There were those who immediately understood my decision while others took a bit of time. They would ask “Why” and I would say “Why not”. If I am able to, then there’s no reason for me not to.

Does that mean that I am not afraid. NO. I am scared. I can barely sleep and keep my thoughts together. But does that mean I am having second thoughts? NO.

The more I think about it, the more I realize what my WHY is.

It is simple. Because it is the right thing to do and it is the kind thing to do.

Wouldn’t you want the same thing too? Not just for yourself but for someone you love dearly.

To be completely honest, the hardest part for me is accepting the gratitude. I don’t think it’s right to say “don’t worry about it” or say “it’s no big deal” because the thing is, it is a big deal. But still, I am not an angel or a hero. I don’t think I am. I think being Kuya Pau’s kidney donor is a part of my life map. I am equally as grateful though. Not everyone gets a chance to be 39 years old and healthy enough to give a part of themselves to save someone else. Heck, not everyone gets to be 39 years old.

I am turning 40 in less than a month. I used to hate celebrating my birthday. But this year, I will celebrate. Also the next year, and the next… I will celebrate my life in honor of those who could not but should have.

Somehow, I feel this extra pressure that I need to be happy all the time. And I just can’t. It’s very difficult to keep myself in a state of happiness or gratitude.

I am not saying I stop being grateful. I still am. Just that the weight on my chest and the constant battle of the voices in my head makes me want to curl into a ball and sleep until the holidays end.

Right now, I am stopping myself from crying. There’s really no particular reason why I want to cry. I am worried. I am sad. I feel alone and at the same time I feel suffocated.

Next year, I want to go away during the holidays. Go to a different country. I think this is the best gift I can give myself.

You might have tried to end your life a couple of times–but I would like to assume that you are past that. And I am so fucking happy for you! You are here. You are present. Even when the weight on your shoulders and on your chest feels like a ton, you still manage to carry it all. You are strong. You’ve always been strong even when you thought you were not.

There are still times that you feel lost, and times when things just don’t make sense–when you have no clue why you feel the way you do. But guess what? That’s all fucking fine. You are fucking fine. Whatever hurdle you face, no matter high the wall, you will fucking climb it coz you are able.

Even when you feel that you are alone, you know that you are not. You are loved. You know this. You are fucking loved. And the best thing about this is you fucking love them all back. And that is awesome. That is beautiful.

So even when you feel like shit today, even when you feel like crying, celebrate still. Coz your life is worth celebrating.

Let’s just say that we ended up purchasing items that were not part of our list.

I used to think that since National Bookstore was and is my favorite shop in the entire mall, I was already “there” when it to came to adulting. On a side note, I absolutely love kitchen items.

I was wrong. Citi Hardware just proved that. I already have a mental list of things that I want to purchase. It’s still in my head because I’m afraid that I’ll give Lloyd a mental breakdown if he sees a physical list.

I am not sure if I am even in the right state of mind to write. Nanu died less than 24 hours ago. But because I have no one to talk to about this suffocating pain, I felt that I needed to write it down.

Nanu was–this past tense writing will be so hard to keep up. I keep wishing that when I wake up, it’s still Friday. And Nanu would be waiting by the door of our bedroom asking for food (2nd breakfast).

Nanu was rescued as a kitten by our Nana. Some kids were abusing her and broke her hips. When I saw her, I knew I had to take her with me. I thought I could give her a better life. But I guess I was wrong. Maybe, if I just left her with Nana, Nanu would still be alive today.

Although she couldn’t walk on all fours, she was active and feisty. Our couch in the living room is basically filled with holes because Nanu would use her claws to climb. And even though she had a scratching post, she loved scratching the couch. Every time we had guests, we would often say that Nanu is the reason we can’t have nice things. And it was okay. If it means getting her back, I wouldn’t mind even if she destroys the entire couch. I can always get a new couch… But I can never get Nanu back.

Maybe because of her disability, she didn’t get to grow big. She stayed between being a kitten and a full grown cat. She was perfect. She played rough. Would often bite my finger but never hard enough for my finger to bleed. And even if it did, it’s okay. I wouldn’t mind… Wounds heal… But somehow, I still cannot get my Nanu back.

I guess what hurts me the most is the fact that she died because our dog bit her. Another pet who I love. They were always separated. Coz the only cat that Zoie ever loved was Ado-and he’s also by the rainbow bridge. I know it’s not Zoie’s fault but it still hurts.

We were always careful. But somehow, Nanu managed to get out of the house and Zoie was also out.

How do I even describe how I felt when I got the call? We were driving towards the city when I got the call. Lloyd drove back home as fast as he could. I don’t remember much on our drive back home–just that I was telling Lloyd to drive faster maybe we can save Nanu.

I reached home and went looking for her… She looked so small… I carried her like a baby, close to my heart where she will always belong. I told her “Wake up Nanu, mama’s here. Wake up baby, mama’s here.” But she didn’t wake up. Even after giving her kisses and head scratchies, she didn’t wake up. So I just kept holding on to her coz I didn’t know what else to do.

I guess I finally got some senses back. So I cleaned her up. Wiped her body with water and sweet smelling soap. Bela got her flowers. So I put it on her belly and then wrapped her in a white towel.

I hope that her spirit saw and felt that I loved her. I still do. I hope she saw her papa digging up her entryway to the Rainbow Bridge–just beside Ado.

My dearest Nanu… I am sorry if I failed to protect you. I miss you so much. It’s 2am and you’re not here asking for food. When I wake up, you won’t be there. But if you can, come back to me, okay? Visit me in my dreams… I will give you all the food you want, my fingers to nibble on, my nose to boop. Just come back, okay? Your papa said, no more cats because of Zoie. Maybe he’s right. So, I will hold on to your memory and also Ado’s memory. Always in my heart. Always in my mind. Never too far away.

This made me laugh coz I do get cranky and I can’t get stuff done. When I was still a student, I could not study or concentrate if my room was a mess. If I was studying outside, everything needed to be in its place or I just get distracted.

The same is true when I am working–pen holder on the upper left corner of my table, notebook and a single pen on the right side of my laptop, calculator beside the pen holder, hand sanitizer and lotion within reach. Wow. Do I have OCD?

If things are not in order at home, I notice that I’m hot headed. It’s a good thing that arranging and cleaning makes it all go away. HAHA

Besides, cleaning can’t wait in my household–we have 5 dogs (4 pugs and 1 pitbull) and 1 very demanding cat.

I love my life.

Some humans (or maybe a lot) are brilliant. And some are brilliant assholes.

I’m thinking about the person who invented drugs and alcohol. Or maybe the person who invented styrofoam. Then there’s religion and agent orange. But I think I would settle with Zyklon B.

Why would I want to un-invent Zyklon B? Why, in the first place, was it invented? Let’s go back 100 (or so) years ago.

Zyklon B (or Cyclone B) originated as a pesticide (really). But why would I want this to be un-invented? Because, my dear readers, this is the same poison used by the Nazis in their gas chamber. And just to add something to the mix, the inventor behind this chemical is Fritz Haber–a Jewish Christian scientist (he converted to Christianity before WWI).

Fritz Haber was a brilliant scientist. He received a Nobel Prize in Chemistry. He is also considered as the father of chemical warfare. I’m not really a fan.

And if you’re wondering, no, he did not die via the gas chambers. He fled Germany before the Final Solution started–though it was already brewing.

Repercussions for the un-invention of the Zyklon B would probably be death by bullets or really more on the slave camps. This is depressing me.

Possible alternative–the f*ck! No alternative! No mass killings! No genocide! I hate wars. Truly. No one wins a war. EVERYONE LOSES. There are no victors. But we are too stupid to realize this.