about me

Hi, I’m Melody. I’ve been alive for 21
years now, and I finally have my own
mp4. I’m very excited about this,
and generally excited by anything else that falls into the “cute” or “cozy”

I learned to play guitar when I was 16 from my brother named Morris who is fond of playing it at that time. I like blankets. But that’s probably because I’m always
freezing cold.

I LOVE Pasig. That’s where I live, and I’m lucky enough to be there. I love the town so much, and scream “I LOVE THIS TOWN” loudly out the windows. That wouldn’t be weird, right? Every time I try and wink at
someone, I mess it up and end up scaring people. My lucky number always has been and always will be 3. It pops up in front of me in the most obvious and undeniable ways, but only when something good is about to

I’m an Aries. I think that means I’m a creative person. It also means I have a Summer-themed birthday party every year. I love cool colors (especially GREEN) and things that make reality seem more whimsical than it is. I have a collection of letters, from friends and ex-boyfriends whom i still keep safe in a box.

I under-think and under-plan and
under-organize. I’ve been like this since I
was a baby, before I was became 5’3″ tall and over-relaxed.

These days, I’ve been trying to classify my thoughts into two categories:
“Things I can change,” and “Things I can’t.” It seems to help me sort through what to really stress about.
But there I go again, under-planning and under-organizing my under-thinking! I write songs and poems about my adventures and
misadventures, most of which concern

Love is a tricky business. But if it
wasn’t, I wouldn’t be so enthralled with
it. Lately I’ve come to a wonderful realization that makes me even more
fascinated by it: I have no idea what
I’m doing when it comes to love. No one does! There’s no pattern to it, except
that it happens to all of us, of course. I can’t plan for it. I can’t predict how it’ll end up. Because love is unpredictable and it’s frustrating and it’s tragic and it’s beautiful. And even though there’s no way to feel like I’m
an expert at it, it’s worth writing songs about — more than anything else I’ve ever experienced in my life.

I’ve apparently been the victim of growing up, which apparently happens to all of us at one point or another. It’s been going on for quite some time now, without me knowing it. I’ve found that growing up can mean a lot of things. For me, it doesn’t mean I should become somebody completely new and
stop loving the things I used to love. It means I’ve just added more things to
my list. Like for example, I’m still
beyond obsessed with the summer season. I love the heat of Summer and grocery shopping
and really old cats that are only nice
to you half the time.

I still love writing
in my journal and wearing dresses all the time and staring at chandeliers. But some new things I’ve fallen in love with — mismatched everything.
Mismatched chairs, mismatched colors,
mismatched personalities. I love
spraying perfumes I used to wear when I was in high school. It brings me back to the days of trying to get a close parking spot at school, trying to get noticed by soccer players, and trying to figure out how to avoid
doing or saying anything uncool, and wishing every minute of every day that one day maybe I’d get a chance to win an award. Or something crazy
and out of reach like that. 😉 I love old
buildings with the paint chipping off
the walls and my dad’s stories about his childhood. I love the freedom of living
alone, but I also love things that make
me feel seven again. Back then naivety
was the norm and skepticism was a
foreign language, and I just think
every once in a while you need fries and a chocolate milkshake and your
mom. I love picking up a cookbook and
closing my eyes and opening it to a
random page, then attempting to
make that recipe. This was ridiculously long, and you
probably have other stuff you could’ve
done in the last four minutes. So to
you, or anyone else who has spent four minutes on me in some way– Thank you. I love you like I love sparkles and having the last word. And that’s real love.


*retrieved and based from Taylor Swift’s About Me section on her website. I think we share some qualities together. 🙂


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