A long, long time ago…

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“… I can still remember, how that music used to make me smile…“

32 years ago today, I moved to Canada to be with my mom.
I left the Philippines thinking I had a plan.
I didn’t. There was no plan.
I just knew I was going somewhere new, and that felt good enough at the time.

Somewhere along the way, I reached the point where I’ve now lived longer in North America than I ever did back home.

I’m not sure when that happened.
One day I was new, and the next thing I knew
I was explaining how to make rice to people like I invented it.

I spent seventeen of those years in Florida too, so I’ve experienced both versions of North America.
I’ve gone from sweating in the heat to stepping outside in winter
and immediately questioning my life choices.

This day also reminds me how many times I’ve started over.
Philippines, Canada, the U.S., then back to Canada again.
Different places. Different versions of life.
Every move felt like hitting a reset button.

Well, you know what? Maybe it’s time to do that again.
Not to press reset or reinvent, but just to get to know myself again.
The music I used to listen to. The music I used to play.
The way I used to think before life got loud.
Before it hurt.
Like I went to a Rock concert
and ended up in front of the guitar player’s Marshall stack speakers.

I still think about the old days a lot.
Me and my friends, hanging out for hours doing nothing, laughing at the dumbest things.
Somehow those were the best days.

And my dad.
I remember random moments like they just happened.
Things that didn’t feel important back then mean everything now.
You really don’t know when it will be the last time you see someone.

I didn’t know that day was the last time I would see him.
If I had known, I probably would have stayed a little longer.
Just to talk more. Be with him more.

Also, check out these photos.

That’s my mom at the Ottawa airport, waiting for me.
The other is when I arrived, hugging each other tight like no time had passed.

My parents are both gone now, and memories hit very differently these days.
They mean so much more than they used to.

Looking back, not all my decisions were good. Some worked out. Some I regret.
I’ve even thought about reaching out to people I have wronged.
Just to try and make things right.

But I also know not everyone thinks like that.
Some people who have wronged me would never do the same.
I guess that’s part of life.
Knowing what you can fix and what you just have to leave alone.

Well, here I stand (or sit).
Life keeps moving.
You make your choices and deal with where they take you.
Somehow, all of mine led me here.

And after all these years, I still don’t fully know what I am.
Filipino? Canadian? Musician?
Something in between?

It depends on who I’m talking to, I guess.
Maybe that’s the point.
I don’t know.
This post probably stopped making sense somewhere.

I guess what I’m trying to say is this:
I miss where I came from.
I am grateful for where I am.
I am still figuring things out after all these years,
just with more memories,
a dad bod,
and way less hair.

“..but something touched me deep inside,
the day the music died.”

Well, I suppose the music isn’t gone. It just sounds different now.

Easter 2026

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I think I’m a hypocrite.

I’ve been angry at God for a while now.
I don’t even know how long.
It just became normal at some point.

I don’t pray anymore.
At least not in any real way.
Most days it feels like no one’s there anyway.

But then I still go back and listen to these worship songs.
The same ones I used to play.

I don’t skip them.
I don’t turn them off.
Sometimes I just sit there and let them play all the way through.

I don’t know what that says about me.

I’ve thought about picking up the guitar and start playing again.
Church music was a big part of my upbringing.
It shaped how I hear things, how I play, how I feel at all.
So maybe this is just instinct.
Maybe something in me is reaching for what used to make sense.

And now I’m here, not even sure what I believe anymore,
but still circling back to it.

It doesn’t make sense.

I don’t remember exactly when I started feeling this way about God.
But I do remember what it felt like.

It felt like being forgotten.
Ignored.
Unheard.

And if I’m being honest, that feeling isn’t new.
That feeling didn’t start with God.

I’ve felt that with people too.
Especially people I cared about.

You reach out.
You wait.
You try again.
And after a while you just stop expecting anything back.

I think that did something to me.

So now when it comes to God, it feels the same.
It feels like my text message was just left on “read.”

And maybe that’s not fair for me to say.
I don’t even know anymore.

All I know is I’m still here.

Still listening to these songs.
Still thinking about playing again.
Still not fully gone, even if I act like I am.

That has to mean something, right?
Or maybe I just haven’t let go yet.

I’m not trying to make this sound nice.
This is just where I’m at right now.

Anyway, this is a song we used to sing back in high school.
It stuck with me for some reason.

I recorded it back in 2008.
This is the first time I turned it into a video.

I almost didn’t post it.
But here it is.

Happy Easter.

Today, I Chose Me.

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I made some big changes in my life today.

This is the first time I chose Mental Health for myself.

More details to come, but for now,

let me just put down my work laptop bag,
take off my work shoes,
put on my pyjamas,
wait for the wife to come home,
and feel the lightness on my shoulders.

It may take a few days or weeks to fully feel the fresh air.
But at least at this moment,
I know full well that

I chose me.

I am on it!

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I know, I know.
I said I would update this site more often.

I’m on it. I didn’t lie.

But can you blame me?
There’s just so much stuff going on right now.

So many shows to watch.
So many books to read.
Food to eat.
People to annoy. (mostly my wife)
Gossip to know and spread.
Social Media to doom scroll.
Worries to worry.
Angers to anger.
Life to survive.

Plus, creating content is not easy.
It takes time and money.

I can’t keep travelling to show you where I am.
I can’t keep eating out to show what I ate?
Unless you want me to show you how many pizzas we order in a week.
The answer is 5.
Yes! 5 pizza boxes.
They have been my faithful companions this whole time.

Content creation is hard.
And it’s even harder now that everyone can do it.
Even my neighbour’s 11-year-old kid can post better stuff than me.
I wouldn’t be surprised if that little shit goes viral and earns millions.

Anyway.
I suppose I’ll try harder.
Even though no one reads this.
Come to think of it, since no one does,
it’s the perfect way for me to be as blunt and honest as I can.

Good thing these pizza boxes don’t judge.
Pizza is my friend.

Still Alive. Still Rambling.

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I figured I should follow up on my last post from December of last year.
Has it really been that long?

I was sick when I wrote it, and then I kind of disappeared for a while.
If anyone stumbled across this site after that, they probably thought I died.

Or worse, expelled.

I didn’t.
I’ve just been quiet.

Anyway, I always meant to come back here and start writing again.
Mainly because I’ve had this blog since before 2001 and I am still paying a web host for it.

It started as a place for my music, late-night thoughts, and whatever random stuff I felt like sharing.
Then social media came along and changed everything.
Suddenly it was easy to send a quick post, get a few likes, interact a little, and move on.
Not for blogs though.

And, honestly. Who even reads blogs anymore?
No one has more than a TikTok video’s worth of attention these days.

Still, it’s not the same. Social media is great for a laugh or a quick update, but sometimes I want to say more. Especially when I’m passionate about what I’m sharing.

If you’ve been following me for a while, you know what I mean.
I’ve posted lots about music I love and play, shows I watch, sports I don’t play, everyday stuff, even the random products I use. I miss having a place to ramble a bit, reflect, or just type out whatever is on my mind.

Funny enough, like I said, this site started out as a home for my music. But I haven’t been making much of that lately. Not for any deep reason. Just life. The inspiration hasn’t really been there. I’ve been tired. Low on motivation. And most of the stuff I wanted to say didn’t feel like it was worth sharing.

It’s been a rough stretch, but I’ve also been travelling, and trying to live a little.
Then I realized, this blog is mostly for me.
A way to look back on things, learn from my mistakes, and hopefully, be better than what I was.

And that’s worth writing about too.

So here I am, easing back into the blog.
No big plans. No schedule. Just posting when I feel like it.
Some posts will be light and funny. Some might be deep.
Some might be old music I recorded back when I had a better hairline and less back pain.

If this is your first time here, welcome.
If you’ve been around, thanks for sticking with me.

The guitar strings are being replaced.
The voice and thoughts are warming up.
And the fingers are ready to type.

More soon.

Making it official

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You guys.

I’ve been sick for days now and you know the rule:
YOUR SICKNESS DOESN’T COUNT UNLESS YOU POST ABOUT IT ON SOCIAL MEDIA.

So here I am making it official.

Also, back in February of 1986, I was gravely ill and had to be rushed to the hospital.
There was no internet then so I’m telling you now too.

It’s been like this for years

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It’s 8am and I’m already pissed at everything around me.

This is how it’s been for years now and the universe or whomever created this shit hole needs to fucking leave me alone and give me a break.

In all my years, I’ve never been so angry at the world, the universe, life.

0 out of 5 stars.

Would not recommend.

Canada Thanksgiving 2024

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With Canada’s Thanksgiving coming to a close, I took a moment to reach out to the people I’m thankful for.

To be honest, that list has gotten a bit shorter over the years.

But this time, I made sure I am thankful for myself. For keeping my shit together.

To be honest, it’s getting harder and harder over the years as well.

Daily Prompt

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Tell us about a time when you felt out of place.

It’s funny how this prompt came up today.

First let me tell you a story.

According to my archives, on this day in 2003, I moved to Florida. It was a huge decision to uproot my family and start a new life in another country once again.

See, I grew up in the Philippines and I also left that country to come to Canada.

Now, both times I can still remember how alone and lonely I was for a number of years.

I didn’t know anyone. I had no friends. Starting your life over is not an easy task.

Going back to my first sentence in this post, the reason why I said that the Daily Prompt question was funny is because on this date, 4 years ago, I left the States and moved back to Canada again.

Once more, I left the life I have built, the friends I have gained and everything I have worked hard for.

Sure, I left to be with my wife, but it was a decision I was forced to do because the government whose leader wears a red baseball hat and can barely form a coherent, logical sentence drove me out of the country by using COVID as his agenda for immigration.

That’s another story that I will write down here for another time.

What I really wanted to say from all of this senseless ramblings is that, it has been 4 years that I have restarted my life back and still feel lost, alone and out of place.

Weird thing is, this time, it feels like it will never change.