The Count of Monte Cristo has Died

There was this girl who helped put me back in my tracks a few years ago. No, this isn’t my ex or the Japanese girl I used to talk about.

Anyway, this girl once told me that my anger towards my father is going to consume me one day. She said that revenge isn’t going to solve anything, and it isn’t going to bring me closer to what I want. She also told me that if I successfully delivered suffering, people would seek revenge on me. The cycle would only continue.

I ignored her advice for the longest. From 2009 to 2014, that anger towards my father was what kept me going. I wanted to go abroad, learn all the skills needed to deliver as much suffering as I possibly could, earn staggering amounts of money, change my name and appearance, garner influence, and come back as someone else.

I wanted to be the Count of Monte Cristo. He was my role model for executing the perfect revenge. I would imagine myself laughing at my father while he polished my shoes. It was the sense of power over someone that got me going. I loved the idea of being better than my father. I wanted to show him that he amounted to nothing.

Continue reading “The Count of Monte Cristo has Died”

God is not a Good Excuse


I’m a Buddhist, and many people know this. Even my father knows this. He seems to have a habit of making arguments that just sound really stupid. I’ll talk about that soon, and I promise to keep this post on topic as much as I possibly can, since I have a tendency to deviate.

A few days ago, I had a talk with my tall-hairy-Italian friend (you know who you are) about my father. And I shall now tell you what I told my friend. As I said from the start, I am a Buddhist, and I have a very open mind to many things (as should everybody else). I have no qualms about any religion. Although, when the people who practice it step over the line, well…

I’m not sure if I wrote this in my blog; my father is now a Born Again Christian. He told me this when I had to pay my respects to a relative who passed away this year. So, anyway. For some reason, he is now much more eager to convert me back to Christianity. Oh, the things we discussed that day. He was so silly and fallacious, quite funny even when you dissect the structures of his arguments. Oops, off topic again. Continue reading “God is not a Good Excuse”

ADMU, Will You Accept Me?


At around September of 2011, I made a very important decision in my academic life. I decided that I was going to transfer to Ateneo de Manila University (ADMU). If you want to know the reasons why I decided to transfer out of DLSU, search my blog for the Reasons Why I Hate DLSU-M series. That should clear up some questions. If not, you can leave your questions at the comment section below. :)

So back to ADMU.

I got my application for transferee and application for scholarship from ADMU, and all that was left to do was to study for the Ateneo College Entrance Test (ACET). I didn’t study for it right away because my ACET was set in January; so I delayed my ACET tutorial ’til November.

Come November, and my workload had been doubled. November was practically like hell month for me because final papers, projects, videos and tests were piling in. During that month, I had my tutorial at the AHEAD Katipunan branch (which, by the way, is the best place to study for any college entrance test) while DLSU was churning out tests, papers and etc. Continue reading “ADMU, Will You Accept Me?”

The Difference between My Grandfather, my Father and Me

Not many or even none of you know that my father is an extremely intelligent person. He was the top if his batch from the primary to secondary school. He got honors in every subject; there wasn’t an academic event that he didn’t win a position in. He was the valedictorian in his school, which also means he gave the graduation speech etc.

When he got into a university (the name of the university escapes me), he was at the top of all his classes. He paid his tuition by tutoring his fellow students. He then graduated as magna cum laude with a degree in mechanical engineering. Right after his graduation he was offered a job a company (which name I will not disclose). Years after, he would be the General Manager of a certain department of that multi-international company.

My father, however, is nothing compared to my grandfather, or so I’ve been told. Continue reading “The Difference between My Grandfather, my Father and Me”

Being Father Dependent

It’s been over two years since my father left this family. Yet he’s still playing a big role in decision-making, mainly because he’s the man with the money. Yes, he’s the one that keeps me and my mom alive. Not in a religious-I-love-you kind of sense, more like I-own-your-ass kind of sense.

To be controlled by a person, who I wish were dead, is just a fantastic feeling. I can’t even make decisions for myself. I ALWAYS have to ask permission from him when I need to spend on something (something that I NEED of course).

Here’s an example.

I just got off the phone with my father. I complained to him that I needed the Kindle because I needed it for school (which is true, I’m not lying. A Kindle is a student’s greatest technological portable asset, next to the laptop and cellphone). Then he tells me to be patient. The problem is, he promised me I’d get it on the first week of October… guess what day it is now.

He tells me to be patient. This pissed me off, but if I told him off, he would’ve won. So I kept silent. I told him that I would need an account for the Kindle so I could buy the books that I needed. He tells me to use my mom’s credit card instead of his. Remember, this is the man who took off with all the money, leaving us barely with any, then he tells me that I should let my mom pay for my books. Great logic, “father”.

Most of you have no idea what it feels like to be constrained by a parent who ALREADY left. I thought I would feel a bit liberated, but no. My father has still got me by the balls; he could cut off my education if he felt like it (I guess that’s one of the reasons why I’m such a workaholic ie. showing that $1,000++ per trimester isn’t wasted because I’m on the honour roll).

Another example.

Each time I’m on the honour roll, he tells my mother “Does he get a discount [on tuition]?”. My mother congratulates me, hugs me, kisses me and so on. My father thinks of the stupidest thing, money. Yeah, “dad”, I fucking feel your love all right.

I wish I wasn’t so powerless. A pathetic piece of crap that can’t stand up to his father that controls his family through money.

PS. I know, some people would consider me lucky because most fathers wouldn’t even support their family after they left. But, I believe he’s only doing this to avoid jail time, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up.