I've yet to watch the finale, but before everything is finally revealed - here, consider this my own tribute.

That was taken last October, when I celebrated my birthday at home with some high school friends over the semester break. I played it for my two friends, Hope and Tin, who were huge fans of the show as well. Hope recorded the entire song, but because of Instagram's 15-second limit, it had to be cut up a bit. Oh well, I'd like to believe the essence of the entire theme was there in that clip anyway (aka, it's still recognizable!)

This show has certainly been a rollercoaster ride. It's made me sad and happy for many things, for reasons within the world it has created, and for reasons that go beyond the 20-minute mark for each episode. It has been, in many ways, the encapsulation of a truly great friend - someone to be with you for the good times and the bad. Each episode is the equivalent of hanging out with a friend and a bottle of beer - it's easy, it's natural, but it's not always senseless. With each swig, a story is told, a laugh is shared. This show has taught me the importance of always valuing each story and each moment - because isn't that what we can all take away from this? The fact that everything leads up to something bigger, the fact that it all makes up a part of a greater picture?

At the end of the day, How I Met Your Mother has made me believe in love - all kinds of it. The kind you have for your self, the kind of fondness that grows for the people you choose to consider your family, the kind of love for the unknown and the uncertain. The kind of love that's grand, and unexpected. The love that makes sense, and the love that doesn't.

For many people, HIMYM probably doesn't make sense anymore. It doesn't make sense sometimes to me either. Truth be told, I'm scared about the finale (and I have a lot of ranting to do if it goes the way I fear it would). But however the ending goes, here's my takeaway from the entire series: The stories we're now living - we've yet to find out how they play in the greater scheme of things. And we'll never know. But the hope that one day we will be able to figure it out, the hope that one day we'll appreciate every little bit for what it was -- that's the dream.

Thanks, How I Met Your Mother. Adios, muchachos!


*

EDIT:

To say that I hated the Finale would be such an understatement. But I'm still too insulted over what happened, I don't think I can write about it objectively, without being so incoherent and angry. I'd have to reserve putting down my thoughts and feelings on paper for some other time - but I definitely have something to say about this. #veryaffected

I've yet to watch the finale, but before everything is finally revealed - here, consider this my own tribute.

That was taken last October, when I celebrated my birthday at home with some high school friends over the semester break. I played it for my two friends, Hope and Tin, who were huge fans of the show as well. Hope recorded the entire song, but because of Instagram's 15-second limit, it had to be cut up a bit. Oh well, I'd like to believe the essence of the entire theme was there in that clip anyway (aka, it's still recognizable!)

This show has certainly been a rollercoaster ride. It's made me sad and happy for many things, for reasons within the world it has created, and for reasons that go beyond the 20-minute mark for each episode. It has been, in many ways, the encapsulation of a truly great friend - someone to be with you for the good times and the bad. Each episode is the equivalent of hanging out with a friend and a bottle of beer - it's easy, it's natural, but it's not always senseless. With each swig, a story is told, a laugh is shared. This show has taught me the importance of always valuing each story and each moment - because isn't that what we can all take away from this? The fact that everything leads up to something bigger, the fact that it all makes up a part of a greater picture?

At the end of the day, How I Met Your Mother has made me believe in love - all kinds of it. The kind you have for your self, the kind of fondness that grows for the people you choose to consider your family, the kind of love for the unknown and the uncertain. The kind of love that's grand, and unexpected. The love that makes sense, and the love that doesn't.

For many people, HIMYM probably doesn't make sense anymore. It doesn't make sense sometimes to me either. Truth be told, I'm scared about the finale (and I have a lot of ranting to do if it goes the way I fear it would). But however the ending goes, here's my takeaway from the entire series: The stories we're now living - we've yet to find out how they play in the greater scheme of things. And we'll never know. But the hope that one day we will be able to figure it out, the hope that one day we'll appreciate every little bit for what it was -- that's the dream.

Thanks, How I Met Your Mother. Adios, muchachos!


*

EDIT:

To say that I hated the Finale would be such an understatement. But I'm still too insulted over what happened, I don't think I can write about it objectively, without being so incoherent and angry. I'd have to reserve putting down my thoughts and feelings on paper for some other time - but I definitely have something to say about this. #veryaffected

Hello, I'm Karla Bernardo. If you Google my name, you will find the Wikipedia entry of a Canadian serial-killer (and trust me, you do not want to read about that - but I'm sure you will because now you're curious), which is why I suggest you type Bombastarr instead so you can stalk me better.

I spent eight-and-a-half years of my life in the University of the Philippines, where I graduated with degrees in Creative Writing and Juris Doctor. It is also where I learned how to speak a bit of Italian, got a taste of the best tapsilog, and took striptease for PE.

I love telling stories, as much as I enjoy finding them.

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Featured Works

Stargirl (Cover story for Nadine Lustre, Scout, January-February 2017)
Surreal / So Real (at Scout)
Ode to a Great Love's 17-year-old Self (Love.Life, Philippine Daily Inquirer)
Postcard from Diliman (Youngblood, Philippine Daily Inquirer)

Writer for Philippine Law Register
A Call to Arms (January 2017)
Expecting the Expected (March 2016)

Former Writer for Stache Magazine
The Hero's Journey (June 2013)
The 8 People You Become In Your Youth (June 2013)
The Best Bad Idea That Is Argo (April 2013)
Mike Ross Remembers Everything You Don't (August 2012)
Style Between the Riffs (August 2012)
Book Lovers Never Sleep Alone (June 2012)
A Spectrum of Change (December 2011)
Digital Art (October 2011)
Elements of Style (June 2011)
In Her White Dress (All-Art April 2011 issue)

Morning After Pill (Fervore: Literary Folio 2013, UP Portia Sorority)
How To Make a Blueberry Cheesecake (Kalas: Kalasag Literary Folio 2011, UP College of Arts and Letters)
January 14th (100: The Hundreds Project, UP Writer's Club)

An Ode to The Pillow Book (at New-Slang)
Introductions (at TeenInk)
One by One (at TeenInk)

   

Recently

Fighting spirit
UP Law: Dangal at Husay!
And her kiss, the color of a constellation falling...
Fortunes told
La Vie En Rose: Portia Induction Ball 2014
Joie de Vivre
Photograph by Arcade Fire "I'm just looki...
Love Poem Medley
Mouthful of Forevers
A Man Who Transforms You Into Poetry

This Is How It Doesn't Start

this is how it doesn't start, in eleven parts

Labels

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Archives

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Got a comment, question, violent reaction, love letter, or random piece of information you want to share with me? Just fire away. I don't bite.

(I changed my form and went back to Freedback because Ask.fm's being a bitch, requiring people to sign up for accounts before asking questions. Because I love you guys, I tweaked my ask box a bit, so that the questions will now go directly to my e-mail, but I'll be posting the answers still on my Ask.fm for convenience. TL;DR - I'll still be getting your questions so no worries. You're still free to harass me / send me your love.)

Answers

Most Frequently Asked Question

Are you a pornstar?
No, I am not a pornstar, stripper, or your friendly neighborhood call girl. It's just a fancy pseudonym with a long history, and two R's. Rawr.

Bombastarr is my personal blog and my little corner in the Internet since 2005. Yes, I started writing here when I was 13 years old (aka when I was very angsty, hormonal, and always gushing at the littlest things) -- ergo, you'd have to forgive me if you come across an old post that reeks of immaturity and slightly unpolished grammar. I did a lot of growing up here, and from the looks of it, there's still a lot of growing up to do, so I don't think I'll be leaving this place any time soon.

The domain, Bombastarr.com, was purchased on June 2014 and launched on July 2014, on the blog's ninth year (and fifth month, to be exact).

It's crazy to think that this blog is now thirteen years old, because (1) that seems like an eternity in internet years, and (2) that means if my blog were a kid, it's a teenager! That's insane.

Here's to more tales, explosive and otherwise.

If you've been living under a rock and think I'm a threat to world peace or an object of covetousness, sorry to disappoint you, folks: it's just a fancy pseudonym.

As in most things, it started in high school. It began as a joke between me and a couple of friends during our freshman year. We were practicing for a field demonstration dance which involved the use of shawls, and being the crazy-always-trying-to-be-funny person that I was (or I always attempted to be) I started doing poses with the garment. Someone started taking my picture using my phone, and one shot looked like I was posing for those B-list movies (or should it be R-list, as in R-rated?) of the vegetable-nomenclature variety. #IKYWIM. Hence, the word, "Bombastarr." Yes, very cheeky, I know, but for a 13-year-old, it was quirky enough to figure as a username. That was 2005, right around the time I trying to decide on a URL for a new blog. It's been a lot of years since, and what started as a joke became something I've eventually embraced as an identity.

Despite the many other chances I've gotten to permanently move (to Multiply, Livejournal, Tumblr, Wordpress; to a bigger platform where I can earn or use the blog as a venue for commerce), I've come to realize that Bombastarr is something I can never truly leave behind. It is a place I've grown to appreciate and love because it is a place I can call my own. It's a venue for my rants, my views, my writing. It is home, and it is who I am.

Bombastarr is a glimpse of my life: the thoughts, ideas, and stories that shape it into what it is, and what it will still become. This journal has been with me for all my crazy, often embarrassing adventures, but I'm sure there will be more anecdotes and feelings and people to write about. Which is something I'm really looking forward to. After all, you know what they say about the greatest stories - sometimes, there's still a lot that's left unwritten.

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