I have no qualms. I did end up as a doctor. 

But, in this retrospective outlook in the spirit of Christmas, I must say... I've remembered a place where I wanted to take up something else.

I remember the 12 year old kid who used to write a lot, active in the school paper, wanting to be more socially involved and being out there. Then the next year, I remember being so passionate with public speaking and dreaming of becoming a newscaster or a documentary journalist. 

Funny how 10 years later, I tell that kid that I have an M.D. across my name and probably forgotten how to write (hence the very existence of this blog site). "Wala daw pera" sa pagsusulat. How's writing gonna pay the bills, they all used to say.

Sad, I wasn't courageous enough to go exactly for what I really wanted in life.

But then, I realized lately its not the end. I'm blessed that I am a doctor. But sometimes the problems at the hospital, the intricates of life and death robs you out of your very existence that it burns you out. 

This is why we need hobbies. And maybe so, writing won't pay the bills.. But it will definitely get my mind sane in paying my monthly facial and revlite (dont forget my every 3 months hair color, I am so addicted to).

I think I wanna go after my passions.

I think I can do both.

And I think, I will just need to bear my last year of pediatric residency in order to finally be free and do what I was meant to do... Live.

And you bet your ass there's gonna be fucking side comments climbing that hill, making both worlds meet. But this time, it's silent treatment for you. I refuse to be a coward from now on, even if it means living in the state of poverty (oh em geeeeeeee, my soft hands weren't build for labor, hahaha) 😭😭