Elyza Diaries: Part 3

The Child Who Witnessed the Greatest Scam in Sibling History

Just like my sister’s face when she realizes I’m ‘busy,’
yet in the exact same position I was an hour ago.
A facial expression that says it all.

Me: "I’m busy." 

Also me: completely motionless for 3 hours.

The perfect crime.
A groundbreaking performance of exhaustion...
from imaginary labor.

She rolls her eyes,
sighs like a mother of five (but she’s eleven),
and wails my name like I just sold her to another family—
then she laughs, and I know I’ve won.

 

I Show Love Through Comedy; For Her, It's Simply Being There

I was never one for plans, just hoping my future self deals with it. But now, I’m pondering a career where I get paid to drag my little sister around the world, sample the candy she swears is ‘the best thing ever,’ and adjust my plans according to the rise and fall of her blood sugar levels. Somewhere between the sugar highs and giggles, I found my favorite plan.

If adulthood ever tries to make her boring, I’ll descend from the heavens and handle this— with water balloon sneak attacks, endless car karaoke, and dance-offs that’ll burn calories and dignity. 🤣

Faye

I discovered a gem from Thailand who matches my essence,
my soul in another form,
if I had a director, lighting crew, and divine intervention.

And yes, she takes the crown in my book.

She’s the kind of realness
that makes effortless magnetism
look like a piece of cake.

A Story That Ends Where It Begin

I’m learning Thai for love,
so my brain is a hostage, and my heart is the kidnapper.

Love didn’t just change my mind,
it hacked my entire operating system.

When my brain starts working again,
I’ll be composing heartbreak ballads,
but swearing like a taxi driver in rush hour.

Who’s in charge here—
Cupid, a drunk screenwriter, or my horoscope?

The answer was in the first line all along.

When My Soul Recognized You Before My Eyes Could

On quiet days, I disappear like common sense in a group project (introvert). Other days, I thrive on people's energy—like every friend I make is proof that the multiverse is real, and I’m just meeting alternate versions of myself. Some days, as an ambivert, I dance between solitude and the warmth of others, as if they were never separate. Surrounded by faces, every face is a mirror, yet never the whole of me.

I don’t just listen; I spot red flags like I’m Sherlock Holmes, finding drama that people thought they could cover with a band-aid and some hope. To talk is to express. To listen is to uncover. And sometimes, what you uncover is that they were the villain all along. I don’t do coffee dates because, well, I’m not a free therapist. The client, in denial, seeks connection, yet unknowingly lays their subconscious bare, like a patient on an operating table.

And then you appeared...
Like a flower blooming at the right moment.

And I went quiet.

Mostly because I was baffled.

How?

How can you be both:
My Zen Master...
And the reason I need a mental health retreat in Thailand? 🤭

A Language Older Than Words, Felt Rather Than Heard

I enjoy the feeling
of sipping warm coffee
on a cool morning;
a soft warmth
that touches the senses,
making it feel like home.

Just as I was lost
in my research,
I caught sight of you,
and my gaze softened
into a smile.
That moment spoke louder
than words ever could.

A gaze is never just a gaze.
Radiance is not recognized by the eyes,
but by the soul—and yours
lights up the room effortlessly.

You feel like a love story.
Thailand feels like a love letter
I haven’t read yet.

My love life and my travel plans
are now holding hands. 🤭

My heart is speaking,
and my eyes are translating.

I’m crying,
but these tears write poetry on my cheeks—
lyrics in a melody only the soul can hear.

Freedom arrives like a quiet song,
where joy and melancholy
hold hands like childhood sweethearts. 🤍🕊️🎶

 

The Elevator That Knew Too Much

I chill with people almost half my age. They bring the youth; I bring the illusion of eternal youth. Either way, good genetics let me get away with it.

Back when I was an analyst at JPMorgan Chase, every elevator conspired to ditch me, leaving me stranded with a model who looked like she’d meant to walk a runway, not an office hallway.

Before anything else, she needed to know what to call her new elevator buddy. Then, like a scammer verifying my senior discount, my age.

When she found out, she looked at me like I’d just embezzled millions and said, “WHAT?! You can get away with it!”

That was the exact second I knew—hacking the biological clock wasn’t just luck; it was a crime so next-level, even my high school photos look older than me. 🤭

Thai: A Script My Heart Already Reads

Learning Thai because my dear friend from high school and I are plotting a Thailand adventure—just in case she pulls a disappearing act in Bangkok and I wake up on a boat with a guy named Uncle Pong. At the very least, I’d like to know whether I’m being sold or adopted. 🤣

Welp, no hiding it—we’re just two fools considering crossing borders for love. This will either be the most romantic thing we ever do or the most delusional. No in-between. ✈️

 

Love is both delightful and dangerous.
Both reckless and wise.

Love is a paradox.
It does not follow logic—
it destroys logic.

It is sweet as honey.
Yet it burns like fire.

It makes you lose yourself...
Only to find yourself anew.

A Series of Doors

"If Yesterday Stood Before You, What Would You Do?" 

If you had sixty borrowed seconds

to meet someone from the past,
who would it be and why?

I’d journey through time
to meet the one who gave me up in favor of my two brothers.

I’ll gently touch her face,
smile, and say,
"Thank you."

Then, I’ll drop a dance move
like I’m Lisa from BlackPink,
and evaporate like magic.

I wouldn’t just visit the past—
I’d rewrite its emotional script.
With a dramatic exit.

That, my friend,
is how you haunt it.
Instead of letting it haunt you. 😉

"The Unspoken Apology"

My biological father studied my face before saying, ‘Why didn’t you blame me?'

"Why I Never Answered—Until Now"

I held this question for years. Untouched, like a letter never opened. Why? Because a child is not born to justify a parent's choices. The blame was never mine to carry. 

I entered this world with a pacifier, not a therapist’s degree!

"Where Seriousness Slips on a Banana Peel"

In my world, seriousness is a locked door, and non-seriousness is kicking it down with style. Everything drifts—like clouds, thoughts, and my ability to act like an adult. And with that, seriousness blocks me, deletes our chat, and starts a new life in Bali. It doesn’t argue. It doesn’t fight. It just quits like me after one push-up. 🤭

 

"I won’t just love you in your darkest times—I’ll help you find the light in them."

I salute you, Elyza, may you always roast me with precision and love.

The Never-Ending Storyteller

My ever-charming sister doesn’t just tell stories—
she starts one, and suddenly,
it’s next week.

They last so long,
even Tolkien would raise a white flag, muttering,
‘I’m off to drink ale with the dwarves.’

By the time she stops for air,
you’ll have wrinkles,
a senior discount,
and a newfound obsession with earplugs.

With a laugh I shouldn’t be having,
I shut my laptop like a kid who Googled the unholy.
Time to get lost in the joy of my tiny mischief-maker.

Laughing myself to the grave,
only to be resurrected with,
‘Ate Iya… you love me, right?
So, snacks?’

 

When Elyza Does Math, Her Classmates Call for Backup

She breezes through math like she came out of the womb holding an abacus.
If the problem’s complex, her brain operates at 200 IQ.
If it’s easy, she tosses it out like a leftover sandwich.

I tossed her homework like a grenade in a movie scene.

I stepped away from teaching her when I realized—she’s an eagle,
born to hunt and dominate.

Box her in, and she becomes a bewildered goldfish,
blinking, asking, 'Wait, I’m supposed to think?’

 

Roast Me Like You Love Me

I let her debate me like we’re in the Supreme Court,
then watched her cry as if I were the villain, orchestrating her downfall.

I let her explain a show I’ll never watch,
and out of nowhere—she burst into song like we weren’t mid-sentence,
and danced as if my grief were just part of the décor.

I let her roast me,
simply because she’s my sister,
and I love her like Sherlock loves Watson,
like SpongeBob loves Krabby Patties.

A Soft Smile at What Was, Without Regret

There comes a time when those we once held close become guest stars in a show we’ve outgrown, not because I chose to change, but because the script no longer calls for us in the same scene. 

A friendship, once a fire, now rests in the 'Remember when?' folder. A love that burned bright is now a low-power nightlight of wisdom, belly-aching laughter, and buttered popcorn.

Who would have thought popcorn could be the emotional savior of love?

Rooftop Musings

I find refuge on rooftops, where even the air glances at the world's chaos and said, 'Nope, not my problem.' They say zombies don’t climb, but my bat and I aren’t in the business of blind trust. After all, my IQ is for solving problems, not for being the secret ingredient in zombie stew.

Ready for a laid-back day—strolling, philosophical banter with my partners in crime, and fries to keep the brain cells from going on strike. Overthinking? Not today, Satan.

Berchael

He’s So Chill, Frosty Wants His Secrets

I once worked to eat. Now, my purpose has shifted—so my younger, strangely taller brother, sharp as a scalpel and steady as a heartbeat, won’t have to Google ‘appendix or appendix?’

A boy who could blow up but just breathes. Who could fall apart but stands whole, smiling. Who could argue but just sips his drink. He moves beyond reaction—seeing what others don’t: a high schooler with a black belt in skill and a monk in spirit.

You can’t teach that. Power is knowing when not to strike. 💎

Mac, Raj, and Iya: You Didn’t See This Coming

Here we are, oozing Victorian charm, one misplaced glove from a melodramatic love triangle. And with that, the ink spills, chaos follows—Mac ignites warmth, Raj fuels the storm, and I make sure both burn just for kicks.

If knowledge had a physical form, it would wear glasses, drink black coffee, and be named Mac. 

If you try to predict Iya, congratulations, you’ve already failed. 

Raj is the kind of fire that doesn’t burn down the house—it just makes you question why the house exists in the first place. 

⚡ Raj: The Lightning Bolt

Love isn’t something you’ll understand until you master freedom.

People chase love without knowing themselves. They crave it, beg for it, suffer for it—why? Because they are prisoners, and they think love will set them free. But a caged heart cannot love. It can only cling.

Love is like ice cream. Everyone wants it, everyone thinks they need it to be happy. But if you don’t know how to enjoy life without ice cream, guess what? You’ll keep eating it even when your stomach hurts. You’ll cry when you don’t have it, and you’ll chase it like a crazy person. That’s not love—that’s addiction.

Now, if you already know how to have fun, run around, play, and be happy all by yourself… then when someone comes and says, ‘Hey, want some ice cream?’ you’ll smile and say, ‘Sure, but I don’t need it.’ That’s love! Not because you’re hungry, but because you want to share something nice with someone.

But never, ever let anyone tell you that you need ice cream to be happy. That’s a scam!

So remember, when you grow up and someone says, ‘If you love me, you won’t leave me,’ just smile and say, ‘Dude, are you trying to hold a kite or choke it?’

If you think love is about possession, congrats—you’ve just invented emotional hostage-taking.

 

🎭 Iya: The Playful Phantom

Chillin’ under the stars, up here on the rooftop, moonlight’s got me. The breeze dances through the night, like it’s got its own rhythm, and we’re vibing. I’m over here, sipping chamomile tea embodying the very essence of chill. While the world stresses over love, I’m mastering the art of effortless coolness.

Freedom, my friend, is always beautiful.

Here’s the secret, you poetic kiddo: you don’t need to trap the sun to get a tan.

Some people enter your life like a sunrise, turning everything golden. Then, just like the sun, they ghost you—Cinderella style.

Hindi mo kayang hulihin ang araw, pero iniwan niya ang init sa puso mo.

The paradox is beautiful: You don’t need to capture the moment; the moment has already captured you. 💗

 

🧠 Mac: The Brain

Raj’s words bloom like a lotus in the silent pond:
“Love isn’t the ice cream; it’s the freedom to share it.”
Iya chuckles with mischief,
“Stop holding on; the moment’s grip’s stronger than your diet.”
One teaches love as freedom,
the other teaches freedom as love.
Two hearts embracing the paradox:
Freedom and love cannot exist without each other
like the moon and the stars, like night and day.
Love without freedom suffocates, and freedom without love is hollow.

Firelit Confessions 🔥

I see a writer who does not just write, she paints with words.

She weaves humor with depth, like a magician who makes the audience laugh, only for them to realize later that they are also crying. That is rare.

The ability to turn a rooftop into the Maldives with just imagination and the wind? That is the mark of someone who has mastered the art of presence.

Many travel the world yet remain empty.

But her?

She can sit in an ordinary place and turn it into an adventure simply because she decides it is one.
That, my dear, is something no money can buy.

People talk about rare wisdom as if it is locked away in ancient books or whispered in secret codes.

But the truth?

Rare wisdom is only rare because so few are willing to see it.

But her?

She sees it.

And that is why her words glow.
Not because they are perfect,
but because they are alive.

 

You, Mac, are my best friend, soul mate, and partner-in-crime—if this isn’t destiny slapping me in the face, I don’t know what is! 😂

You’ve unlocked a Scorpio’s softer side, just like a Pisces does.

"Two free souls, dancing like the wind and the sea—complementing, not completing."

Some souls act like a sad, lonely half-sandwich, waiting for their other slice. No, darling.
Love isn’t two wobbly halves hoping the butter holds them together— It’s two whole sandwiches, both confident, but one’s acting like the fries were always theirs. 😂 And when two whole sandwiches meet? You can call it a masterpiece in the making.

A boss-level romance is when you’re already a limited edition masterpiece. Then another masterpiece walks in, and now you’re both the Mona Lisa… sharing a stolen kiss. You don’t need each other, but damn—together, the gallery just got an upgrade. Like wine and cheese, making things richer, better, and instant sosyal level. Love isn’t “you complete me.” It’s “I was already complete, but wow, you make the adventure even better.” 🍷💫

"Happy Birthday to My First Love—My Favorite Plot Twist"

Nagpapahangin sa rooftop, feeling Maldives, minus the ocean, the sand, and the ‘Are you sure you don’t want the $5,000 massage?’ Who needs a tropical vacation when you have a rooftop and pure delusion?

So, I hit that call button today, but I swear, it felt like I was the one caught off guard. Hahaha! I panicked and hung up like I was the one being pranked. Feeling ko ako pa ‘yung tanga. But hey, joke lang! Because I’m too cool to be this awkward. 😅

But then I imagine something else—something a little quieter, a little gentler.

Imagine—we’re in a peaceful garden, the breeze gently swaying the leaves, a shared sip, an unspoken connection. I’m smiling because life’s funnier when you’re in it. In that fleeting moment, you saved my life just by being you.

Magistrum lucem petii, Sed in umbris, Vidi me ipsam flammam esse

Basta may rhythm, kahit walang sense, magsusulat ako. Hit play, and I’m Shakespeare, minus the logic. Wala naman kinalaman si Shakespeare sa sinulat ko, pero nandiyan siya for the drama. Ano kayang music ang papakinggan ko habang nagsusulat ng love letter? Baka Roman Empire anthem na lang, para may dramatic entrance ang mga feelings ko. 🤭😂🎧

Today, I find myself laughing out loud.
Change doesn’t announce itself. One day, you just wake up different. My world didn’t flip; it melted into the kind of love you only dream of. That day, I met my mentor... and realized I’d been doing life all wrong.

Life was a script I never questioned—just a blindfolded goldfish swimming in circles. Ha! Joke’s on me.

My mentor, like a master, gently lifted the blindfold. For the first time, I saw the world—alive, glowing, magical. The sun’s rays, once distant, were now mine. It was like waking up from a long sleep, and suddenly, beauty wasn’t just what I saw, but what I felt.

Eyes can only show you so much. Close them, and you’ll see even more.

He showed me the child within, buried under my “adulting” skills.
Here I stand, blinking, realizing I’ve worn the wrong glasses all along. I see life, people, my inner child… probably rolling their eyes. And I laugh... because what else do you do when you’re the joke?

I sought a mentor for wisdom. He removed my blindfold.
Imagine tasting color. Yeah, that’s the woke-up-and-smelled-the-coffee moment.

The real twist? The master wasn’t him. It was me—hiding in plain sight.😙

I’m the Wild Card in a Game of Fire, Wind, and Genius Friends

"Bet the Pebbles Are Debating Who's the Real Drama Queen—Fire, Wind, or Me" 😂

The sky sighs its last sweet goodbye in cotton candy hues, while I sit on pebbles that never signed up to be my chair. The fire stretches for an embrace, only for the wind to pull it back—love’s tragic like that. Third-wheeling heartbreak like it’s my specialty, while the pebbles side-eye the fire and wind like, ‘Break up or don’t, we’re tired.’

Fire’s about love, wind’s about drama, and I’m just here, pretending I’m not fueling the fire.

The sun is sighing, the fire is yearning, the wind is a professional homewrecker. Here I am, dramatically third-wheeling the elements. 

"Noodles Are Just Noodles Until I Bring the Sauce"🤣

I’m best friends with two geniuses. I’m convinced they only keep me around for comedic relief—because, without contrast, how would they know they’re geniuses?

One can talk his way out of anything, the other is a walking supercomputer. I’m starting to think I’m the glitch.

Raj could argue his way out of jail, Mac’s got a spaceship; I’m just here, wondering why I’m in jail. 

I’m not sure how to put this, but I’m scared of losing them. For the first time in my life, the weight of it feels… let’s just say even aliens would be jealous.

I’ve let go of people faster than I let go of my diet plans. But this? This is something else. They’ve pulled things from me I didn’t know were there, and now losing it all is terrifying.

Since drama’s not my vibe, I’ll just let them do their thing.
Have a blast, kiddos. 💖💗

 

I Dance Like I’m Trying to Catch a Bus

Having a TED Talk with myself, but with a beat drop.

The perfect song for when I’m lying in bed like a dead fish, staring into the abyss, and the only thing staring back is an empty bag of chips, yet somehow, I’m vibing because the beat is absolute fire. One second, I’m a lifeless fish, next second my ADHD is like, ‘Wanna dance?’ 😎💃

So, I hit the club with my office partner-in-crime, thinking it’s gonna be wild. And then, out of nowhere, a stranger swoops in and asks me to dance. I danced my way straight to the exit. Back in the dinosaur days, I thought socializing was cool. Now, I only talk to pizza delivery guys. 🤭