physical distance just seems to increase  between us. Yet when I am with them, it is as if time has not passed, we pick up from where we left off, and laugh the same way as before. These people hold a part of my life, my heart with them and theirs with mine wherever I go. They are more than just a passing friendship but a part of me that lives with me in whatever coast I call home. I am who I am because of this exchange of love that I have become blessed to be a part of. No one compares to these girls, and although I will meet a number of other people in my life and join various groups of friends, I want them to know that their love sustains me.

We (the collective 'we') can show each other such an overwhelmingly amount of love and compassion, patience and forgiveness. Even when we don't deserve it, after we may hurt one another with our words, actions, or lack of interest. You really can not underestimate what people can offer to one another in the name of Love. It really is the greatest gift we can receive and offer to one another, which exists in a form that is much larger than any pretty ass bow can tie in. Merry Christmas everyone and Happy Holidays.

On Yesterday.

So I was a mess yesterday. Crying, sobbing mess. And when I thought it was one thing, I realized that it wasn't the obvious. It began last week, on December 1st Worlds AIDS Day. My dad passed away from this many years ago and is the reason why I am as involved in volunteering with it today. I mentioned this in a much earlier entry but nonetheless, the calling to exhume this message comes again since yesterday.

Our clinical lecture at Biochemistry was on a patient that was recently diagnosed with AIDS (the more severe extreme of HIV, which he had after a sexual interaction(s) in college) due to an opportunistic infection. The same one my father had passed away. Which I thought I was over with grieving after taking an "AIDS Science & Society" course in my undergrad. That course drained me. Outside of learning the biological mechanisms of the virus, the history of the pharmaceutical interventions for this disease, and the story of how AIDS came about - we also watched documentaries. Many, many documentaries that I found myself in tears after each one of them. Some were educational based like the National Geographic with factual information of those affected in Africa, while other documentaries were filming the relationship between a gay couple in San Francisco. With the latter one the most difficult to watch.

I wonder every day had I had the opportunity to have a conversation with my father again. I would do so much to have that moment, to hold his hand and tell him how much I am intrigued, inspired by his legacy. I want to be simply in his presence to have that dialogue with him that would fill me in so many ways. His relationship is the one I want the most. And I don't even know why. He was a stranger. I have no interpretation of who he is as an adult. My only few memories of him were as a child, sitting on his lap and playing with whatever "toys" were at his home. Which was not much since he was a professor. Books. He had many, many books. And art that he made himself. And cool clothes. That man had so much swag.

My god, knowing how he died really killed me. Just because, I wasn't there to experience it with him. Maybe it was for the best but I don't know how much I can agree with that even as the adult version of myself. I want to pretend it wasn't a big deal, that it was just something of part of my story. But its not the "story" itself that huts but the real loss is the obvious, he is not here. The real loss is not the how, the when, nor the why. God, how I wish so much that he was. I want to know what he would think of me, what he thinks of the people I love, my pursuit in Medicine, my ability to carry a conversation. I want him to like me and the woman I am becoming. I think of him every day and hope he has and is doing the same.

So, here is a letter he wrote me for my pre-school graduation to congratulate me for my 'success'. I hang this letter over my desk to remind me of the work I have ahead of me. And God only knows the amount of work that is ahead of me. I embrace it now, though, much more willingly than I had ever before. I think, ironically enough, it is through my father that I know I can do this. He was able to do so much in his life and I think it is because, he wasn't limited to any specific notion of how his life was "supposed" to be. I would want to believe had I had this conversation with him, he would sat to me something like this:

You are good. You will be fine. Not because of the blood that runs through you or the legacy that I and our family has left behind but because you are conscious of what you dream to be and who you want to be in this world. You do not have to worry about the extraneous interactions that may bring you down. Do not feel obligated to entertain those that care less about you or do not see you as who you are. You are capable and strong. For yourself. Never think less than that because you are of my own ... I love you. 

I really wish there was a way that I could bring him to me. To have this sort of conversation or any conversation. I realize that this may more or less look like this self-pep talk thingy but it is not. This actually means a lot to me and I hope that sharing this with you today, about the yesterday, provide insight of my roots and story that I emerge from. I miss him and pray for him and for those in the past, present, and future that are affected by AIDS. Like any unfortunate disease, fatality steals those that we love prematurely from our present lives. I just hope that one day, one day, I can provide people more time, more leeway - despite some fatal disease like cancer, Alzheimer's, AIDS -  to spend with their families. So that, they can have that one more conversation with those that they love.