Apr 17, 2025

How shared spaces reveal more about yourself.

I've always thought I already know how to adjust living in a shared space. During my 5 years in college, I stayed in a dormitory with 5 more girls - sharing 1 room and 1 toilet. After graduating, I shared again a condo flat with college friends, and then moved out again and shared another condo flat with workmates. I admit, all those years combined, I had to make adjustments to live comfortably with other people. Filipino have a specific term for that: "pakikisama". And it's part of life, you also have to do it in school, in the workplace, and even on your own house, with your family. 

Living in shared spaces teaches you a lot of things. Like how long someone's hair can clog a drain. Or how people pretend that they are not the last person to use the stove or microwave so they're not required to clean them. Or how absurdly specific people can get about kitchen cloth usage—yes, there’s a designated microfiber cloth for cleaning and a forbidden one that apparently comes with spiritual significance.

But mostly, shared spaces teach you things about yourself. Not the filtered version of yourself you post online or offer to coworkers in polite conversation. No, I mean the version of you that emerges when someone left used and unwashed plates in the kitchen sink for the whole day and now you can't help but wash them yourself.

You discover how much noise you can tolerate before you start fantasizing about burning the house down (quietly, of course). You figure out your emotional attachment to laundry schedules, how far your social battery really goes, and the deeply personal way you arrange items in the fridge and kitchen cupboard as a form of territorial dominance.

Living in a shared flat with people from your own country has its pros and cons. But living with other people from different country is quite a different story. Before my husband and I first moved into this shared flat with other nationalities, I thought I was adaptable. Reasonable. Laid-back. Fast-forward a few months, and I’m hiding in my room like a medieval hermit, cursing at a washing machine that lives in a bedroom I have to stealth-crawl through. I started noticing how “cozy” turned into “cluttered,” how framed photos started looking like surveillance, and how my internal monologue got progressively meaner.

Turns out, it’s not just about sharing space—it’s about sharing discomfort. You bump into people’s quirks, habits, and unresolved childhood traumas. And in doing so, you bump into yours.

But here's the twist: I'm still grateful for it. For all the weirdness, the passive-aggressive group chats, the awkward kitchen dances—weirdly, I came out knowing myself better. Less idealized. More human. Slightly more feral.

In a few weeks, we are leaving this place. The thought of a quieter, more private space is thrilling. But a part of me will always remember this flat as the place where I discovered that, apparently, I have a deep-seated emotional response to unwrapped bread kept in the plate cabinet.

Oct 30, 2023

Someday, I will leave this world

I was probably 8 or 9 years old the first time I had an awareness of death. I wanted to sleep but all I can think of was my grandparents and parents dying. I remember crying myself to sleep and it even went on for several nights after. I still didn't know how pray back then but I remember hoping that fearsome day will never come. They were overwhelming feelings for a child but I somehow managed to get through that fear. 

Many years after, my grandfather's sister died. I was around 18 this time and processing the concept of death meant writing a poem about it. I wrote this poem 11 years ago and I still have the same sentiments on death. It's inevitable, one day it's going to be my turn.

Sometimes it just seems too unfair. Like when my youngest brother died, just after he was born. I have never been so heartbroken for someone who I just saw for a few minutes. And most of the times, even though we know that someday, death will surely happen, we still take life for granted. Like when my grandfather died 5 months ago and I was working abroad. All I could think about when I was at the plane going home, are my regrets of choosing to be away from the people I care about the most. It felt like time traveling 20 years ago, to when I was so afraid that either of my grandparents are dying. 

I was taught of hope after death. That one day, we will meet again our loved ones on that beautiful and eternal place of peace. It's amazing how humans come up with ideas to cope.

Until then, I wish to keep this blog alive. Someday I will leave this world with a nonsense blog about my boring life in the 21st century.

Oct 1, 2023

It's Autumn Season!

I don't want to start this blog again with "I'm going to post a weekly blog starting today!" in a high-pitched, irritating voice.

I'm already very annoyed at myself wanting to start something then just immediately stops. 

This blog has been like that for over a decade now. I've started too many writing prompts and challenges already and I don't think I have finished any of them.

But hey, at least for now, my blog is still alive BUT barely breathing (in the tune of Breakeven by The Script). 

So, a quick update: It's the first of October and my second autumn season in Malta! But because I'm in a Mediterranean island, rusty-colored leaves falling from trees will not be common. Well, I'll just enjoy the cooler breeze after the scorching heat wave of summer.

I've been gatekeeping some cool spots here in Valletta. Never been to other countries in the EU except Italy, so I have to get the most of out this little island.

Some photos I took today:

Somewhere in Valletta

I had to go home early coz you know, nature called. 



Aug 16, 2023

To the 20 year old me

These are the things I wish I can tell you:

Don’t give up on what you like doing the most. Be wary self, because you will be preoccupied by the chaos of earning and spending. Someday you will lose your poetic vocabulary, have shorter attention span, will cringe at your own creativity and will feel inferior in this competitive society. I wish I can go back in time and prepared you for all these. I know that writing is what’s keeping you sane and I think you’ve actually gone insane for not keeping up with it. 


Time will fly too fast you could barely catch-up. But take a deep breath and just hang in there. Tomorrow is a day farther to your regrets and a day nearer to who you want to be.

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