Tit for Tat

Six years ago, the universe decided to throw a brick at my head. Or more accurately, an 18-wheeler at my car.

I was cruising down McArthur Highway in Bulacan, minding my own damn business, when BAM — a speeding truck turned my Ford Ecosport into modern art. Somehow, I walked away without a scratch, like some kind of invincible badass.

And then, exactly one week later, my dad died.

No, the two events weren’t directly connected — he had been in intensive care for months and thankfully had no idea about my little demolition derby moment — but the timing? Too freaky to ignore. That’s when I realized something: the universe isn’t obsessed with fairness. It’s obsessed with balance.

Yin and yang. Life and death. Smash and heal. Chaos and calm. You don’t get one without the other, and trying to fight it is like yelling at the tide.

I got another shot at life, but the price was losing someone who shaped mine. Like Kahlil Gibran said, life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

Look, none of us are getting out of here alive. We’re all dangling over the unknown by the world's sketchiest piece of thread, pretending we’re in control. Spoiler: we’re not. Death smiles at us all — might as well flash your pearly whites right back at it.

So choose kindness. Everyone you meet is hauling around invisible battles like emotional luggage.

Choose love. It's not just a lightning bolt from the sky — it’s a decision, and you make it every damn day.

Choose gratitude. Hunt for it like it’s buried treasure, because otherwise negativity will gobble you up faster than a bad mood on a Monday morning.

And most importantly?

Choose yourself. You’re the only one who can.