about me, i am a christian, i am a dentist, i am a mission dentist

Touching People’s Lives

I’ve always wanted to be a dentist. My uncle was a dentist and I said, “I want to do that”, and when I finally became one I realized that it wasn’t so special. Haha. Actually, when younger individuals tell me they want to be a dentist, I’d always discourage them and say, “Oh do not make the mistake I made!”

Of course the main advantage you enjoy when you’re in private practice is that you have so much freedom, being your own boss and all. But that’s not much, really. It’s mostly hardwork and with very little gain. Things change, however, when you revert your focus.

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about me, in my opinion, my travels

The Death Curve

I was on a leisurely motorcycle ride around Negros Occidental when I saw this along the stretch of sugar cane plantations. I saw it from a far, laughed at it, and decided I needed to go back around so I could take a photo of it.

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about me, i am a christian

Another Year… and So I’m 37

I love the sunsets. Apart from it being a beautiful sight to witness… I like what it symbolizes. HOPE. It gives a bittersweet representation of life. When the sun sets, it closes the day to mark its end, but it also leaves with the promise to come back tomorrow. Bitter. Sweet.

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about me, blogging

New Year, New Blog

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Goodbye old blog

It has nothing to do with turning a new leaf, really, but maybe so. The truth is that for a while now I’ve been going through my blog and I realized that I’ve outgrown it in so many ways. But since I’ve given it so much (since 2008) it really isn’t easy to move on. As a matter of fact, when I took a small hiatus from blogging between 2013-2015, I was in so much pain the whole time, so I went back. Writing is my only vice. I do not smoke. I only drink socially. I don’t pull tantrums. I don’t rant on social media. I don’t go on depressive, catatonic states to escape. I don’t indulge in retail therapy. I don’t binge eat. I don’t go adventure-tripping. People deal with life in their own way–and WRITING¬†is what I do. I read somewhere once, “Writers can treat their mental illnesses everyday”, and I agree with that. I have gone through many potentially damaging chapters in my life that hardly moved me because of my capacity to release¬†emotions through a collection of words. Well, it’s writing and the Lord, of course… I want to make that clear.

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about me, food is good, random

Seafood Can Kill Me

Part of my friend’s vacay itinerary is to visit DAMPA. It is a shop and cook kind of restaurant and it serves mainly seafood. You go to the wet market to buy the food and then you choose a restaurant and tell them how you want the food cooked. It’s a bit pricey, but the food is fresh and is cooked amazingly so it’s really worth the money you pay.
So anyway, when my family goes to DAMPA they know to order for me fish and chicken/pork. I am allergic to seafood so places like DAMPA is not really for me, but I enjoy it nonetheless. Anyway, on our drive to Macapagal, I only then thought to remind my friend about my allergy. “Oh shoot!” She forgot but I told her not to worry about it because I can just order something for myself–and I got steamed fish with tausi (very yummy by the way!)
On Instagram, I said: “Literally… to DIE for”

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about me, love and relationships, stories of friends

I Don’t Have A Lot of Friends

My Facebook and other social networking accounts may show that I have numerous connections, but those are professional and personal contacts (mixed with countless acquaintances). In my life, I have met and connected with lots of people but only a few people have made a true impact in me. My close friends are consist of camp neighbors (who are my childhood friends), high school friends (my soul mates), my dentist friends (college and workmates) and some loose friends not belonging to a specific category. These people hold a special place in my heart and I love them. Most of them I grew up with, but some I met later on in life–which shows that friendship is not determined by numbers and not even by proximity.
When I was living in London, I left my friends for two years. I was so far but I became very close to a lot of them while I was away through letters. My friends and I sent letters, back and forth, and soon enough my two years was up and I was coming back home. When I did, when I was finally back, it was as if I hadn’t left.

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