A Scorpion, a Bull, and a Crab.

Three signs. Different seasons of life. Always side by side.

Growing up, we didn’t always get along. When I was a teenager, my sister and I fought like it was a full-time job. Years later, when our youngest hit that same age, the cycle repeated itself. Arguments. Cold wars. Silent treatments. It felt like we were always on opposite sides.

But somewhere along the way, the fights turned into conversations. The walls turned into bridges. And before we even realized it, we had built a friendship more than anything I could have imagined.

Today, we move like a team. Different but in rhythm. People sometimes mistake us for triplets, even with the years between us. And honestly, I love that. I love how we help each other carry the weight when life feels heavy—whether it’s health, heartbreak, friendships, careers, or just the thousand little worries that pile up over time.

We know each other’s friends, and somewhere along the way, they became ours too—an extended circle of support and shared memories. We listen to each other’s rants without judgment (even if we sometimes roll our eyes and get an earful). We celebrate each other’s wins, big or small. We show up, even when it’s inconvenient. We know when to comfort, when to push, and when to simply sit with each other in silence.

And above all, we get to serve God together—three flawed women trying, failing, getting back up, and pushing each other to keep going, even when it’s hard.

Three signs. Different journeys.

But always sisters. Always one family.

Love you!

This woman is a dragon.

She is smart. She is independent. She is strong.

She didn’t have much support growing up. No one taught her how to be a "proper lady." All she knew was that she had to take care of herself.

She didn’t have a 4-year degree or that many privileges. As a kid, she had to go to the market, pick up leftover vegetables, clean and repackage them, then sell them. She found several other jobs, even as a bus conductor, just to provide for her needs and to give what she could to her own mother. That was until she landed a job at a Chinese-owned company that took a chance on her talent and skills until she rose through the ranks—all because she was born in the Year of the Dragon.

She doesn’t have many friends and was even betrayed by the one she thought was her best friend. It took her a while to open up again—and though she kept denying having a new “best friend” in her older years, she cried when her closest ones passed before her.

She's someone who fights for those whom she considers her own, but also knows when to let go and never look back when it's time to move on.

She once said she wouldn’t get married but eventually did, at 30. She had children later than most did at that time. She raised them the best she could until she had to make the choice between her career and her three daughters. She had her children 6 and 7 years apart—a tough range, since she had to work longer to make sure each one was provided for until they graduated college and was able to build a life of their own.

She spent half of her married life living like a single mom, with her husband working abroad—during a time when that country faced recession and financial troubles. So she took the reins again, went back to work, and kept going until she retired, knowing she had fulfilled her responsibility as a mother.

Being the tough cookie that she is, she’s not one to say “I love you” first, nor the first one to hug. But she still wakes up early to cook for us—even now that we’re all grown up. She supports us when we need her, even if we don’t talk much about our problems. If there’s something we don’t want to join or attend, she still says, “Use me as your excuse,” with no remorse,

She never forced me to study something I didn’t want to study, or to work where I didn’t want to work. She never asked me to provide for her—and even now, she still shares what she has with me. Most of all, she lets me follow my own path. She never pressured me to get married—once even saying she’d be okay if I just wanted to have kids of my own (I was joking, but she said it in a heartbeat, without any judgment).

Even after I moved out, she’s still there—when I call her, when I crave my favorite food that only she can cook, whe ... Read more »

Esther’s story has always been one of my favorite stories in the Bible. From an ordinary Jewish orphan to a queen who stood fearlessly to fulfill God’s purpose, her journey is a testament to faith and courage. Her words, “If I perish, I perish” (Esther 4:16), have been a continuous challenge for me as I walk through life, faced with temptations and difficult decisions — striving to stay strong in faith and unwavering in purpose.

Esther's journey began during a time of great political instability and danger. As a young Jewish girl, part of a minority exiled from their homeland, Esther’s life seemed destined for obscurity. Raised by her cousin Mordecai after losing her parents, her life took an unexpected turn when she was chosen to be the queen of Persia, married to King Ahasuerus (Xerxes I). Though her rise to royalty may have seemed like a twist of fate, it was far from coincidental.

From her quiet life with Mordecai to the pressures of palace life, Esther’s journey was far from smooth. Esther 2:14 tells us that once a woman was selected as a candidate to replace Queen Vashti, she had to remain in the palace for twelve months, uncertain of her fate: “In the evening she would go in, and in the morning, she would return to the second harem, to the custody of Shaashgaz, the king’s eunuch who was in charge of the concubines. She would not again go in to the king unless the king delighted in her and she was summoned by name.” Esther’s future was entirely in the king’s hands. If he did not favor her, she would be relegated to the life of a concubine, confined to the palace and without the freedom to choose her own path.

Many in Esther’s position might have grown bitter, resentful, or miserable. But Esther remained gracious and grounded. Despite the uncertainty, she did not lose herself in the palace’s grandeur. With Mordecai continuing to watch over her from a distance (Esther 2:11), Esther learned to stand on her own while keeping her faith intact. Her strength was not in defiance but in quiet resilience, knowing that her life was in God’s hands.

In the royal palace, Esther’s Jewish heritage remaine ... Read more »

First, let me just get it straight. I’m not depressed. I know what depression feels like since I’ve fought it for a long time. This is not depression talking, just some realities in my life.

I have been blessed with a family with a good reputation, a job in an esteemed organization, a house I can call my own— a comfortable life. You might think I should just be enjoying life, working hard and enjoying it even harder.

The thing is when I look at everything—all of it—it seems superficial. Meaningless. Great things with a rotten core. Good things vulnerable to rust and destruction.

The thing is, when people from the outside think you are strong, they don’t really think hard about how you feel or how you think, or what you are really experiencing beneath the surface. They don’t know that the main reason you left home were the unending, restless days spent fearing harassment from someone you lived with. They didn’t know that behind the glamorous job was your health slowly deteriorating. They didn’t know that behind the nice house were unending lists of loans and bills that needed to be paid. They didn’t know that behind this comfortable life were temptations you’ve been running away from and sins you were fighting hard not to commit.

Sadly, when people in your inner circle think you’re strong, they readily speak their minds without compunction of your current state of mind or emotion. When you speak out, they think you were being 'irritable' no matter how much you try to modulate it, but when you don’t speak out, they think it’s your fault for not voicing your thoughts.

This is such a beautiful world. God’s creations still leave me in awe every time I immerse myself on it. I still want to sing to Him, and serve Him through the gift of teaching He’s given me. But this world is also too much. Too much hurt. Too much anger. Too many temptations and sins. Too much chaos. These material things are not worth it. These joys are fleeting. At the end of the day, it’s all meaningless.

If God would be so gracious as to take me now, hopefully in a manner that doesn't cause 'inconvenience' to others, I would gladly accept it. This life, here on earth, is meaningless. It only pulls me away from Him. I would rather just end all here and join my Father in heaven, where there is only peace.
 

Ecclesiastes 1: 1-11 (NLT)

1 These are the words of the Teacher,[a] King David’s son, who ruled in Jerusalem.

2 “Everything is meaningless,” says the Teacher, “completely meaningless!”

3 What do people get for all their hard work under the sun? 4 Generations come and generations go, but the earth never changes. 5 The sun rises and the sun sets, then hurries around to rise again. 6 The wind blows south, and then turns ... Read more »

I've been contemplating an issue that has been bothering me for quite some time now: 

What are the deciding factors of those in authority that led them to relocate the loading and unloading station at MRT GMA-Kamuning (originally in front of MLQU)?

As someone who walks to and from work daily, (covering approximately 2 kilometers in total) as part of my health routine, I find myself both accepting of and mostly irritated by the change. It's just an additional 650 meters (approx.), but one must also consider the challenge of walking five flights of stairs (southbound) when the elevator is out of service or when the line is too long. This is not to mention the length people have to walk on other segments of their commute. 

This got me thinking about the plight of individuals with disabilities, pregnant women, and senior citizens who now must walk extra distances just to access the MRT (specifically at GMA-Kamuning, as I'm not certain about other stations). 

I'm well aware that my mother, with her knee issues, would face considerable difficulties. Moreover, having accompanied some pregnant women during their last trimesters, I understand the physical strain they endure, especially those with complicated pregnancies even at the early stages.

These thoughts were actually set in motion when my right leg had been acting up weeks ago. While it was injured in a childhood accident, it doesn't qualify me enough for a PWD ID due to the nature of the trauma. I can only imagine the challenges faced by individuals with more pronounced mobility limitations.

It strikes me as ironic that, at a time when the world is advocating for inclusion, we seem to be growing less sensitive to the needs of those in the minority who require our support to be included. Some might suggest, "Use an alternative mode of transportation," or the more common sarcastic remark, "Take a Taxi, Grab or Angkas (etc.) if you're so concerned." However, it's essential to recognize that not everyone can afford these options.

Perhaps it's also time for me to replenish my supply of Seretide and Salbutamol, just in case.

P.S.: The lawful options are limited to the NIA North road or Petron/Landbank East Avenue. 

Just now there were people trying to hail passing buses, illegally, at the old (more sensible) loading area and in front of MMDA enforcers. I cannot run to the bus anymore since I'm so tired from work and had a lot of baggage. The enforcer asked me, "San Mateo ka? Hindi ka nagsabi."

And ladies and gentlemen, it's my fault that I did not ride the bus at the former loading area that they closed for whatsoever reason. 

Thanks for encouraging me to not follow your unit's new mandate. I was raised better than that though, and I'm not in such a hurry to go home. Sorry sir.