Healing your inner child can be expensive, both financially and emotionally, but the joy that comes with it is priceless.
That moment when you finally buy clothes that truly express who you are, collect items you've long admired, or visit places you once dreamed of—it's not just about the purchase or the trip.
It's an act of self-love, a way of giving to yourself what you once thought was out of reach.
That's why you should try to gradually reach for your dreams and heal our inner child.

I have had it all covered
Once or twice will do
But I did nothing wrong,
Why mention my name all of the sudden?
I kept my mouth shut
for the longest time
for a hundred or thousands of times
to keep my peace
and gave you peace and respect in return
what do you fvcking need?
an attention or details to ease your mind from overthinking
out of context, from your whimsical story maker of a child?
you are a ******* open book
your personality never fitted from your face
a disgusting *****
corrupting your generation's mind
you are a mundane *******
scandalous, pathetic *****
it was a female dog, not meant to turn into a behavior
you are such an escandalosa
Maria Makiling by face, loudmouth by personality
her name is Maria Ligaya, married a cano
but she changed and became a mata pobre

Mark 10:9, which states: "Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate."

No one will be allowed to destroy what God has brought together.
The union forged by divine hands stands unshaken beneath the weight of time and trial.
Bound not merely by fleeting emotion but by a sacred covenant, it weaves through the fabric of destiny, unyielding to discord and untouched by mortal interference.

What is born of grace remains steadfast, weathering tempests, defying doubt, and rising anew with each dawn.
Though shadows may loom and voices may challenge, the promise endures—an echo of eternity, a vow sealed not by man’s decree but by the whisper of the divine.

No force, no circumstance, no frailty of the world can sever what was breathed into being by love itself.
What God has joined together is not a mere arrangement, but a bond written in the stars—a testament to resilience, to faith, to the unbreakable nature of a union rooted in something far greater than human hands could mold.

My personality is like a deck of cards—each one revealing a different facet of who I am.
The good cards are my victories in life, the ones that draw people to me despite my innocence and naivety.
They are the moments that allow me to forge connections, to befriend others, to navigate the world with hope.

But behind those cards lie the bad ones—the losses in the game, yet paradoxically, the wins in life.
They unveil the raw truths of existence, exposing the genuine intentions of the world and the shadows within my own nature. Perhaps many have never truly known me.
People recognize only the parts I choose to reveal, the carefully presented pieces of my story.
Yet they remain unaware of the silent battles, the unseen struggles I have endured.

How can someone claim to truly know me when all they have seen are the reels, the highlights, the fleeting clips of my life—but never the raw, unfiltered behind-the-scenes?

They witness the carefully curated moments, the victories, the laughter, the beautifully framed snapshots that fit within their expectations. But they don’t see the retakes, the silent battles fought off-camera, the exhaustion, the parts of my story too complex or too painful to compress into a mere clip.

To know me is not just to watch the performance, but to understand the struggles that shaped it.
It is to acknowledge the moments I didn't share—the doubts, the resilience, the quiet growth beyond the spotlight.

True understanding lies not in what is shown, but in what is felt beyond the frame.
What you see of me through social media is not real—the curated moments, the framed exposures, the glimpses tailored for the world to perceive.
The truth lies beyond the filters, beyond the carefully composed narrative.
So let me reshuffle my life however I choose.
Stop assuming you know everything about it when you don’t.
Stop implying that things will unfold a certain way, because they won’t—not like that, not how you expect.

My path is mine alone, shaped by choices only I understand.
The future is not predetermined, and what is “supposed to happen” will never be dictated by anyone but me.
So just let me be—let me exist as I am. I don’t need anyone to shape me, to define me, or to tell me how to move through life. I can get by on my own.

I know my path, my resilience, my own way forward. And that’s enough.

Toodles.

A certain someone said—

"You’re ugly, Unpleasant."

Out of rage, maybe. Out of anger, perhaps.

"I will make your life a living hell." And you swore I was lying.

He told me I was like the devil. I smiled and whispered— "Oh? Only now do you take notice, when I have long been the storm’s whisper— a fire untamed, a shadow unfazed, a reckoning etched in time."

You said I had feelings for you.

Really?

"You’re lucky you know— because I never once realized there was anything to know."

He said he hates me.

Oh?

I was not born to be pleasing, nor crafted for admiration. I was not shaped by fragile hands, nor built to bend beneath expectation.

Let him seethe, let him scorn— what of it? The sun does not dim for those who curse its light.

I exist not to be liked, but to be unwavering.

He said I was crazy. Oh, really?
That’s nothing new—why did it take you this long to realize? What a shame.

Manipulate me all you can
I can gaslight you in return.

To my old little me,

When life weighs you down, stand firm—lift yourself up, plant both feet on the ground, and stay grounded.

We did not defeat them, and we will not reconcile with them.

To those who have hurt you, try to understand them. Maybe they're simply carrying too much, and their frustrations spilled onto you. Or maybe, they were never truly loved by their mother.

Enjoy your life there, old little me, for here, life presses down on me too much. I used to cry out loud, but now, when I am in pain, I weep in silence.

That’s when I realized— how painful it is to release all your sorrows in secret, covering your mouth so no one can hear you.

You end up crying everything out, because you are used to not being heard. And when you do speak up, it is always one-sided— they say you are just complaining. You keep thinking about how exhausted you are, but they compare their exhaustion to yours. And then they tell you that you have never truly suffered, so the moment you struggle even a little, they see you as weak—quick to surrender.

Sometimes, it feels disheartening to live in a world where pain seems endless. God has witnessed everything— the struggles, the weight of it all. The pressure I feel while searching for a job has made me realize how tough it truly is. It is no joke— at times, it is deeply frustrating.

So, old little me, wipe your tears. If you stumble on your journey, rise again—every time. Carry with you the proverb "Nanakorobi yaoki— "Fall down seven times, stand up eight."