Dreams Come True, They Do: Westlife in Manila Gravity Concert 2011

Everyone knows how huge a Westlife fan I am. I hold the title of being the biggest Westlifer back in grade school, saving up every cent I can to buy another cassette tape (cassette!) of then 5-piece Irish lads that stole my heart since Fool Again. I consider Mark Michael Patrick Verdon Feehily as my first love, being the first man I wrote love notes for when I was in grade 4.

I missed two Westlife in Manila concerts already because of typical reasons: (1) I was too young to attend a concert alone; and (2) the money I'll spend for the ticket is enough to feed me for a week. I was young and unable to produce money to buy concert tickets, so boo-hoo.

SOOOOOOO... When I finally got a job and enough money on my own to purchase tickets, I splurged. Like splurge, big time. I rewarded myself with concerts. And I have said in this blog before, I am willing to do anything for Westlife. I am so not gonna miss the next time they'd be here. I mean, if I have to sell a kidney or put my iPod on a pawnshop or go without eating for a week, I will.

Why? Because these boys are an integral part of my life. Their music was there when my mom went abroad, when my grandma died, when I get reprimanded at school, when I first had a real, tangible, crush (aside from Mark Feehily), even during my first real heartbreak. They're my childhood heroes, and they still are--even after ten years.

I've spent half of my life with these boys, memorizing their bio (full names, birthdays, height, siblings... ask me!), tracking their love lives (and I'm happy how they ended up with their long-time girlfriends! Well, except for Mark, who is now happy with his boyfriend), watching out for new album releases, and, of course, growing up with their music.

Upon learning that Westlife's gonna visit Manila again, I was stoked. Good thing I just got a job when it was announced, so I didn't actually have to sell a kidney or my iPod to get a ticket. I saved up for it like hell. Even my manager knows about it and made sure he'll credit my OT pay in time for my ticket reservation. I didn't settle for a Gen Ad ticket or Upper Box or anything less that would require me binoculars to see my boys. I got a Lower Box Ticket. A LOWER BOX TICKET that cost me the amount of a month's allowance back in college. This is just a fantasy five to ten years ago.

Hell yeah, Westlife.

We were able to see Westlife THIS. FREAKIN. CLOSE.

And I don't care about how much I paid for the ticket. The first song in the setlist, When You're Lookin' Like That is already worth the price. Heck, just seeing my boys is already worth it. Now I understand why some people cry as they watch their favorite singers on concerts (like Hannah Montana and MJ fans do), because I did. I sure as hell did. Those were tears of joy, for finally seeing in person the lads that inspired me for the longest time and I sure as hell showed how much I love them with every scream, with every part of the lyrics that I sing along to, and sometimes, even with just sitting and realizing how good they still are and admiring at how they managed to stay when everyone else broke up. And not to mention they still look like how they did thirteen freakin' years ago!

Sometimes during the concert I'll just sit down and watch them perform, and cry. CRY. Heck, I stare at them and think: these are the boys that I've been wanting to see since the year 2000 and now they are performing in front of me. It was so surreal. My 10-year old self would have been so elated upon knowing that 10 years later, she'll finally get to attend a Westlife concert.

And just like how the lyrics for Moments go, "If I die tonight, I'd go with no regrets". With this? HECK! I've been caught in THE Nicky Byrne's camera!:




Man, I'm just so happy. I'm just so happy that I finally saw these boys in flesh and became a part of the crowd that overwhelmed them with the love they received because they deserve it. No one else can play my life's soundtrack like Westlife does.

Mark, Nicky, Shane, Kian, and even Brian--- you'll always be the boys I love. You know what, I even consider naming my future son after you guys. That's how special you have become to me. Thank you for simply being there when no one else was. Thank you for staying strong when everyone else were breaking up. Thank you for your love for us that sustained your relationship with each other and the love for the music that you make. Thank you, lads.

And it's like flying without wings, 'cause you're my special thing...

Until next time, lads. I love you to bits. My kids will listen to your songs in the future. ♥

Where the skies are blue, I'll see you once again...

501 days and yet you think I'm joking.

With all the tears and heartbreak, do you think I would have lasted this long if I am?

501 heart-pumpin'-soul-crushin' days. But I still wouldn't have had it any other way. :)

songs for some purpose

Happiness in four minutes: Play this and imagine the best day you can ever remember. ♥



If you want to go emo, but promised to keep your dignity:






To keep yourself awake: Play this video and imagine yourself in the moshpit. Aaaaand bam! "Alive at Red Rocks" can't be more appropriate for this one.

that one salute beats them all.

And so tonight it ends. The wondering how the new hire dude as old as I am looks like. We even boarded the elevator together and he opened the door for me.

Still nothing compared to that moment you first met me in the eyes. That smile. The slight raise of an eyebrow. That salute. I smile as I type this and am amazed at how I can still recall.

Haba ng buhok mo sir.

I may not remember when this was shot, but it doesn't mean it can't tell of a good story

I can hardly remember what part of the song this was.

But I can tell you this: I spent an entire week of struggling with my inner demon before this photo was shot.

My heart just wasn't in it. I lost all love for the ministry He has given me.

I lost the choreography I have prepared as the chorus plays. I tried to recall and do things on my own. I lost hope. I wanted to quit.

Then Someone held my hand, lifted my face, and danced with me. His presence was overwhelming that tears started to fall down on my face as my heart dances with His.

I was reminded that I was never alone. He was there, from the first beat of the intro to the last part of the choreo.

My Master Choreographer. My One and Only Audience.

He dared me to move. I did. And I couldn't be happier that I have done so.

The best dance for the Most High God. Soli Deo Gloria. ♥

I am using my so-called billable hours writing this blog post instead of doing something that would be beneficial to the organization I work for. That is exactly the reason why I am writing this blog post.

I've been into this company for three months already. In those three months I feel like I've aged twice, both mentally and physically, what now with these pimples on my forehead and veins on my hands that weren't existent at the start of the year. I've gained some, lost much, and am trying to evaluate what I have retained.

In three months.

This job is slowly killing every aspect of my life. Facebook is the only social life I have now. I spend half of a day at the office and the other half sleeping. As in wala na talaga akong buhay. My body clock is busted. Minsan tumatawa ako na "good morning" ang bati sa akin ng guards, yun pala morning na talaga. My brain cells are slowly being depleted. My sanity is being washed away. Buti pa yung Smurfs sa Smurfs' Village account ko, may variety sa work. Nakakasawa. Luwas on Mondays. Office. Uwi sa Dorm. Tulog. Gising. Gayak. Office. Next day. Uwi sa Dorm. Tulog. Repeat til fade.

Hindi ko alam kung nag-iinarte lang ako ngayon kasi first job ko to (technically) at lahat ng trabaho sa big, bad, and all things evil na corporate world e ganito naman talaga lalo na pag entry level.

Pero masama ba kung ikasasakit ng loob kong alienated ako sa trabaho ko? Tipong 'di ko talaga alam kung ano ang ginagawa ko dito. Kung may pakinabang ba talaga ako. Or if I am getting my education's worth. Or even my worth as a mortal.

Pero hindi ko na kasi alam kung ano dapat kong maramdaman e. Sa sobrang dami ng gusto kong ibulalas di ko na alam kung saan ko sisimulan. Kung magagalit ako, hindi ko alam kung kanino. Kanina umiyak ako ng todo, pero hindi ko ma-pinpoint kung bakit.


Pagod na ako. Gusto ko ng variety. Gusto ko ng something new. Out of the ordinary. Gusto kong mamundok, pumunta sa lugar na walang internet access at signal. Gusto kong madampian ng hangin ang mukha ko. Yung tipo ng lugar na naiimagine mo kapag recollection nung grade school. Gusto kong pumunta sa ganoong lugar. Kahit three days lang. Wala na akong pakialam sa sweldo. O kahit sa trabaho mismo.

Shet nasabi ko yon.

If there's something those three months taught me, it's the realization that there IS something worse than a heartbreak.

At the very least, you know why you cry during a heartbreak. Should there be blame, it's either you or the other party (hence, 'it's not you, it's me'). You know you're not the only person who got hurt. You know that crying over such an issue is not a silly thing to do because every person experienced that too at some point in their lives.

Most importantly, when your heart is broken, you know that at one point, that love was all you ever wanted. For that you were ready to risk anything, even the fact that it's possible for you to experience heartbreak in the future.

A heartbreak indicates that you felt like flying some time in the past. You were happy. You have been happy. Maybe even while you are mending a broken heart, you are still happy, happy that you got to experience all those things that only loving can make you feel.

This one's different. Entirely different. For one, this job requires kissing corporate asses for someone to get to the top. And fly, maybe.

Go ahead, put yourself in my geddemfrustrated shoes.

Then walk a mile in this job and you'll know what I mean.

A friend and I talking after the dance ministry evaluation:

Friend: Grabe, ang dami kong adlib kanina sa sayaw ko!
Me: Haha! Ako, hindi nag-adlib... natulala na lang.
D (butts into the conversation): O? Hindi ko naman napansin. :)

My 2009 self would have been so happy she'll write a lengthy blog post about this and even ponder deeply on what he said for days.