Renewed with Championship Spirit (by the Holy Spirit)

Ouch.

My left foot is buried in a basin of ice tubes in hopes of a speedy healing and recovery. I wince as I feel every inch of my foot's skin go cold. I have no idea how I got this pain. I'd be spending long hours trying to think back and assess which part of last night's match caused this (hopefully very minor) injury. I didn't feel it until after I left the venue to grab dinner with my friends.

I guess my news flash today would be something like, "PWR Live: Championship Spirit - A Baptism of Fire." Last night, I partook in a 4-way all-women wrestling match for the Queen of Asia Championship against Gatoh Thailand's Jibzy, Queen of PH Wrestling Crystal, and the well-known big shot idol from Japan, reppin' different wrestling leagues including AEW - Riho. TODAY, I WOKE UP FEELING IT WAS ALL JUST A DREAM. It was surreal. Those 3 big names, shared a ring with me and I couldn't be any more blessed.

The fact of the matter is, I didn't believe I deserved to be in this big main event match up at PWR Live: Championship Spirit. When they'd broken the news to me a month ago, I felt excited - but it was overpowered by a cup of FEAR and WORRY, spilling over - swamping every ounce of hope and faith in myself. I was not confident. I didn't believe I deserved to be there. Because I didn't think I could keep up with those big stars. Because maybe, I simply couldn't. Because I didn't hold a candle to their talents. Because how could those big names share a spectacle with a no-name like me.

So I spent the past month second-guessing things, doubting myself, dreading the biggest day yet in my wrestling journey. It was literally a month of endless worrying sessions. I also felt lost trying to juggle all the responsibilities and priorities in life. But I also realized, I wasn't doing something I should be doing. I wasn't calling on Someone I should be calling on. GOD.

I guess author Michael Faudet's right when he once said, "Lost is a lovely place to find yourself."

Sunday morning, it was show day. I woke up real early and grabbed my Bible at 6:30 AM. I opened onto a page in the book of Deuteronomy, chapter 31 verse 6 - one of my life verses. "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the LORD your God goes with you - He will never leave you nor forsake you."

In a world like this, where life could be chaotic sometimes, as humans we tend to forget about what the Lord God teaches us. He has always told us to trust in the Lord and never lean on our own understanding. For His ways are always loving and righteous. Because we cannot do all things without Christ who strengthens us. It's not a walk in the park to be a disciple of Christ - I can relate to those who forget about the Lord in desperate times - but these times are specifically the ones wherein we need to depend on Him more. Because we need His wisdom, His guidance.

I put on my Hillsong playlist as I drove to pick up my best friend, Jeorge, missing my student life so much where we spent almost every day studying His word and singing songs of praise and worship. I sang along to the first part of At the Cross, and when chorus came my singing was stopped by the warm tears welling up in my eyes, running down my face. He was speaking to me at this moment and I questioned myself, why am I worrying? Why have I not been calling on You for weeks? 

Indeed an emotional morning to start a show day. But it felt home. Company even made more warm with my best friend soon driving me to Makati and to the show's venue (Power Mac Center Spotlight). For the first time in a long time I was able to get a sense of calm. Inner peace. After having the noisiest, most raucous drowning thoughts in my head for a month.

My very first show poster!

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Meeting Riho and Jibzy for the first time was unbelievable. But what worried me (again) was the language barrier. What if they didn't understand me? What if I mishear what they're saying? I was thinking about so many miscommunication problems already and it wasn't good. Few hours before the show Jibzy called me into the locker room to discuss the match. Crystal wasn't around yet so it was just me Jibzy and Riho.

Jibzy sat in front of her dresser and began. "So... your move? What?" She looked at me.

Smiling coyly, I tried to start talking before I completely got sucked within the beauty that was her long dark hair. "Oh, uhh. So some of my moves... I have uhh. I do spinebuster - " I paused and tried to check if I was maybe talking fast - "I do a reverse stunner," I continued and looked to Riho who had such glistening eyes that popped through her fresh, glowing skin. "And then, I have a finishing move called Mocking Jaye, which is just a bicycle kick." I got up from the floor to demonstrate with energy, vibrantly kicking the air. I didn't realize how funny I looked until I sat back down on the floor and looked to both our international guest wrestlers, who now had stoic faces looking at me.

Do they think I'm funny? I thought to myself. I almost confirmed the two foreign wrestlers thought I looked like an idiot when they didn't say anything after I talked for 30 seconds and threw my leg in the air. They looked at each other, all silent. I was clueless about what they had in mind. But more importantly, I felt a bit embarrassed.

I gave them an awkward smile. "Let me just get my water okay?" I excused myself to walk away for a while. While it was true that I wanted to get water, I really just wanted to escape the embarrassment I'd put myself into in front of the international stars. Maybe talking in straight English in full sentences wouldn't work, I made a mental note.

When I walked back to where they were sitting, very timely, Crystal walked in and I really really saw how excited Jibzy was when she called her. "Crystal! Come!" She raised her hand and waved like she was calling a friend she hadn't seen in a long time.

It literally was like two girls happy to finally see their mother to save them after being weirded out by some stranger who tried to offer them some candy but refused because she looked weird.

When Crystal finally joined the discussion, it was true. The 2 were comfortable in discussing with her. Crystal had this style of English-talking where she didn't use full sentences. She talked in broken English words...or English word by English word.

"So uhh, startuu?" Crystal ran a hand through her blue hair. "Testu strengtu?"

Riho nodded with enthusiasm, signaling how she liked Crystal's idea. Her eyes glistened even more, it was so adorable. But more importantly, I was amazed by Crystal's communication skills. At the beginning of the discussion it was silent. Everyone did their thinking hums. "Hmmmmmm..." Crystal started, putting her hands on hair waist and trying to think. "Hmmmm..." I followed, tapping my chin with a finger and Riho followed with her own "hmmmmm", smiling tight-lipped at me and widening her sparkly eyes, bobbing her head to fix her gaze on me.

This little big star is really talking playfully to me? This woman would stomp her feet and bore holes into my stomach later on in the main event and she was making playful gazes towards me now. I was about to die of cuteness overload and disbelief-due-to-surrealness-of-the-situation.

The discussion was then taken to the ring, and it went on with Crystal continuously talking like, "Riho-san, idea, maybe, I hit - "Pom!" then I whip and I hit "pom!" To which Jibzy would add, "I go "pom!" then whip you-" then Riho would add, "Ah ah ah - rebersu! Rebersu."

"Okay? Okay? Okay?" Each of us would do the 3-finger-ok sign after every spot discussed. We eventually finished constructing the match, and did about 4 or 5 run-throughs backstage while the show went on.
____________________________________________________

My eyes were wet again seconds before we went out the curtain. This was it. I was either going to die looking stupid, or die knowing I did a successful job working a match with 3 veterans. Crystal made her entrance first. When it was my turn, I let out one loud scream. My music hit and waited a few seconds before walking out.

WHAT IN THE WORLD?? WHO DISTRIBUTED THESE 'JAYE SERA SECTION' SIGNS???! 

Aside from the spotlight that blinded me, I saw a quite an ocean of white papers with black, bold letters that read "JAYE SERA SECTION #ANGAS." It couldn't be possible. I knew someone did this. There had to be a culprit. Just like when Cali Nueva surprised me one day with a compilation of video messages from the other PWR wrestlers giving me the most genuine words of encouragement. As much as I wanted to hug those guys who held the signs, I shrugged it off for the moment and decided I had to keep my focus on.

The match started, and to sum it up...it was fun and fast and amazing... I didn't screw up. With assistance by the three girls in the ring, I'm convinced that I was able to do my job. I also just want to share how I thought I would be killing myself when I climbed the top rope to hit my first ever moonsault. My legs must have been shaking, but the adrenaline drowned the feeling of fear because it was super strong. I jumped off and flipped back, slamming my body against Crystal, and I thought I went deaf for a second. Not for real, but because I could barely make out the chants / screams the crowd gave.

I am extremely grateful. For this opportunity that I was given. Riho, Jibzy, Crystal. To share a ring with you three is such a huge honor. I thank you for sharing a fantastic game in the ring with me. For letting me step within your "palace" and share with me some of your glory that you've all worked hard for, for years. Thank you very much.

I'm thankful to Cali for making that video and for every single time he messaged me with encouragement. To everyone in that video compilation who gave a message. To Coach Ro who wowed me when he said he believed in me. To Mavin who warmed my heart with a parody song. To Super P for making the cutest illustrations that uplift my spirit. To Jian who told me how some things were meant to be. To Inah who believes she sees magic in me. To Trian who said, "Just fight for your dreams." To a wrestling hero that is JD who believed in my hardwork. To Jhemherlhynn who not only was very happy about me being part of that match, but to this day still stands as one of the biggest blessings in my life for this year. To Boss President Red who was one of the people who made this match possible and gave me such a big opportunity at such a great wrestling match. To Evan Carleaux who recorded his message while drunk because...Gagui! To everyone who hugged me in the locker room after the match. To Camus who showered me with the F-word multiple times while hugging me. To Shaukat who touched my heart when he said he went emotional seeing that high spot. To Z whose words felt extremely genuine saying how proud he was of me, and proud is such a strong word my friend, as we shared endless hugs back and forth and I went thanking him countless times for teaching me and pushing me. To Nicole, who not only was / has always been my source of strength and motivation, but was also responsible in glammin' up my face with her incredible make-up skills. To my siblings from another parents, Jeorge, Joyce, Eamiel, and my close friends Mayan and Patsy who showed their support by watching the show live, I couldn't express how much your attendance meant to me. I love you guys.

AHHH. I could go on and this post would be a 300-page novel.

I WILL NEVER FORGET THIS DAY. IT'S THE BEST ONE I'VE HAD SO FAR!

Dear Lord, thank You for You know what's best and for teaching us Your ways.

For the past month I died as I'd been lost into a sea of worries and fears. But PWR Live: Championship Spirit was the day I was reborn with championship spirit, by the Holy Spirit.

My First Wrevo X-perience

"603 pesos..." I mentally grumbled as I tossed my phone to my left side and leaned my head back, looking out the window as my Grab car passed by the Makati architecture enveloped in darkness. I really hate spending big money. Especially on ride share apps. Or really, just anything expensive in general.


May 26, 2019. We, Philippine Wrestling Revolution, had just finished doing the biggest show in Philippine wrestling this year, Wrevolution X 2019. It has exhausted me in various (good) ways. I could still feel every ounce of each emotion boiling hot inside my system as I took this ride home. As I fixated my eyes on the lamp posts shedding little to no light on the streets, I still recalled the beautifully-constructed matches. The PWR ring with different set of wonderful talents. The loud pops of the hot crowd. The sheer joy. The incomparable energy of the Power Mac Center Spotlight that was thrown by the crowd, that was absorbed by every wrestler that came out that curtain which bounced back to the crowd and resonated through the walls of the venue. Excitement and fear and heart-attacks and tears. All these came out for every beautiful story that was told inside that ring.

Post-show photo

I wasn't supposed to be able to wrestle today. Due to my nasal bone fracture nearly a month ago, I was advised by my doctor to avoid any intense physical activity for straight 30 days as I let it heal. Today marked the 22nd day and I had decided to do the match because I knew no amount of pain and regret would ever compare to the one I would've felt had I chosen to withdraw myself from the match. This was Wrevolution X after all, not to mention, my first one. I was participating in the pre-show match that was the over-the-top-rope Battle Royale together with the Cali Nueva, Rederick Mahaba, Kapitan Tutan, Brad Cruz, Bolt, Revo Ranger, Gatilyo, Joey Bax, and the returning Zayden Trudeau - for an All Out War title shot (and rights to some weird picture of Kap's which I've zero interest in). Considering it was literally a rumble, everyone knew it would be chaotic. Slightly, I'd been scared for myself. But it had been agreed upon to kind of keep me safe as we worked through the match to avoid worsening the injury. I had convinced myself later on that I'd be all right. However, when I met with the boys to discuss the match earlier today, Z walked up to me broaching the idea he said he'd been thinking about as a spot between him and myself.

"So I have this spot which I think we could do," Z started as we got up from the seats ringside.

I think I had been focused for a few seconds on what he was saying until he revealed the name of the move.

Brain buster. 

No.

Brain bustaaaaah!

I think I just looked at him with a very forced, awkward-looking smile. He talked for the next few seconds explaining the mechanics and science of the move and the positioning and everything, assuring me that he could keep it safe and all that. I swallowed with a hint of fear behind a forced smile, still. He then said he was pretty sure we could do it - that I could do it.

"If you feel uncomfortable we don't have to do it."

"No, it's cool," I half-lied. "I'm okay with it." I stretched my slightly quivering lips once more into a weird wide smile.

Takte kaya ko ba 'yon???

I'd never tried that before with anyone. I've only done a diving clothesline off the top rope but nothing this crazy. The move elicits fear just by trying to picture it in your head. I was scared. I might have been so lost in my scaredy-cat thoughts as I paced back and forth inside the dressing room because I almost wasn't able to mouth a proper response when Crystal twirled my red curls with her fingers and looked at my face.

"Your face has super light make-up compared to mine," she randomly pointed.

It took seconds before I was able to answer. "The colors and glitter suit your face."

While what I said was true, the real reason I had little (to almost no) make-up was because... I really can't put on a good, show-ready make-up look. You can challenge me to apply BB cream, lip balm, some eyebrow, and some Johnson's baby powder and I'd totally kill it. But if you're talking all-glam - smokey-eye with a wing and blending colors and glitter on my lids and contour and all that - I'm such a zero. The only reason I had great make-up on my debut match against Jhemherlhynn at Wrestle-ution back in January was because Nicole got me all show-ready and she's such an amazing make-up artist (huhu thank you so much again Nikki). Of course, I couldn't ask for her help every time we do a show because. Nakakahiya na.

When we went to rehearse the move, I really didn't want to disappoint Z and really...really gave it my best to achieve the proper position and all. Z was just all kind and understanding and patient enough - all qualities of a good coach right? First time we did it, I was still hesitant and couldn't get a good height out of my jump.

"I need you to jump harder," Z said.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

I forgot just how many times I apologized for not being able to jump harder. But he constantly told me, "It's okay." We tried about 3 times outside the ring before I earned his sweet-sounding, "Perfect." I was finally able to establish myself vertically and utilize some core strength properly. I also felt anxious because it seemed that I was tiring him out with each try. But now it was time to try it on the top rope. Again, fear ate me.

As we climbed the ropes and he hooked my head in his arm and I hooked his in mine, my heart was beating hard. "Ready? 1-2..."

"Wait wait wait Z omygosh!" I was just thinking so many fearful thoughts! I couldn't help but really be afraid. I trusted Z and there was no question with his abilities and skills. But.. but... I was afraid.

"Hey," he spoke calmly. "If you're not okay with it and feel uncomfortable, we won't do it."

I paused for a while. That wasn't what I wanted to happen. I definitely wanted to do it, I just needed to get rid of my fear. I might be thinking I trusted Z, but I didn't trust him completely. And that's what I had to do. So we tried it one more time. And...

"Perfect."

I heard him say the second time. He got me ready, and I was ready.

Later on during the match, we did it and the crowd went nuts. I couldn't be any happier with it and I'm just ever so grateful to Z for pushing me and being patient with me.

My subtle friendship with Boss Red

(c) Mike Yap

Finding the perfect timing to attack these crazy boys

(c) Mike Yap

Blinded by the Stars with me in the ring - they're shining bright

(c) Mike Yap

So in totality, my Wrevo X-perience as a wrestler looks like this:

1. Paid respect (and equality) to Red
2. Killed by Z
3. Betrayed by Cali

But as a fan, it's a little something like:

1. Went crazy about the dueling 450's by Cali and Z
2. Got so invested in Khenmherlhynn
3. Was so moved by Mh4rckie's kakai-proposal
4. Got my heart warmed by JDL's victory and even more so when Bombay joined him in the ring to celebrate his victory and brotherhood
5. Got lost and indulged in huge disbelief upon seeing Motor City Devil
6. Extremely emotional during the main event - PWR Championship match between Quatro and Ralph Imabayashi

Not lying with number 5. Cali (who'd betrayed me earlier) and I had been lost in our own little corner as we watched Quatro and Ralph tear the house down from afar and we reacted ever-so-extremely to every page unfolded of that championship match book. We were crying and holding each other just because of how beautiful the storytelling was by those two. I was getting super exhausted by the match, we all were, we had released every scream of excitement and fear and frustration in the last 40 minutes and those two Lords inside that ring wouldn't end it just yet. They were such... champions. I think the last 4 falsies, my eyes were literally welling up with tears and my hands and lips were shivering out of sheer joy - it's like getting drunk in this irresistible liquor known as wrestling. I hadn't been much aware until Robynn tapped me asking why the heck I was crying. "Ang ganda kasi," I answered absentmindedly, not taking my eyes off the ring.

with the Battle Royale winner and AOW contender, Kap

Nerparts

with the new PWR Champion, Quatro

I was exhausted mentally and emotionally - but in a good way. This show, Wrevolution X, really shook me to the foundations of my soul. I feel absolutely grateful to have been part of this historic day. I'm ever so, sooooo grateful.

After reflecting on life a bit, I decided that I didn't care about spending 603 pesos on a Grab ride tonight. Wrevolution X brought me so much joy, it was impossible to feel any form of negativity towards anything.

Thank you, PWR family. I love you.

More Than a Cold, More Than a Flu, I Feel Old, And Smell Like Poo

Basically called myself Miss Bum Sick for literally being sick out of my butt for an entire week. While it was great to be out-of-office (which translates to marginally being away from client's phone calls, emails, and desk tasks - yes I say marginally because I do mean by this as only to a slight extent of being away from all these office duties because we all can never really be away from work, thanks to Mr. Digital Age and all its bioelectric energy-powered devices), it did feel exasperating to be constantly in bed, battling the great headache and abnormal cold whilst having to deal with the deadly summer heat of this country and...

...the very unpleasant Maynilad water situation here.

During our company team building about a week ago, I unfortunately met an accident while playing beach soccer with my colleagues. I still don't know up to now why I happened to be overly determined with a fiery passion in my heart to win that stupid game, despite knowing it wouldn't get us any special prize. I was just. Determined to win that last score. A colleague from the opposite team happened to have the same attitude and drive I'd had that night and both our eyes were set on that huge soccer beach ball. And so the most unfortunate scene took place: two angry, hungry forces...collided.

Unluckily, I was the one who fell down from the unexpected collision as he suddenly, accidentally smashed me with his elbow, specifically smacking against my eye and nose. It was suddenly dark and I could swear I saw one big star sparkling before falling on my back on the gravelly sand in the middle of the Batangas beach.

Hence, a swollen nose bridge and a hideous black eye.

Definitely, a wave of worries surged through my head. Is this major injury? Am I seriously hurt? Am I going to be unconscious? Is this heaven? 

Will I be able to wrestle on Sunday?

That last question whispered by my subconscious certainly didn't need an answer. To be more accurate, it didn't need NO for an answer. I constantly iced my face until the swelling died down even just a little. I legit looked like I'd come out straight from a Pacquiao fight (with Pacquiao significantly knocking me out the 1st round). This must be what his opponents feel after every fight, I thought to myself.

After letting everyone know (Philippine Wrestling Revolution heads, parents, friends), I was decided to push through with my match at PWR Live: Destino. Seeing as how I was put in a match up against the fantastic and well-known Punk Rock Maiden Robynn, withdrawing from the match was in no way, shape, or form, an option for me. Sunday morning, I re-discussed my match with her, our agent, and our president where we decided to tweak a few parts by avoiding my face to prevent further damage.

We got everything over with, and my heart was filled with joy after the match, ever so grateful to Robynn, and ever so grateful to myself for deciding to go with the match. It was only after Sunday that I had a chance to go to an ENT doctor to get my nose checked. As I've said, I wasn't able to go to work beginning Monday due to the severe headache and pain on my nose. We were told that I was going to need to do more than an X-ray - she advised me to go through a CT scan exam.

Turns out, I have a nasal bone fracture - a linear fracture. This meant, while I don't have to go through a surgery, I did need to take antibiotics and a 30-day-rest with no intense physical activity to really let it heal.

It didn't sound good - especially when he began to elaborate that I can't do any wrestling, not even a workout as this might strain the bone more and worsen the fracture. FOR 30 DAYS???! I can't accept this life, I mentally whimpered. Immediately, I had to let the PWR president know of my situation - and while I've been feeling down since the doctor broke the news to me, our president Jake De Leon was ever so positive about it saying he's hopeful that I can recover faster and earlier so that I can make it to the next show - the biggest one we have lined up this year - Wrevolution X!

The doctor also indicated that this injury has also caused my abnormal cold - my nose is either too clogged or too overflowing with mucus and I've been having trouble breathing. So he also gave me (made me buy, actually) a nasal spray to relieve the congestion in my nose from time to time.

Friday morning made me feel better when God seemingly sent an angel on the roads of Facebook messenger through the digital body of my nerparts, fellow PWR Wrestler Cali Nueva. He'd messaged to check if I was okay, to which I responded, "Need a hug." Our conversation went from me telling the whole story to him revealing why he doesn't read books anymore, to exchanging similar viewpoints on focusing on individual growth instead of spending time with the wrong people, to him questioning my Halaman lifestyle, and discussing Rederick Mahaba's mic skills. It was so random yet so sensible and this is why it's so comforting to chat with this guy. We just get each other, we learn new things no matter what the topic is, and most importantly, I forget about bad stuff like this linear fracture in my freaking nose.

And that's the story of how I spent a week surrounded by antibiotics, pain relievers, and nasal spray decongestants while battling the oven-like heat inside our house, comforted by Inuyasha on Netflix at times and ice cream that was a special request to my mom which she ever so kindly granted. I was also on a binge-worrying session for every client's email that popped on my phone from time to time, thinking so much about all the work piling up on my desk, awaiting my grand return only to have me cry in defeat when I finally see them again. Viber conversations with the boss and the team to somehow still coordinate on some projects (also in hopes I could lessen the piled up load when I get back), eating solid good food courtesy of my mom's cooking plus sweet treats and gaining 2 lbs real quick because of that, and getting back to the meds and nasal spray and oh, a life spent close with tissue rolls for blowing my nose literally every 5 minutes.

So yeah. I lived that kind of life this past week.

I did all of that...with quite an inconsistent shower routine, too.

Meteora

i hear her stomp
realizing where i don't wanna be

dead beat, i sluggishly push myself up

like a newly turned zombie

as i sit upright,

still adjusting my vision

my nose takes a knee strike

whipping me into deliberate misdirection

"No, no," i absently plead,

weakly waving my hands

her next move, so hard to read

through a curtain of unkempt red strands

she runs the ropes, and she yells

i should move, but i'm not sure how to

she jumps on me, and i forget the rest

just my smashed face, beneath pink tutu

Dying Seconds

She finally stepped out of their office building and into the breezy evening. Always working overtime, it wouldn’t be too long before the night deepened. The draping darkness almost completely dimmed her figure, but the lamp posts lining the path she walked exposed some of her physical details that could be reflected - her old, scratched eyeglasses, and the now orangey-faded color of her short hair - both glinted in the small amount of brightness in the deep night. 

As the wind blew stronger and through her hair, she swiftly ran a hand inside the pocket of her long gray cardigan, subsequently pulling it to cover her body. Her other hand held her plain black satchel bag which perhaps contained nothing more than merely essential items a working girl would have - a black wallet, a cellphone, a quirky purse for chargers and earphones, and perhaps a spacious monochrome-colored vanity pouch that only contained a lip balm for her sensitive lips. 

Those lips. The stars, the moon, and the sun had witnessed one too many memories of those lips. At one point too many, those lips were a source of some inexplicable, sheer delight.

Whether to appreciate the weather or to feel lonely about it, she didn’t know. It was the kind of weather that served bittersweet taste to her skin - while it gave her the breeze she yearned for after a long day, the coldness also sharply grazed her skin, biting at it...and somehow, it was also the kind of scrape that sliced through somewhere deeper, by some means making its way to her soul. 

That night, the weather was her bitter, wretched companion.

She picked up her pace, her black chucks evidently making noise from the scraping they made against the stoney surface of the path she was now treading. She couldn’t wait for another day to be over. Nothing new. Nothing special. 

Nothing beautiful about the cold night that was once, twice, thrice, too many times...crazy.

Crazy beautiful. 

Was crazy beautiful.

Had been crazy beautiful. 

Finally reaching the part of the path where the bridge she walked underneath of ended, she looked up at the big roof of gloom hovering over the planet she stood on. Dark skies. Shimmering stars. Pretty, sad. Pretty sad. Staring up, her eyes glistened with the same sadness that’d been consuming her for some time now, as they caught the light coming from the moon above which seemed to stare back down at her. 

Oh, how bad must she have wanted to reach for that moon, bring it down, and hold it in her hands till every single thing she didn’t want to feel was wiped off of her system.

It must’ve asked her, “How tired are you?”

For that brief moment she stopped from her tracks, she got surrounded by the needy children in an instant, asking for money. She wanted to give food, but it wasn’t what they wanted. Quickly, she walked past them.

Like she would do as she wanted at times, she jogged her way up the 5-step stone stairs that led her way to the parking lot. When she reached the top, she continued walking, but she walked in a sluggish manner. 

She looked so tired. Her face so gloomy. 

Must be from the sudden jog she did. But then again, she could be dying inside without anyone knowing the freaking sad truth. 

She finally went inside the parking lot. 

I watched her walk inside, and saw her fade away. Suddenly, the image of her crestfallen face and her broken demeanor was my last syndrome. 

“How are you still here?” I muttered to myself, wishing she could somehow hear it. 

Wishing she would somehow respond. 

“How...are you...still here,” I repeated sadly under my breath, hearing a hint of regret and despair in my tone all of a sudden.

Every ghost from the past knew I wanted to run after the broken angel that just walked by, but I couldn’t. 


And then the last thing I felt was the cold night biting at my soul, and the stitches in my heart that began to pop.

Bumps and Sexy Buttercup

I was trying so hard to hold it. I forced my mouth, stretching it into a tight-lipped smile. 

I was tired and happy and overwhelmed all at once. Thank you, Philippine Wrestling Revolution.

I just got through the PWR mentors/veterans' chest-chop initiation - which hurt like Glenn Rhee dying in The Walking Dead. It'd been an exhausting yet fulfilling training (comeback?) day in the ring. 

The bumps hurt. The rolls did make me feel dizzy. But my heart hoped that these strains did help big time to shake off the ring rust that'd been wrapped around my body for some time.

Nicole spread out her slim arms eaten by her long black sleeves, inviting me into a genuine and warm hug, despite the gross sweat-human I'd been.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said through my sweaty hair and into my ear. “You’ve said countless times that it’s never gonna happen and today you’ve taken the first step towards that dream. You’re my inspiration.” 

And that was it.

That triggered that one well-needed snap to let the tears flow. She just released a stream of all these heartfelt words and it caused me to be vulnerable to shedding tears.

I hugged back, tight, feeling the corners of my mouth tremble and the tears stream. My shoulders shaking from the ugly crying, she subsequently started rubbing my back, not doing anything to help my now-sentimental self.

Nicole Le Saux made me cry, and it was ugly. I felt ugly crying like that. At least she was holding me. 

I couldn’t believe I was ugly crying that day. I didn’t expect it to be that way.

It was true, I'd taken that first crucial, most-needed step that day. After three years of being restricted from that dream. Three years of going through frustration and pain from not being able to get a hold of that dream. Three years of being held back. Three years of painful, uncertain waiting.

Somehow, that day, it just wasn't impossible like how it'd been for three years. 

Somehow, that day, I was once again able to take a bump in that very ring...and take another chance to start working towards that wrestling dream.

How? 

It could be the never-ending wishful thinking. The constant frustration that had pinched my heart for three years when I was watching my talented friends in wrestling succeed little by little, and knowing and thinking I should be there with them, but I wasn't - hadn't been with them as they became successful. It could be the support that my brothers from another mother gave me at a time when I wasn't really sure anymore about getting back at it. Or it could be Nicole and Kuya Ouel's endless encouragement and insisting that I should come back, despite having only my solid, sorriest I can't anymore's as a response.

It could be just the power of some intergalactic shiznatch that might have been watching over my existence all these years!

Or really, it could just be God doing some mind-blowing magic again.

Life is full of twists.

Not to get ahead of myself, but this could be one of them.

And here I am, praying that I am able to fulfill it completely this time. Surpass whatever hindrance it might generate. 

Hoping this time, it's going to be for real.

I never wanted to make a scene at training, and I tried so hard to muster up all my internal strength to get myself together and shush my ugly-crying. Especially now that people seemed to be already surrounding the space occupied by my and Nicole's intertwined bodies.

"Oh ano 'yan?" Kuya Ouel walked up to us, eventually running a hand to join the back-rubbing that Nicole had been doing (which was zero help in stopping the tears). "Walang iyakan!" He playfully said.

"Hala bakit umiiyak?" K.T. was next to be inquisitive. 

I slowly pulled away from Nicole's embrace, rubbed my eyes as much as I needed in order to wipe all the tears mixed with sweat off of my face. I looked at K.T. "Sakit kasi nung chops eh!" I quipped, generating a sweet-sounding laugh from Nikki.

Later that evening I joined some of the guys at Chick n' Chops for dinner (which I learned was the guys' go-to-meal-place). After that, Nicole and I went home together.

“This is the longest we've been with each other!” Nicole exclaimed as we buckled up before leaving the parking lot. It was true. It's damn true. I was grateful for it.


We spent a chill night driving onto West Service Road, getting sorta lost in a little world of our own as we jammed to Paramore and My Chemical Romance like only krazie flawsome geeks would on a Friday night (even though it was a Sunday). 

Everytime I looked to the passenger seat by my right side, she was either giggling or banging her head to the beat of our cool playlist, enjoying her newly cut hair that made her look like a sexy Buttercup from the Powerpuff Girls, giving her entire aura such a renewed vitality.

And I couldn't help but think of

1) How even prettier she looked in her new hair

2) And how this little sunshine of a Frenchie had such power to make me ugly-cry. 

Shorties Rak West Service Road 

Tekken 7 Story Special Chapter: The Agony of Battling the Messatsu

June 2, 2017 was the day I excitedly welcomed the return of the best selling fighting game franchise ever. The night had deepened as darkness draped (credit to Sudam Panigrahi's beautiful poem lol), straight from work's exhibit activity I rushed to the nearest DataBlitz store (which happened to be at Mall of Asia at the time, meaning I had to walk long like a true warrior), not really caring how late it was and really caring more about the fact that they were soon gonna close. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I ran my way through the crowded mall, finally staggering into the store, my heart pounding hard in my chest as I was just seconds away from getting the gold in my tiny hands.

About five people were already in line. And they all came here for the same pot of gold I aimed for. The game that's reeking of treasure and sheer fighting excellence... Tekken 7.  

Joy was incomparable the moment I finally got to the counter for my turn to order the golden game."Tekken 7 po," I immediately told the lady cashier, my voice still sounding scratchy as I was still catching my breath.

"Everybody's buying Tekken 7!" The girl I followed in line, who was still waiting on the side for their own Tekken 7 game to be examined and bagged, exclaimed. It caught my attention and looked to my left only to see that the skinny girl was talking to me, a wide smile on her face and her eyes sparkled with glee as she waited for me to say something.

I was still thinking of something to reply but someone was quick to butt in, "Who's your main?" The voice came from a dude standing next to Skinny Smiling Girl, who turned out to be skinny as well. And he was also talking to me. And I figured they were a couple.

A cute gamer couple. Wait, let me rephrase that. A cute, skinny gamer couple. 

Feeling awkward at how sweaty I was, I took about an uncomfortable fraction of a millisecond before finally replying. "Xiao Yu," I said in my low voice, smiling awkwardly.

"Oh!!! Little Chinese girl!!!" Skinny Smiling Girl shrieked with joy, genuine bubbliness bursting out from the spirit within her, melting my bruised heart and my tired soul. "So do you also ship her and Jin?" she followed up, the enthusiasm unfading in her tone.

The awkwardness on my face completely faded and I was all smiles at this point, replying, "TOTALLY." I was almost ready to blurt out that I spent my highschool and college days reading Jin x Xiao Yu fanfiction stories online and that I ran as a candidate for Jin x Xiao Yu Club president. Luckily, I was able to hold myself together.

"My main girl is Asuka," Skinny boyfriend said. 

"So you guys ain't gonna sleep tonight?" I looked at them knowingly, feeling that it was the same plan I had in mind for the night.

"Oh no," Skinny Smiling Girl responded. "Need to practice tonight!" She exclaimed, Skinny boyfriend only laughed. Moments later, they finally got their game and prepped to leave the store. 

Our little geek conversation was finally about to end. "You guys enjoy the game," I said as the couple walked towards the door. 

"You too! Hope to battle with you online!" S.S.Girl said with a smile, as she and Skinny BF waved me goodbye and left.

And since we never got to exchange PSN id's, I'm gonna take this opportunity to give them a shoutout. Cute skinny gamer couple, if you're reading this, my PSN tag is infraRAGE. Look me up. Add me. Let's battle it out and be happy.

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I put the disc in, and let the game take control of my soul... the opening flashed before my eyes, I surrendered myself to the power of the Iron Fist and let it absorb me little by little, reveling in sheer joy at the beautiful intro playing on the screen. A force that's more powerful than any intergalactic force there ever will be...

First few moments into the game, the ecstasy was just unstoppable. Arcade battle. Treasure battle. VS battle. Online mode. Story mode. Gallery selection of all Tekken games ever. New characters. My head had never hurt in a manner so pleasant from the confusion of which option to choose first. 

The first thing I decided on was trying out different characters. My mains, Xiao Yu, Lee Chaolan, and Hwoarang. And the new fancy ones. Including the arguably infamous Josie Rizal, first ever Pinoy fighter in Tekken history. 

Josie Rizal. And oh, each character has different costumes! <3 3="" i="">

Like any avid fan, I got observations. The very noticeable costume change for each character. Lee Chaolan doesn't have the vest as his default attire anymore. This game gave me questions.

Why does Hwoarang have black hair and only kept a streak of red in it? Why is he wearing an eye patch?

Has Nina Williams just gotten engaged or is just fighting in a wedding dress some sort of trend today?

Who are these new fighters and what colorful stories do they have?

Why put an Otaku in the tournament, Namco? (lol)

What or who is the inspiration behind the character of Shaheen? And is there a significance when his shemagh head gear falls off during a fight? (My friend is worried everytime he loses his shemagh when fighting -- shoutout to my bestfriend's baby boy, Marlon, who can't help worrying about it, and loves Claudio).

The never-ending puzzle of the bad blood in the Mishima family of course is one.

The mystery of this new character Kazumi...(and why does she have a frickin' tiger -- shoutout to my broski Motec, who digs girls with tiger lol), and what does she have to do with the Mishima history...

And I think the biggest question in this game... is what in the world is A K U M A doing here, Messatsu-ing his way from Street Fighter into the world of the Iron Fist???!!!!

 Akuma, who claims that his power is absolute.

Kazumi...

In order to get answers, I played the main story mode (15-chapters-long!!!). For the benefit of those who haven't played the game yet (or the story mode for that matter), I'll try not to spoil too much.

The main story is narrated by a mysterious journalist who has engaged his life into covering the story of the Mishima family. Other than the fact that this reporter tells the tale in a somber voice all throughout, and that he is urged by his grudge to get to the roots of the conflict and the Mishima's puzzling history, little is known about him. Clear explanations about his identity aren't revealed even when you finish the story. 

When you start playing the story, you get to play as Kid Kazuya, battling Papa Heihachi. My fists are clenching in cuteness overload as I perfectly picture how Kid Kazuya looks like (it's a plus that Tekken always has the best quality for its cut scenes). WHAT A PRECIOUS LITTLE BOY.

A precious little boy, who apparently carries the devil's blood in him.

Kid Kazuya vs. Papa Heihachi

(I have a new life goal now: Adopt Kid Kazuya one day, take him under my wing

to nurture, to love, and to grow. Oh, my heart.)

It's no secret that Kazuya has carried an undying hatred towards his father. But in this game, we later learn that Kazuya is showing this anger because of the death of his mother.

Kazumi. 

The cause of her death? 

Papa Heihachi killed her. And it's natural to hate someone who killed your mother. But Heihachi did what he had to, because Kazumi had the devil's blood in her. Papa Heihachi, in his mind, was doing what was best for everybody. And it's the reason he threw his little boy off the cliff.

But as expected, since Kazuya carried the devil's blood in him, the fall didn't kill him. He survived. He lived. And grew with a hatred in his heart, building a desire to "tear his father to pieces" one day. 

The power of this picture will never die

And as every Tekken fan knows, the saga has been about hatred between Heihachi, Kazuya, and Jin, a constant battle for the leadership of the Zaibatsu corporation.

As you go over the main story's chapters, it goes to cover the other side-angles involving some of the characters (including Nina, Lee, Lars, and Jin). 

Reaching chapter 8, the story of Akuma is revealed, along with his involvement in this whole, beautifully painful mess called The Mishima Saga. It turns out... Akuma, is an associate of Kazumi, and was tasked by her to kill Heihachi...and made an additional request with tears and perhaps an aching heart, to destroy her son Kazuya as well, in order to stop him from growing the vengefully evil power within, and keep him from becoming a hostile threat. 

Father and son finally faced off against each other by chapter 14, where I played as Heihachi and finished the match only to be defeated by Kazuya in the cut scene.

Yes, Kazuya prevailed over his father.

The chapter ends with Kazuya carrying the unconscious Papa Heihachi in his hands, standing on a cliff, and tossing his father into the lava.

Sigh.

I finished the 14 chapters with a heart so hooked and a mind so absorbed. And realized... I just unlocked a special chapter, and I had to play it to unveil more of this saga.

Just when I thought I had reached the end to this battle... I was startled by the story's special chapter as a hungry Akuma appeared behind Kazuya on the same stage he defeated his father. And he looked hungry for some instant carnage, vowing to Kazuya that "he will not rest until his demise."

"You are the one who will die," Kazuya retorted to the challenger before transforming into his true devil form.

And it was just the start of the vicious, difficult battle against the Messatsu. 

This special chapter match is the true definition of I M P O S S I B L E. Seriously. Quite the hardest boss battle ever. It's just. Really. Difficult. On all levels. I may have cried into my pillow all night just contemplating long and hard of a strategy to defeat frickin' Akuma. 

In just one night, I believe I'd developed a severe level of frustration over the fatal thought that I couldn't beat frickin' Akuma, whose fists "know no equal." Even with the game's new Story Assist button system (to rescue players in beating the bosses), it's extremely hard. Inflicting damage on Akuma just always seemed a long, hard road to go! Not only does he continuously shoot fireballs, but he also has teleportation powers with his Ashura Senku and instantly refills his super meter with one move.

ARE YOU SERIOUS BRO WHAT???

And the worst part, the highly frustrating aspect of the whole thing is his rage art. That moment when he warns you to "prepare to die a thousand deaths"? IT'S THE WORST!!! It's unblockable, you can't dodge it, and you're instantly killed once it hits you...even when you have less than half of a damage on your health gauge. You're over. The Messatsu has prevailed. The best joke in Tekken history... I'm laughing right now as I'm reading a review from a random player saying "Akuma's rage art can go straight to hell." That's how frustrating it is, you'd wish for its soul to burn in the depths of hell. I can't recall how many times I had to start over and had to hear Akuma say "My power is absolute" again and again.

I spent the entire night strategizing, practicing, starting the match over and over and over again... my fingers had been almost injured from the constant button-hitting-sessions, my eyes sore from the image of dying over and over and the damage had stepped its way into my brain and my head hurt and my heart was tortured by the mere truth that I simply couldn't beat this guy! What in the world! 

What sorcery is this???

It was literally impossible. I had about four or five times where I almost...almost...! Beat the darn monster. A L M O S T. All those times, I failed to hit my own rage attack! FACEPALM! DANG IT DANG IT DANG IT. I poured my entire heart into the fight and I still couldn't get the job done...

And I was left with no other choice. But to do what was needed...in order to finish this, and know what was really next in the Mishima saga.

Swallowing my pride, I went to change the story difficulty, and leveled it down to easy mode. That meant switching from 3 stars difficulty...down to 1 star difficulty. (sobs)

I started the match over, more confident. I didn't have to try as hard as I'd just had in the last few minutes. Soon enough, I hit my rage attack at the most perfect time...

...and watched as Kazuya so devilishly warned to make the stage Akuma's burial ground, his true devil form glowing and beaming all kinds of devious energies (best devil form of Kazuya I've seen so far), as he charged, and a forceful, demonic power blasted straight out of his devil heart and devil wings, shooting towards Akuma.

But then Akuma said, "I only seek the blood of battle." 

The moment Kazuya realized the battle wasn't over yet, he charged from the devil eye on his forehead.

"Come at me like your life depends on it," Akuma challenged, and charged his Messatsu, a ball of blue and violet thunders coalescing within his mighty hands...

"I'll send you straight to hell!" Kazuya evilly retorted.

Both all-powerful creatures shot their powerful blasts against each other, the entire stage ending in an abstract of explosions.

And it ended just like that. Frickin' cliffhanger.

Perhaps Akuma's going to be in Tekken 8? 

Finally, it was over. I may have had to change the difficulty of the match, but yeah. Certain times will require you to resort to desperate measures. 

I could finally sleep well.

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Now I'm just spending my time on treasure battle, focusing on ranking up fast to be a Tekken God Prime with my mains Xiao Yu, Lee, and Hwoarang. And oh, obtaining more and more fight money to customize extravagantly and purchase all the nostalgic videos on the gallery section.

Whether or not you play Tekken, I wholeheartedly thank you for taking the time to read this and join my weird crazy journey in battling the Messatsu for a moment. 

Add me on PSN: infraRAGE

I'll just leave this here.

Twirling Split Ends

A minuscule blob of saliva escapes from my chapped, morning lips as my head is bowed down. I watch it sadly splatter on the edge of the toilet bowl I'm sitting on and trickle its way down the ceramic surface.

I didn't realize that as I take my daily morning poopster, I've been staring so blankly into nothingness with lips slightly open, like a door left ajar by someone who's just walked out right after getting what they needed from the room.

I let out a hopeless sigh, thinking about how I have to yet again drag myself throughout another lazy, bleak-looking, plain-sad day.

You know, most of the time...things will not really work out the way we planned it to.

And I say that because it's just true on all kinds of levels. As Kurt Angle would exclaim, oh it's true...it's damn true.

I rake my fingers through my hair, once again contemplating on the day that so eagerly awaits my presence. In no way, shape or form, am I ready for another day. Each morning when my eyes would flutter open against the steams of sunlight seeping into my blinds, my brain just automatically sets a tirade of hateful expressions at liberty - a reaction which I've lately concluded as something that has become a natural bodily function of mine.

It's okay if you think that it doesn't look good. It doesn't, at all. Right now, nothing in my life is meant to look good. 

At least I don't lie about it.

So. What in the world have you been up to lately? What screwed up decision have you made recently? 



Did you just fly to another country with a firm decision to be there 'for good' and realized after a few weeks that maybe you've made the wrong choice? Think again. You didn't just save up all that money for a big decision like that only to have your mental or emotional issues order your physical self to fall back. 

Or maybe you stupidly intruded into someone else's happiness? Think again. Do you really think that that person deserves to have their happiness dissolve before their eyes, all because of an intruder? Who even gave you the power to crush someone's heart in your very own hands? No one did, but you took it anyway when it wasn't meant to be taken in the first place. 

Taking that bestfriend for granted? Think again. When was the last time you actually spent quality time with them, one that's so well-deserved? You haven't seen them in a long time, go get off work early and spend a nice dinner out with them to catch up. Make them feel special. Bring them good breakfast if you guys are always with each other at school or work. Show them you want them in your life forever, because you do. And they can never be replaced. Ever. Especially not by some newbies who pretend they like you and will only swindle you into trusting them.

Changed your mind again about sending that resignation letter? Think again. Is this like the 9th time you composed that letter, printed it out, only to tear it in pieces because you changed your mind again? Haven't you been wanting to do this for a long time? Sure, you'd tell me, "There's a lot to consider." We all know that. Just also consider how so consumed you already are with that bullcrap routine, and how toxic this environment you call 'work place' has become for you.

Holding back on that audition? Think again. What, is it because someone intimidated you? Insecurities eating you? Someone told you you ain't good enough? Screw what they think. This is your battle, not theirs. Push through that opportunity and find out the results yourself. Don't give anyone the right to tell you that you don't deserve a chance. Because we all do, and it is not their choice. 

Dumping your partner for real? Think again. Haven't you been searching this human race for that one person who isn't ever going to let go of your hand while running over every barrier getting in your way? Someone who'll break the rules for you if they have to. Who'll have unlimited patience for all your shortcomings, massive appreciation for all your efforts, sharing with you all that lavish romantic, magical moments...showering you with all that pure love solely because they think it's what you deserve. Haven't you just found someone who's passionately committed to sticking with you through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows? Maybe you should not trade their heart for something shallow and short-lived.

Cursing yourself at the moment for missing that morning workout? Think again. Okay, you can blame yourself if you slept in. Who knows, this could be the nth time that you slept through that morning jog. I believe that if you fail to do something once, it is considerably a mistake, and I'd surely place that as subject to excuse and forgiveness. But to fail to do the same thing the second time, it's already your choice. 

Giving up on something? Think again. No extensively cryptic explanations needed.



My still-sleepy eyes shut for a moment. Guess I'm waiting for a miraculous energizer of some sort to magically course its way through my veins to get me going for the day ahead. Or some kind of divine intervention to occur.

I open them back up, and I see nothing but the depressed wall tiles of our bathroom, and the lonely space that has encircled my inconsolable soul.

I laid my life down for something I so deeply cared about and held onto, and now I'm silently twirling split ends around my finger, my mind racing for anxious thoughts...as I listen to the broken beats of my heart.

For the second time, I release a heavy sigh. Choices. Here and there. 

I slowly get up on spaghetti legs, against my will, just so I can frickin' get this day over with. I grab the bidet with one hand, lather some soap on my other hand, and proceed to wash my poop-splattered butt to get on with another unfussy day.