On an Ending

I don’t think I’m very good at endings. It’s not a total tragedy; from what I could tell, JJ Abrams is pretty much the sameā€”his beginnings are smashing, but then middle bits get muddled and the endings are a crapshoot.

Most of the time, I don’t even get to endings. I’ve lost count of all the novels, short stories, and poems I haven’t completed. And don’t get me started on my personal crochet projects (because chances are, I won’t finish those in a timely manner either).

But today I’m facing an ending.

This is my last day on the job I’ve had for six years. I’ve been here so long, I’ve even developed a relationship with the Coke vending machine at our extension pantry.

Don’t worry, we’re just friends.

Anyway, back to the ending: I’m generally not good at endings. But this one seems to be turning out pretty well. It looks like the team’s capable of chugging along without me, and I’ve occupied myself with freelancing and major crochet projects for Christmas (which I will definitely complete, because they’re not personal). I have plans to get my government paperwork in order, because I haven’t been able to do that kind of adulting for the last 3 years.

I will still miss the shit out of this company. We may be growing in different directions at the moment, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t a hugely important part of my life.

I will miss the shit out of the people I worked with, because damn if they aren’t the best group of people I know. The Manila Team has an awesome and supportive office culture, one I wish more departments in companies have.

I will even miss getting up early for an early shift that lets me skip horrible Metro Manila traffic.

But as far as endings go, this one didn’t turn out so bad. No one died. Life goes on.

And there is hope.





These New Beginnings

Here’s the thing about new beginnings: they often need old ends to begin from.

A baby born today is more than just their parents’ child; they are millions of years worth of genes, dominating and receding like great empires. Our favorite summer blockbuster films are centuries worth of storytelling in the dark.

We are the answer to our histories, and we will be the questions of the future.


This week, my country elected a new President. I did not vote for him, but I accept his victory.

We are still waiting to see who will serve as his Vice President; it’s either the son of a dictator or the widow of a martyred man. The situation rings familiar.

We act as if this election will define us, when in truth it is we who have molded it from the ashes of a revolution that, in many ways, we have failed to honor.

And I find hope in the knowledge that this, however it turns out, is a step towards our better selves.