death by kare-kare

I love Christmas. It’s my favorite time of the year. I love giving presents and I love receiving them. I love good food. I’m living the good life.

My cousins and I are truly blessed. We always have good food to eat and we can afford capricious indulgence. We’re not rich, just lucky.

It’s been a tough year. I’m looking forward to a better one: new challenges to face; new difficulties to overcome. "2007 Abbey" is a bolder version to last year’s model; more resilient, hoping to me more efficient.

I have resigned myself to my fate. Not the hopeless-suicidal kind, but the optimistic-this-is-my-year-I’m-on-a-roll- streak- kind. The highs and the lows, all the drama, it’s all part of life. If anything happens, good, bad or otherwise, it’s simply meant to be.

After buckets and buckets of tears, getting hurt, breaking up, getting back together, hurting people along the way, and then getting hurt all over again, I’d go back for a hundred more. Why? Because it’s meant to be.

I’ve read somewhere that if we don’t live our lives knowing without a reasonable doubt or fear that everything that happens in our life was meant to be, then we’ll be asking ourselves too many questions, too many times. Life is short. No time for inner battles and disturbing questions. And who wants that?

I have eaten Kare-kare for three straight days now. I’m not complaining. Few people would have it so good. I have it stupendous.

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