Thursday, September 4, 2025
From Tourist to Toy: The Unlikely Journey of "Okinawa Adventurer"
Friday, August 22, 2025
Half Human, Half Survivor
💪🔥🌅 Half Human, Half Survivor
When life tried to silence me with a stroke, I thought it was the end of my story. The pain, the weakness, the fear — they were all real. I lost strength, I lost words, and for a moment, I thought I had also lost myself.
But survival is not about having an unbroken body. It’s about refusing to give up even when you’re broken. Every morning I wake up, I fight against the weight of my own limitations. I learn to walk a little farther. I train my hands to remember. I challenge my mind to believe again.
I am not the same man I was before — and that’s the beauty of it. The stroke may have taken a part of me, but it also forged something stronger: resilience.
I wear my scars like armor, not shame. I speak with silence, yet my life shouts louder than before. I may have stumbled, but I rise with fire in my eyes — half human, half unyielding survivor.
To those still fighting their unseen battles: know this — your weakness today can be your weapon tomorrow. Do not count yourself out. Every heartbeat is a second chance.
This is not just survival. This is rebirth.
StrokeSurvivor #Resilience #NeverGiveUp
Monday, August 11, 2025
No Privilege, Only Perseverance: A Public Servants’ Daughter Reaches the Summit
In a country where many believe success belongs to those born into privilege, Helena Beatrice Dacumos Asi stands as living proof that grit, perseverance, and values can carve a path to greatness.
A proud product of the Philippine public school system, Helena’s academic journey began in the humble classrooms of P. Guevarra Elementary School, continued through the bustling halls of Soliman High School, and culminated at the Pamantasan ng Lungsod ng Maynila—where she now graduates Magna Cum Laude, Bachelor of Secondary Education major in English.
Her story is not one of luxury, but of sacrifice and determination. Born to two devoted public servants—her mother, a Values Education teacher at Abad Santos High School in Manila, and her father, a Senior Education Program Specialist at the Department of Education Central Office—Helena grew up in a household where wealth was measured not in pesos, but in integrity, service, and love for others.
Through the years, she excelled as a consistent honor student, honed her leadership as a school organization officer, and earned the respect of peers and mentors as a diligent researcher and dependable team player. Each achievement was forged not in comfort, but in resilience—proof that even with limited resources, excellence is attainable when paired with relentless effort.
Beyond her academic and leadership pursuits, Helena is a cat lover—finding comfort and joy in the quiet companionship of her feline friends. They are a reminder that amidst challenges, small moments of kindness and warmth keep the spirit alive.
This October 2025, Helena Beatrice Asi dons her cap and gown not just as a Magna Cum Laude graduate, but as a testament to every child of public servants, every student from public schools, and every dreamer who has faced the odds. Her journey tells us: You don’t need privilege to reach the summit—only perseverance, heart, and the courage to keep climbing.
Friday, August 8, 2025
Mula sa Pait ng Pagkawala Hanggang sa Yakap ng Diyos
Karugtong ng una kong akda na <<<Ang Yakap na Hindi Ko Naibigay>>>.
Parang madilim na pasilyo ang buhay ko noon—walang bintana, walang araw, tanging bigat lang ng sarili kong paghinga ang kasama ko. Wala na ang anak ko… kinuha siya nang masyadong maaga, iniwan ang isang katahimikan na sobrang lakas, parang sumisigaw sa tenga ko gabi’t araw.
Sa gitna ng pagdadalamhati, nalunod ako sa utang—hindi lang sa pera, kundi pati sa oras, tiwala, at pasasalamat sa mga taong tumulong noong gumuho ang mundo ko. Para akong nabubuhay sa mga araw na hindi sa’kin, suot ang isang mukha na hindi akin, humihinga pero hindi tunay na nabubuhay.
May mga umaga na hindi ko alam kung bukang-liwayway na o dapithapon lang—mapusyaw na liwanag lang na sumisilip sa kurtina. Bawat katok sa pinto, maaaring maniningil. Bawat tunog ng cellphone, maaaring isa na namang paalala kung gaano ako kapos.
Pero ang pinakamalaking utang ko, hindi pera—kundi emosyon. May isang yakap akong hindi naibigay sa anak ko. Yung yakap na walang salita pero nagsasabing Mahal kita at Andito lang ako kahit wala na ang lahat. Yung yakap na mananatili na lang sa alaala, at hindi na magiging totoo.
Doon namin naisip ng asawa ko na lumapit sa Diyos. Alam ko, Siya lang ang magiging kanlungan namin—ang matatag na muog sa panahong lahat ng bagay sa buhay namin parang gumuho at naglaho.
Noong panahong iyon, nakikitira kami sa bahay ng mga biyenan ko sa Tanza, Navotas. Nasa U.S. sila noon kaya kami lang mag-asawa ang nandun—dala ang bigat ng lungkot sa isang bahay na kumakabog sa katahimikan. Doon namin nakilala ang isang komunidad na tinatawag na Couples for Christ.
Sa una, sumali lang kami para may mapagkaabalahan, para hindi kami lamunin ng katahimikan. Pero habang tumatagal, naging higit pa ito sa inaasahan namin. Binigyan kami ng komunidad ng gabay, ng pagkakaibigan, at ng kasiguraduhan na hindi kami naglalakad sa mabigat na daan na ito nang mag-isa.
Sa init ng pagtanggap ng mga dating estranghero na ngayo’y kaibigan na, unti-unti naming nabalik ang mga piraso ng sarili naming sinira ng dalamhati. Dahan-dahan, ang pananampalataya ay nagsimulang magtahi sa mga punit na iniwan ng sakit.
At natutunan namin—kahit hindi na maibabalik ang dating buhay—na kayang huminga ng Diyos ng bagong pag-asa kahit sa tuyong buto, at maglagay ng liwanag kahit sa pinakamabigat na puso.
Kahit ngayon, ramdam ko pa rin ang bigat ng yakap na hindi ko naibigay—isang puwang sa puso na hindi kayang punan ng panahon o salita. Pero sa bawat paghinga, sa bawat hakbang, natututo akong mabuhay hindi para kalimutan, kundi para magpatuloy dala ang alaala niya. At dito nagsisimula ang isang panibagong kabanata—isang kwento ng pananampalataya, pagbabangon, at mga biyayang hindi ko inasahan. Abangan ninyo sa susunod na bahagi ng aking blog kung paano binago ng Diyos ang takbo ng buhay namin… sa paraang hindi ko kailanman akalaing mangyayari.
Thursday, August 7, 2025
Ang Yakap na Hindi Ko Naibigay
Noong una akong nag-post ng “First Time Father”, puno iyon ng pag-asa, pananabik, at impulsibong pagmamahal sa magiging anak ko. Ipininta ko roon ang aking mga pangarap bilang isang ama. Isang araw sa buhay ko ang hindi ko makakalimutan. Hindi dahil sa saya. Kundi dahil sa sakit—isang sakit na walang lunas, at walang tiyak na dulo.
Ilang taon na ang lumipas, pero sariwa pa rin sa alaala ko ang araw na iyon. Araw na dapat puno ng tuwa, ngunit nauwi sa katahimikan. Isang katahimikang humahapdi. Isang katahimikang sumisigaw.
First time ko maging ama. Isang titulo na matagal kong hinintay, ngunit hindi ko lubos na naangkin. Sapagkat ang anak kong minahal ko kahit di pa siya isinisilang… ay agad ding kinuha sa amin.
Hindi ko alam kung paano magsimula. O kung may saysay pa bang magsimula. Nasa NICU siya—napakaliit, napakahina. Puno ng tubo ang katawan niya, mga kagamitang tila humihila sa kanya pabalik sa mundo. Gusto ko siyang yakapin, hawakan man lang ang kanyang kamay. Ngunit bawal. Tanging salamin ang pagitan namin. Tanging panalangin ang naipapasa ko.
Habang tinitingnan ko siya sa loob ng NICU, para akong nawawala. Para akong lumulutang sa isang mundong walang kulay. Napakadilim. Puro dilim. Walang katapusang dilim.
At mas masakit pa—nakikita ko ang asawa ko. Tahimik. Wasak. Siya na nagdala sa aming anak ng siyam na buwan. Siya na may koneksyong higit pa sa dugo, higit pa sa laman. Nahahabag ako sa kanya. Gusto ko siyang alalayan, pero pareho kaming durog. Wala akong lakas. Wala akong sagot. Ang tanging meron ako—ang bigat ng pagkukulang.
May dala kaming munting damit, isusuot sana ng aming anak sa pag-uwi. Ngunit hindi niya ito nasuot. Hanggang ngayon, nakatupi pa rin ito sa crib. Walang amoy. Walang bakas ng katawan. Isang alaala ng pangarap na hindi natupad.
Masakit. Masakit sa isang amang walang nagawa kundi ang umiyak sa corridor ng ospital. Walang yapak, walang palakpak, walang halakhak ng sanggol. Tanging iyak ng puso ang naririnig ko sa gabi.
Kung kaya ko lang ibalik ang panahon. Kung kaya ko lang ibulong sa kanya kung gaano ko siya kamahal. Pero ang lahat ay huli na.
Anak, patawad.
Hindi ko naibigay ang yakap na pinangarap ko.
Pero dalangin ko, sa kabilang buhay, magkita tayo.
At sa unang pagkakataon—mahagkan kita nang buong-buo.
Tuesday, August 5, 2025
My first AI Creation
My First AI Creation
Since Artificial Intelligence is the “it” trend these days—practically the cool kid everyone’s whispering about—I decided to hitch a ride on that bandwagon. On August 5, 2025, I conjured an image of my daughter using AI prompts, and let me tell you: the thrill was real. I’m not saying lightning struck, but—okay, yeah—I’m definitely saying it felt like lightning. Woot. Woot.
But here’s where the fun gets deeper. My creation? Not just pixels or algorithms. It’s a digital echo of something profoundly human: the shape of her smile, the twinkle in her eyes, the promise in her presence. It’s me whispering, “Here’s who she is, and here’s who she could be,” in code and color.
This AI portrait doesn’t just mimic—it listens, learns, and captures potential. It’s not perfection. It’s aspiring. Like a poem unwritten yet deeply felt, it’s a mirror to what’s possible—the infinite someday hiding in a tiny, glowing screen.
Message me if you like something like this.
100 Things About Me (Rewritten)
In light of my stroke and with the desire to preserve what I can still recall, I offer this list of one hundred things that define and reflect my journey. #everyoneシ゚ #strokesurvivor #100thingsaboutme
Thursday, June 26, 2025
Manila Day, Stroke Day: How June 24 Changed Everything for Me
I apologize for the delay; I was unable to post for several months. I had a stroke last year, and this is my story.
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While the city blazed with parades, lights, and fanfare, my world dimmed in an instant.
I remember it clearly—or at least, I try to. The day began like any other Manila Day: warm air, buzzing streets, and that proud, defiant heartbeat only our capital knows. But somewhere between the laughter and the feast, my left arm went limp. My words began to slur. My heart knew before my mind could catch up: this was not normal.
I was having a stroke.
While others were marching in celebration, I was being wheeled into a hospital, not knowing if I would ever march again.
The irony bit hard—on the day Manila was born, I almost died.
The days that followed were blurred pain and silent prayers. I couldn’t move my hand. My body, once strong and steady, had become unfamiliar. I was a prisoner in my own skin. But something in me, something Manila-bred and fire-forged, refused to give up.
I fought.
One twitch became a movement. A breath became a sentence. One step became two. Then three.
Now, one year later, I don’t just celebrate Manila Day — I honor it as my second birthday. Not the day I was born, but the day I was reborn.
I am not the same man I was.
I am slower, maybe. But I am deeper. Wiser. Grateful.
The left hand may still be stubborn, but the heart? It’s unstoppable.
So today, as the city raises its flags — so do I.
A survivor. A warrior. A living testament to the spirit of this city and the strength that rises when all else falls.
Happy Manila Day. Happy Survival Day.
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