Wednesday, December 24, 2008


So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be.
And on this day we hope for
What we still can't see.

It's up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There's so much to be thankful for.

It's up to us to be the change
And even though this world needs so much more
There's so much to be thankful for.

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Saturday, December 06, 2008

(What Have You Done Today To Make You Feel) Proud

"I step out of the ordinary
I can feel my soul ascending
I am on my way
Can't stop me now
And you can do the same"

I find it queer (redundancy aside) that in my 22 years of existence, never have I participated, engaged, witnessed, nor get involved, in *our annual pride parade.

Minus the first two years where I am still unable to walk and the next 12 years of undefined identity, that left me with 8 missed opportunities of celebrating and professing my pride with my sexuality and personal identity.

I asked myself, am I not proud of the person that I have become?

I could say that I'm not the typical confused man. At an early age, I already knew what I wanted to achieve and what I wanted to become.

I had my first relations at the age of 16, became exposed to the complicated queer life at 17, and successfully managed my first committed relationship at 18. Bed was my niche even before Bed became Bed, and I witnessed how Government became the Government that was now.

This premature exposure, however, doesn't come without a price. After a couple of years of countless boozing, whoring and experimenting, I became a little tired of that usual scene.

I stayed out of it for quite a while. I nurtured committed relations without the frills and fuzz and the complications of my previous juvenile immaturities. I drove myself out from the fast lane. I held on to my peace.

There are moments when I still question myself if this quiescent life is the kind of life that I really wanted. Whether I'm happy with my existence.
Or if I'm proud of the life that I'm living.

I may not have stepped out of the ordinary just yet but there's one thing in me that holds true.


I take pride in my work, in my actions, and in my words. I take pride in my deeds, in my promises, and in my thoughts. I take pride in my sexuality, in my identity, and in my personal choices. I take pride in the life that I chose to live. And I take pride in the actions that pave the way for becoming the person that I am now.

I may not have been there in the parade wearing costumes and wings and masks. I may not have been there organizing the floats, or arranging the crowd. And definitely not there sashaying with nothing on but my jockstraps (not that I have any) and heels.

But yes, I am proud.

And no one can stop me now.

And you, what have you done today to make you feel proud?

Happy Pride Day, Everyone!

*Images from Showtime's Queer as Folk.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Dare You To Move

It seems as if if we're ever given a chance to become somebody else, all of us would have definitely something in mind.

At least that is what each of my colleagues have been trying to confirm.

I didn't expect, however, that their answers would neither involve becoming rich or becoming famous as I have previously thought.

For instance, one of my friends wanted to become a better mother, while the other, a better provider for his family. The other guy wanted to become a rock star while the next guy, a CNN reporter.

As for me, I wanted to become an Olympic gymnast, a diver, or a writer, whichever sounds more facetious.

Just kidding.

I couldn't help but wonder why people tend to exist and live in a world that does not afford them the fulfilment of their desires. Why haven't they pursue their dreams, actualize their vision, and realize their Personal Legends?

I guess it’s the convenience of the present, the fears of the unknown, or the complacency of the right now that prevents them from doing so, for now, I could only guess.

I spent a few minutes asking myself the previous question: if I could be somebody else, who would I want to become?

And then it occurred to me. When I was younger I thought that in becoming filthy rich I could attain happiness, or in extreme physical perfection I could find true love, or in extreme success I could find contentment.

But at 22, I definitely know what I actually longed for.

And that is wisdom.

I might have done several mistakes in my past and He knows that I've been burned several times, but if there's something I'm really thankful for, it's for the wisdom that I have gathered throughout the ages. I might have been a fool several times in my past, but in that foolishness I seem to have found myself. And for that I'll be thankful.

Then I was reminded of this message an old friend sent me and I have kept in my inbox for the longest time:

"Never let the things you want...

Make you forget the things you already have."

And suddenly, this too, has passed.

*Images from postsecret and flickr.

Monday, November 17, 2008

Luminescence of Darkness

Around us fear, descending
Darkness of fear above
And in my heart how deep unending
Ache of love!

I’ve been having these intense migraines recently. And no, they’re not just in my head. They’re real and they’re no less than excruciating. At times I could feel my head throbbing in sync with my heartbeat, it’s as if something in my skull is about to burst, and it’ll leave me unconscious, in coma, or in my deathbed.

My intensivist, who diagnosed me as having these tension-type headaches, gave me prn (as necessary) medications every time I’m in such pain, to which I am fully compliant. However, as tolerance sets in, the same dose which used to be effective no longer affords relief when I take it now. And as I take more of them pills, the nasty side effects tend to predominate. Making me sedated, nauseated, vertiginous, and short of breath inasmuch than being painless.

I was advised on having a cranial CT scan once they recur, and I have long been planning on undergoing one but…

It has been exactly one year since I started my professional career in healthcare. Everyday, patients come into our beds, and they go, and for us, every other patient that comes in is nothing more than another opportunity for learning. Every body is a living piece of learning apparatus. Every heart beat a chance of learning about cardiac murmurs. Every lung an opportunity of learning roentgenographic interpretations. Every patient history a chance of discovering a part of themselves. And every patient interview a chance of gaining their most elusive trust.

Looking back on the thousand of patient histories I have in my recently emptied locker, I couldn’t help but wonder what made me different from the rest of these patients seemingly lying on their own deathbeds.

I experience the same chest pain. I do experience the same fatigue. I have had the same shortness of breath. And now I have the same headaches.

A month ago, I admitted one of our institution’s most b
rilliant Hematologist-Oncologist whose chief complaint was a mere headache. She had had a tumor excised a year ago but it recurred again, this time, more aggressive and malignant. She no longer has that same spunk back when we used to join her in the rounds. She’s lying there, almost in the brink of death, fighting against the disease she strived so hard to conquer. At times I’m left with nothing to say but maybe, now, the joke was on her.

Her headache, a malignant anaplastic astrocytoma. The other guy’s chest pain, a triple vessel Coronary Artery Disease. That lady’s bloatedness, a leaking Abdominal Aortic Aneurysm. That man’s difficulty of swallowing, anaplastic thyroid carcinoma.

And my headaches? It’s better that I know no further.

They say that knowledge is power. That the more you know about life, the more equipped you’ll become in conquering life’s challenges day in and day out.

Or is it really better that we know everything?

I know that I have to eventually discover what the hell is wrong with my head but for now, let me find solace in the uncertainty. Spare me the diagnosis and let me cope with the fear in my own terms.

There are so many things we have to know. We have to know we have what it takes. We have to know how to take care of our patients... and how to take care of each other. Eventually, we even have to figure out how to take care of ourselves.

As surgeons we have to be in the know. But as human beings, sometimes it's better to stay in the dark, because in the dark there may be fear, but there's also hope.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Everybody's Changing

No dave, I haven’t given up on writing… yet.

It’s been six months since my last actual post, and ever since I’ve left, it feels as if things haven’t really changed at all. I’m still me. The quasi-philosophical, self-absorbed, self-proclaimed intellectual who believe that I still am capable of greatness. The dreamer, who, despite having all the means of achieving my ambitions, opt to exist in the status quo. The fighter who keeps on preparing for my battles but quivers with fear upon the sight of my enemies. And the lover who, uhm, well… loves everyone.

But still, a man with an incredible heart.

I’m keeping this entry short, but this I assure you, my readers, old and new alike, that I, just like the old me, will be here to stay.

And yes, I’m definitely back.

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

Dust In The Wind

Don't hang on, nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky.

It slips away, and all your money won't another minute buy.

Dust in the wind, all we are is dust in the wind.

Dust in the wind, everything is dust in the wind.


Thank you for waiting.

Now, I'm back.

Monday, June 09, 2008

Song For The Lonely

Today, I guess, is my birthday!

Happy Birthday, Ruff.

Saturday, May 24, 2008

Always Come Back To Your Love

Can we really get over our first loves?

I was a freshman college then and love (or sex, for that matter) is something extremely unbeknownst to me.

I told *him (a very good friend) that I’m going to get my cherry popped by the time I finish my first year of college.

And surprisingly, it did happen.

Even more surprising, I did it with him (okay, okay, I’m a whore).

And it was not a spur-of-the-moment thing. It happened again. And again and again.

I was confused as hell back then because that was my first serious relationship with a person of the same sex. Career changes made it impossible for us to pursue that what might-have-been a perfect relation.

We parted ways and moved on. But recently, thoughts of him haunt me during my cold solitary nights. After four years, I still kept on asking myself, “Will I be strong enough to see him again and not be drawn by everything that has transpired between the two of us?

Yes I might be younger back then, but at such a younger age, I already knew what I wanted and am determined enough to make it all happen.

He had been with many men, and so did I.

But if there’s that slightest chance of us, being back together, then I thought that I would risk everything, life and limb included, to prove that, no matter how sappy it might sound, I’d always come back to his love.

Recently, I have been moonlighting as a private duty nurse to a patient who was admitted to our hospital but was discharged a few months ago.

His room was darn freaking cold that private nurses have to wear at least three layers of clothing or suffer the risk of frostbite.

My patient was asleep then (it was 2 am) and a generic message entered my inbox.

It was him.


To be continued…

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Always Be My Baby


Congratulations to David Cook for winning American Idol.

Cookeys forever!

(Regular blogging resumes after my endorphins and cathecholamines reach their half-lives.)

Friday, May 16, 2008


i asked God for strength that i might achieve;

i was made weak that i might learn humbly to obey:

i asked for health that i might do great things;

i was given infirmity that i might do greater things:

i asked for riches that i might be happy;

i was given poverty that i might be wise:

i asked for power that i might have the praise of men;

i was given weakness that i might feel the need of God:

i asked for all things that i might enjoy life;

i was given life that i might enjoy all things:

i got nothing that i asked for but everything that i hoped for;

almost despite myself my unspoken prayers were answered:

i am among all men most richly blest.


(Seen at the Apolinario Mabini Rehabilitation Center of the UST Hospital.)

Saturday, April 19, 2008

God Bless The Broken Road

I long have envisioned this blog to be a space where I can entertain, educate and inspire other people with my stories, life experiences and personal tales.

But recently, inasmuch as I’d love to furnish this page with my new expoits, some things (ie., work, personal fears, reservations) seem to hinder me from doing so.

And I have long contemplated on, er, temporarily closing this site but…


There was a recent admission in ICU Suite F. We were advised to implement Universal Precautions to the nth level as this’ll be a very unusual case. While the patient is being wheeled from the stretcher to the ICU Bed, I donned my paper mask, NIOSH (N-95) respirator, goggles, extra gown, and three overlapping gloves, and entered the “talked-about” suite.

“He” seems just like the usual intubated patient except that (yup, I’m cutting to the chase now) he’s HIV positive.

How he got the disease and the whole she-bang need not be discussed to maintain the confidential matters.


His admission sent a strong wave of fears among my co-staff and no matter how much we were supposed to contain the news among ourselves, the fact that we are taking care of an HIV+ patient is news that is just too much to handle.

For instance every time a blood extraction is warranted, we have to disclose his diagnosis to the medical technologists so that they can practice further caution. The same thing goes for the respiratory therapists who obtain his blood gases, the cleaning staff who handle his biological wastes, and so on.

And yet I’m proud to say that nobody among our staff refused to take care of him despite the insurmountable risks.


I think that this is such an opportune time to be educated about this disease. In a country where anti-retrovirals (ARVs) cost an arm and a leg, we cannot afford to get stricken by the disease.

And in this time when cure seems to be a bit tad imaginary, one could only hope and pray that further researches about HIV/AIDS will come into fruition and eventually produce that “magic bullet.”

But then still, education and prevention would have to do for now.


Taking care of “him” made me feel vindicated on why I failed to update this blog.

And no, he did not die.

So did I. Thank you very much.

He was discharged just last week, with his boyfriend, both strong and well.


And I couldn’t get any happier.


To you, thank you for educating me, for inspiring me, for allowing me to take care of a very special person in you. And though I know that there’s that little to none chance of you dropping by this site of mine, I promise, deep within my heart, that I will never ever forget you and how you changed my perspective on life.


And this post is dedicated to you, my really really really really good friend Kiks.


Be strong. And be informed.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

I'm Coming Out

For the first time in my life, I was actually offended for being touted as "gay."

And someone calling me "gay" is something I find to be demeaning, shameful, and blatantly crude.

I have never told my colleagues that I am queer. Apart from a very few trusted ones who knew about my sexuality, I actually find no valid reason to profess my queerness to everyone I am working with.

Plus the fact that the news might spread like uncontrollable wildfire scares the hell out of me (cf. Grey's Anatomy).

It's just that I think that my sexuality has absolutely nothing to do with me performing my duties as a nurse, and likewise, me being gay, has absolutely nothing to do with my work. I wouldn't change a thing -- my bedside manners, my competency and skills, my behaviour towards my patients and colleagues, etc. -- based on the premise that I am out, or otherwise.

Hi! My name is Ruff, and I'll be your sex slave, er, nurse for today.

When an irate moribund patient's relative
referred to me as "that gay nurse," I was utterly infuriated that I could feel my cerebral blood vessels throb simultaneously with my heartbeat.

Me: "Excuse me ma'am what did you just say?"
Whore: "I was calling your attention because you left mama unattended while blah blah (continues with justifications which have actually nothing to do with my work)..."
Me: "I've heard that you called me "gay.""
Whore: "Oh (stumbles with pointless explanations very well dismissible in a court of law...)"
Me: "I thought you have a problem with me being "gay" as your mum's nurse." (Then went back to the station hoping that nobody ever heard everything that has transpired).


I have always told my closest friends that the reason why I haven't "out-ed" myself yet is that nobody dares to ask me personally. I find it pointless to just indiscriminately spill the beans or premeditatedly come to work in pink boots and butt-fitting pants just to show them my true self. Just like medical histories, you'll never get to actually know anything about a person unless you ASK.

But then again, I was contemplating as to whether I should say "YES, I AM GAY" if somebody would actually have the guts to ask me, or I would perpetually remain inside the closet and vehemently reply, "ME, GAY? NO WAY?" with much gusto and passion.

And yup, I was giggling (like you) as I was reading what I just last wrote.

But I'd give that old prude props for having the guts to call me "gay." Her gay-dar was impeccable she almost left me speechless for a minute.

If she could actually see right through me, could everybody else be far behind?

Or had they known about it all along?

Now that's a point I haven't even thought at all.

Should I get OUT or NOT? You decide. :-)

Wednesday, March 05, 2008


Sing me this song...

And I'll be yours forever.


M. J.,

I want to tell you that I have grown.

I no longer have to tell mom and dad that I’m going to Aldrin’s house for a thesis all-nighter just to be with you.

I no longer have braces, and you know what that means.

I’m now earning my own salary and we could now pay the rent for our humble, but erogenous, abode.

I no longer have to wait late night after your law school ‘cause my shift always ends late.

We could (again) shower together to save on those water bills.

Remember those scrubs that you love? And my usual scrub top and briefs ensemble? You could always see me wearing it, all the time.

Remember that time when we're almost caught doing something at that posh club at The Fort?

And lastly… I can call you hubby again.

And as always, I’ll be your baby forever.


Hello… is it me you’re looking for?


Pardon the overwhelming ambiguities. Too much serotonin cruising my vasculature right now, and yeah, sleeplessness, too.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Heaven (Updated!)

My oh my. This post is cuteness overload.

Okay, this I have to admit. I have lost interest in watching American Idol since Jasmine Trias (Season 3) got eliminated years, years back. I thought Fantasia Barrino sounds like Le Donald (the Duck, not the Trump), Carrie Underwood's win was so predictable, and Hicks' winning was just, er, so not Idol-worthy.

So, last last week, while I was having my night duty in the Cardiovascular Unit ward, between the wee hours of 2 and 3 in the morning. I entered room 2003 (vacant as of the time being), and watched the latest Idol season, and boy, oh boy, I was in for a big surprise.

Like hello, who could not *not watch this very gorgeous, talented, young boy.

I could just eat this guy. (Too bad, he didn't make it to the top 24).

And oops, it doesn't stop there. Here, watch my *other guy:

I was like ovulating on the inside.

And whoa, a Pinay making it to the top 24.

You go, homegirl!

Now tell me, is this AI season so not worthy of watching?

(And nope, this is not a paid post. Hahaha.)

* * * U P D A T E * * *

Oh my! Watching David Archuleta perform is pure bliss. I literally have to sew my mangina up just to keep my room from flooding. Okay, this post is becoming more and more vulgar so this'll be the last update mmmkay?

David Archuleta ALL THE WAY!!! Go, go, go davey!

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Go The Distance / The World's Greatest

Here I am. 1 in the morning. It’s my day off and I’m wasting precious sleeping time staring at that bright star (or is that Venus) glistening beside the crescent moon (Sailor Moon is that you) while reminiscing the past 21 years of my life.

When I was younger I always think that I’m destined for greatness. That someday I could find a cure for AIDS or devise the means to end poverty or bring that elusive world peace to reality or become an eponym for a medical procedure or a disease, like Ruff-du-Jour’s Syndrome or Ruff-the-Unbearable Maneuver.

But here I am. 1 in the morning, wasting my day off and wandering why I fail to be that person I so dream of.

I turned my iPod on, clicked Shuffle, and there plays Michael Bolton’s “Go The Distance.

Okay I’m just bluffing. It actually played Mary J. Blige’s “Be Without You” but typing Bolton makes this post sound a bit facetious.

As a nurse, my days evolve around my professional life in the hospital and my almost non-existent personal life which I could sum up into two words: eating, sleeping.

Like an epiphany of some sorts, stuffs miraculously perfuse into my head and slowly converted into words to fill this blog that could be easily categorized as “Archived” or “Abandoned” due to my neglect and inattention.

And on that note, here are twenty realizations (originally two-thousand and eight) for the past twenty years of my life.

(1) I, actually, am a good person. Very good person.

(2) I am not a composite of Meredith Grey, or John Dorian, or Carrie Bradshaw, or Elle Woods, or any other fictional character into any fictitious show that deludes me into the belief that they’re “just playing my life.”

There’s no point in me imagining that my life will take a Grey’s Anatomy turn of events because I'm not Meredith Grey. I'm more like George O’Malley, if anything, but the truth is I am my own character writing my own story.

I have a life of my own. And I am real. I am better than Grey, Dorian, Bradshaw, Woods, McDreamy, and so much more. I am Ruff. And I'll be great.

(3) My ideal guy is just around the corner, and sooner or later, he’ll get to find me. It’s just that we’re both busy chasing our dreams that our lovelives is a little haywire. After some readjustments of goals, he’ll come to me, and we’ll live happily ever after.

(4) But I would then buy my own car before that happens. Public transport just wouldn’t do.

(5) I could not believe how many people died during my stay in the Intensive Care Unit. Five died under my care (but not due to my negligence thank you very much), and I could recall their names, their faces, and their life histories.

P.M., F.A., A.B.L., N.B. and E.C., requiescat in pace.

(6) I, however, saved a thousand more.

And I’m not being too pompous when I said that.

(7) Regarding the previous statement, seeing people walk out of the hospital alive is the reason why I keep holding on to my job. Sleepless nights and all, body pains, infections and all, being unappreciated and all, I do *freaking love what I do.

(8) I am loved by many people. And I love many people. This alone makes me special.

(9) I may have plenty, but I am not the sum total of all my failures.

(10) I already know who and what are important. I just have to keep reminding myself of them.

(11) By default, I am destined to kill somebody (job-related or otherwise).

(12) No amount of treadmill, protein shakes, bench presses and yoga sessions could compensate for the fact that I love to eat. I know, I know, that my obsession to Starbucks, Jollibee, Big Mac, Yellow Cab, TGIF, Cheesecakes etc., and Bubba Gump is deleterious to my health.

(14) It’s actually easy to be happy.

Most of my unhappiness stems from being too conscious about how I come off to other people. And all my happy moments are the times when I simply did not care.

(15) I am the best there is at what I do.

(16) There's no point in thinking that people, including myself, will get what we deserve. Mostly because we have no right to judge what, exactly, people deserve.

(17) Maganda pala ako. (Trans: I am actually beautiful.)

(18) And in line with that, I don't need someone else to validate my good looks. Normally when I wish for such validation they come in the form of condescending remarks coming from people trying to ask personal favours from me or ill-spelled private messages from people who've seen my friendster, facebook or g4m profile. That kind of validation I do not need. And besides, if I cannot find myself attractive how can I expect anyone of reasonable taste and intelligence to do so?

(19) I still believe that I’m destined to do great things.

(20) This is supposed to be my hundredth post but since I suck at: (1) math, (2) remembering dates, and (3) finding time to write, I missed the momentous event. Well, it’s still memorable naman. My 101st.

(21) Twenty-one is not a time for a quarter-life crisis, or for any kind of crisis. This is the time where I've got life by the balls. This is the most empowered I have ever been. At sixteen I may have thought I could conquer the world. At eighteen I may have thought I had the legal licence to do so. At twenty I felt that now I had the right to go nuts all over the world. But now is really the time where my life and my decisions and the resulting consequences are truly my own. I should always remember that, and live according to that truth.


In an emo fit I once yelled, “Twenty-one and what am I doing with my life?

Well, I'll tell you.

I'm living it.

Images from here.

Monday, January 21, 2008

You Think You're A Man

Brian: We're queer. We don't need marriage. We don't need the sanction of dickless politicians and pederast priests. We fuck who we want to, when we want to. That is our God-given right.

Michael: But it is also our God-given right to have everything that straight people have. Because we're every bit as much human as they are.

As a cynic, I have always believed that nothing lasts forever. And that includes human relationships. Eventually, in one way or the other, everything is doomed to fail. Everything will perish. Everything will end.

But that’s just me.


Like Mandaya and Kiks, I have to confess that I’m in a serious relationship right now…

With my work, that is.

Oftentimes I’m asked as to why I’m not in a commitment right now. Now that I’m earning my own salary, paying for my own finances, and am surreptitiously in an opportune time to mind my own career aside from the one I have at patients’ bedsides. Every time I encounter that annoying question, I always have one straight and sweet answer:

“Work is my priority as of the moment.”

Work has always been my guilt-free pass for almost everything. Missed social rendezvous? Because of work. Going to the gym? Sorry, I have work. My 8-hour-sleep-minimum? Got to wake up early due to work. No boyfriend right now? Too busy with work.

But this post’ve got nothing to do with work. Rather, it is about relationships.

It is a known fact that I’ve been to too many one in my past, and for being burned *that many times, I’m blissfully and eternally grateful that I am still alive. It, however, theoretically didn’t and won’t stop me from pursuing one, because as a human being, I do have that innate need to love and be loved.

I want someone who will truly understand me and the person underneath me. I need someone who will accept the real me and will unconditionally love me despite my weaknesses and flaws. I long for someone who will take care of me, who will share with my joys and pains, and of course, who will do me every time I got the occasional itch.

Just kidding.

My last three (failed) relationships taught me three important things in life: 1) long distance relationships are doomed to fail eventually: 2) honesty is still the best policy even in relationships: and 3) learn to love yourself first.

Those mistakes, however, practically hindered me from venturing out into the woods again. Because I’m still here in this freaking cold, forsaken crossroad, searching and looking which way affords the easy relief.

By now it should appear to everyone that I really don’t what the hell I’m talking about.

So let me go back to my previous postulate, that, everything is doomed to fail.

But then, there’s that something that breaks away from the mold. Something far from ordinary. Something that’ll stand out among the rest.

And that thing is your relationship with yourself.

For as long as you know that you are at peace with yourself, no man, no shit, no dickless homophobes, and no bitter ex-lovers would deter you from being the best person that you could ever be.

And that is what man to man relationship essentially means.


Monday, January 07, 2008

One Moment In Time

Finally the Christmas and New Year hype is over.

That, probably, is the understatement of the year as I celebrated both overly momentous occasions within the confines of the Intensive Care Unit.

In fact, I’m just starting with my Holiday shopping, starting with buying some presents for myself, a few more for my very few loved ones, and a bit some for my even fewer godchildren.

In fact I couldn’t even imagine how my almost nonexistent paycheck could extend, morph or warp into something that could afford me this, this, or this.

On the other hand, working in a hospital gives you that guilt-free pass for not showing up with your pesky albeit cute godchildren, nieces, nephews, cousins, etc. or whoever believes that the gift-giving Christmas tradition must be impeccably honored.


The year that was reminds me so much of several things:

1. That if Britney would die and reincarnate, the reincarnation would be me;
2. That I was making small steps in my way of making my dreams come true;
3. That spending time with a loved one is exhilarating, but surviving alone through those cold, lifeless nights is more fulfilling, and;
4. That despite how much fulfilled we think we are, there, inevitably, will be some regrets that will haunt us forever.

For instance:

I was that Whitney.

But eventually I am going to marry my own Bobby Brown, waste my money buying crack cocaine, and spend my days watching my own personal videos in youtube, or xtube, or wherever.

So for this year, I only have one personal wish.
That I will live my life without regrets. I will be ruthless and unforgiving. I will be bold, and brazen, and remorseless. I will never ask for anyone’s approval. I will live my life the way I feel. And for this year, I will be the best me.
And I’m starting it now.

Happy New Year everyone!