Delectable Dee

To whom much is given, much is also expected.

Expectations. This has been the cause of my many anguish since I was a kid. Some of the expectations from decades ago still haunts me. I guess, in some ways, it is flattering to know that people look up to me and expect me to do great things, both in having a career and in my personal life.

These days, I am struggling with my personal demons, the burden of living up to the expectation that I am the "mature" kid in my family.

Sometimes, I want to be the immature one. I want to be selfish and sulk and throw tantrums. I want to be a brat and pout. I want to be careless and inconsiderate. I want to play and be pampered. I want to be doted and have my elder siblings do things for me. All the things I never had. All the the things I had to give up and grow beyond their maturity level because I am expected to. And I am tired.

I remember when I was 6. My brother spent all of his allowance on computer games and took my money and my sandwich for himself. I starved that day and had to stand in a jeep all the way home because I had no money left. When we got home, I cried and told my mom on him, thinking that they'd reprimand him but was surprised to be the one who got the reprimanding. Until now, I still couldn't understand why. The bullying of my allowance lasted all through out my elementary years. I got called names, too. The ugly fat pig.

When I was in fifth grade, I had to accompany my bother to La Salle and enroll him in college. I thought it was a normal practice, then. No wonder everybody was staring at me.

When I was in high school, there was a time I loved wearing these really baggy shirts that I'd buy from Vintage stores and my brother would always take them and wear them. He'd return them with ink stains or torn hems/sleeves and when I'd get mad, I'd get reprimanded. Why? Because he's the eldest child and he deserves all "respect" - NO MATTER WHAT. That I am the lowly youngest and that I should understand and have patience with him. It wasn't until college that I learned how twisted my family "rules" were.

Another high school scene. I saved my allowance for months so I could buy my very own [cheap] radio and listen to music that I like. One day, my sister and I were listening to my radio when my brother barged into the room and announced he wants to take the radio. I said no but he persisted. He snatched the radio and took out the tape we were listening to and threw it away. I called him jerk and he threw the radio at me and it fell on the floor after it hit me and shattered to pieces. I got reprimanded  for hours for "fighting against my brother" and spent four hours kneeling on mung beans.

Yet another high school scene. My sister, her bf and I went to the mall. They decided to ditch me in the arcade while they go and watch a movie. I waited there for 4 hours and never saw then again. I didn't have any money so I walked all the way to my mom's office for 30 minutes and asked the guard to lend me money. It was dark by the time I got home and I can see my parents were fuming already even from afar off. Turned out my sister forgot about me and left me there at the mall. To say that I got a reprimand would be an understatement. According to them, I should take better care of my OLDER sister and not be careless. I didn't understand it until now. Needless to say, another four hours kneeling on mung beans.

The list is endless but these particular memories are the ones that's etched and is burning in my mind. And I cannot help but feel bad. And now that we're all older and supposed to have matured and grown, it's still the same story. I get blamed for their faults and for the chores they didn't do.

A huge fight broke out last Monday because my brother didn't make his bed. It  was supposed to be my job to make sure he does. SERIOUSLY. I finally asked why. Why? Why? Why for all those times I've been robbed of my childhood innocence. Why? And the answer that blew me away was, "Because you are the only mature and trust worthy of them all."


Seriously, I still don't get it. But when I can help it, I'd rather not think of these things. They make me bitter. Times like these I wish I'm jaded.


These things I do not fully grasp.
These trivial madness
of desperation and fleeting comfort,
where bane urgency
drives the need for brazenness
because warmth is no longer felt.
contentment has gone the way of the ashes.

Do you feel my pain?

Where I demand for romance,
I burn every breath
then cower in the shadows
bruised and ashamed,
not knowing what I am
or what I have become.

In the darkness where I bury my tears,
and in echoing sobs
where my cries are drowned,
suffocated by my fears;
terrified that if I dare face the light
my unhappiness will swallow me,
shackling me to the chains of my griefs.

How can you touch me
and not feel me?
How can you love me
and be blind to know
the anguish that eats my soul?

I try to have faith
but even the sweetest melody
falters to soothe the cracks.
And doubt strips me naked,
weak and void,
severely lacking of anything
worth hoping.
And the nights are cold and mean,
the dawn bleak and ashen
and once again
I am haunted.

Last night,
you broke my heart.


I miss having someone to really talk to. I have some serious things I need to unload and I recently just lost you for good. Have you noticed how off we have been since then? The half-hearted laughs and the forced mesh is flaky and pathetic.

Once, there's always been an us. That natural flow of oneness was great while it lasted. I'd be a hypocrite if I'll say I truly want you to be happy. At least, not with her.

You know what? I just realized I hate winter. Guess I'm fucked then, aren't I.

Too bad we can't talk anymore because you're too busy screwing her. I hope, at least for an ounce of your self respect that her breasts glow. Otherwise, you're just another bastard. Nothing special...just a fool who blossomed to douchiness late.


I don't want to see you. The fact that you are insensitive just clashes with my hyper sensitivity. I still sometimes get the blues trying to understand how we could be so different from each other when there is the unspoken language that only both of us understand to bind us. I still don't get it. And on some honest jaded days, I get to contemplate that maybe I won't ever will. Just as you won't ever understand why nothing is ever good enough for you.

What am I to you?

I simply refuse to believe that one would just forget about the existence of something supposedly important in one's life and then after a gulf of oblivion, one suddenly remembers. What do you want from me, this time? I cannot bleed for your wounds and be discarded like trash the moment you feel better. Time and time again. I'm sorry but unlike you, I have trouble getting over something I've invested my heart into.

So. no. Don't come. I don't want to see you. Live your life now like I am living mine. I am happy for you and I truly hope you will find contentment this time. Don't go running after the wind hoping to come to a full stop.

I hate you for making me wish that it was I who made the difference.


if you walk away
then I'll walk away too
i wont remain
if you should ever decide
to part
I will not settle
I will not doubt
walk away and then you'll see

and i shall remember nothing
throw away
and I will not deter
and I shall burn
ever ounce of fiber
every string of anything
nothing remains
all is absolute

do not
for a moment
think that you own me
for although thoughts of you
are etched in my mind
your name branded on my skin
i can just as easily shake you off

I will scrape my body if i have to
i will have my wings clipped
i will grow them back
and surely
i can grow myself new skin

so don't you dare
think you can ignore me
that i am at your disposal
for you are a typical fool
and a blissful ignorant
at that

you don't threaten me
for I have already
died a dreamer's death
and for whatever that still binds us now
it can be easily broken

          and remorse?

                    it died along with me
                       when i first bled
                              for you


*picture NOT mine.


So great is the sin of man.
Oh, so great.

I cannot even begin to understand the cruelty of man or from whence they come from. For a specie said to have soul, we sure have an abominable manner of showing it. If not for the Word of God, the Bible, I would dare think that we, as a specie is below the importance of the organisms that eats up the feces of animals.

Personally, of all God's creations, I think us, humans, are the nastiest, loathsome, repulsive, evil creatures that least deserves love. I mean, look at us! We're blatantly destroying the only planet we've got! The animals we call beasts all act upon instincts. Us humans, the so-called chart-topper in the taxonomy of life, the only specie said to have a highly developed brain, soul, reason, language, inquiry, wonder, longing, religion, morality, aesthetics, creativity, imagination, dreams and humor, claim to be much better than them. After all, we developed technology. But look at what we are doing! We act as if we are no more better than these "beasts" we claim to tame.

The nasty TRUTH.

The link leads to a video that is so revolting and heart breaking. I had to watch it though to be fully aware and to wake up to the alarming and utterly appalling seriousness of this crime so deceitfully cloaked by glamor and fame. If every drop of tear I've shed when I saw the video will cause a person who commits this act of barbarianism to drop dead, then I'd gladly cry a river.

Designers should STOP making clothes out of fur. People should boycott designers and labels who produce clothing made from real animal fur. I cannot understand how people could condone this nor could they look up and idolize people who encourage this crime. This is a battle everyone should take a part of.

Do you have a pet? How would you like for someone to skin your pet alive and wear him/her as a coat or a hat? Would you wear your pet? I don't think so.

May this post cause people to be aware of how twisted and repugnant the world has become to have people jovially praise and idolize people (with the likes of JLo/PDiddy/Beyonce/JayZ/Simmons - YES! I named names!) who condone and pedal this horrific "trade". Fur is MURDER. Wake up.

May God forgive us.
We don't deserve God's mercy.
Praise God for grace.



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Nothing prepares us from death. When it strikes, all we could do is crumble and ask why. Too many questions left unanswered, too many regrets we wish we could justify. So many words we wish we said and all the same, we wish we hadn't spoken.

Have we all said we love you enough?

Your kindness, they will forever remain with you and the memory you've carved. The legacy of love will never be forgotten nor will your blessed heart be left to oblivion.

Already, the world is much bleaker.

It is a blessed assurance that someday, we will see each other again in the presence and the glory of our God but until we meet again, you shall be greatly missed!

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.
Psalms 116:15