My Open Journal Entries.
My Pieces 

Freya India says we’ve turned personality into pathology, that therapy-speak has replaced mystery with diagnosis. I disagree. What she calls mystery, I call confusion rehearsed to look profound. Psychology didn’t kill individuality; it gave it context. And for those of us who grew up punished for having feelings, that context is the closest thing we’ve ever had to freedom.

This open journal went a little viral—over 270k views for a love letter to public buses, working toilets, and functional governance in Davao City. From trauma births at DMC to free surgeries at SPMC, I unpack what it’s like to live in a city that... actually works. Featuring Mayor Baste, aircon, and flashbacks stitched without anesthesia.

This viral post (2.6M views) isn’t a hot take. It’s a lived one. A mother’s raw, unfiltered account of surviving the drug war from the inside—with bruises, regrets, and a reluctant, hard-earned peace. No apologies, no performance. Just truth, at a cost.

This journal entry hit 2M views for a reason: it’s not pretty. It’s a raw, lived account of meth, domestic abuse, and the fear that made Duterte’s drug war feel... necessary. No moral speeches here. Just survival. From bruised homes to safe streets, this is what the fight looked like up close.