Good Things Will Happen With Indoor Plants

The popularity of indoor plants has grown on social media. They’re practically everywhere. It’s a new millennial aesthetic. Add some cute succulents on your photo and it’ll be like those shelves on Pinterest. Why is everyone suddenly into indoor plants? Is it only because they look good after choosing the right filter?

I have a theory… because I got a few of them recently.

Why Keeping Indoor Plants Is Self-care

Here’s a little bit of a back story

I graduated from college four months ago, and I still haven’t found a job. I’ve applied to tons and tons of companies but no one seems to be hiring me. I have freelance work that landed me in starting this blog. Even so, that’s not a consistent source of income.

What they don’t tell you in schools is that most of the time, things don’t turn out the way you planned them to. As the writer, Ian Casocot, wrote on Facebook, “Graduation is a heartbreak nobody tells you about.”

I thought I’d find a job right away, especially with my above average grades. I thought I’d prove people wrong about writing. Is it too much to believe that there’s money in writing in the Philippines?

This failure to reach high expectations caused me too much disappointment. I never thought having this many existential drifts is possible.

I’m positive that things will come back to normal eventually. Hence, the indoor plants. Doesn’t it sound so far-fetched? I can explain.

Continue reading “Good Things Will Happen With Indoor Plants”

A Heartbreak at 16

Four years ago, I started talking to a guy I kinda liked more than I should have. I was sixteen and I didn’t know how to handle the butterflies in my stomach (as people would say). It was the first time I waited for texts and stayed up late to hold a conversation for a person I felt something “special” with. Of course, I was fun and I never stopped blushing until the texts stopped coming and I fell asleep waiting for my phone to ring.

It hurt.

I remember staring at the ceiling still desperately clenching on to my phone. Nothing arrived. I reached for my journal—a red college notebook perfect for the precocious emotions I was going through.

I revisited the article I submitted to CandyMag four years ago. It’s a bit pretentious, but it pretty much sums up my experience of a teenage heartbreak.

Read: To The Last Person Who Got Under My Skin | CandyMag