antonita hanga

Nandito na si Lee!
          
          I made Diary ni Lee like way back 2022 pa, and it changed the trajectory of my life (ang OA!) I have no thoughts when I posted That Tweet before, just: I wanted to create a genuine character as much as possible. Also, I want it to be about life, about growing up, falling in love, making the same mistakes, over and over again. To bring back nostalgia, to introduce Our Generation to the young, as well as sa adults. 
          
          Hindi pa uso 'yung mga diary style kineme before sa mga AU kaya medyo duda pa ako talaga before, like what if mali 'yung ginagawa ko? Pero, whatever! I really want Lee to become true. And there, I posted it.
          
          Then suddenly, kinabukasan, pagbukas ko ng Twitter, Diary Ni Lee was a huge hit! Nagulat ako umabot pa siya sa ibang bansa, HAHAHAHA!
          
          That's why, nand2 ul8 em, sinusulat si Lee. Still the same plot, the same dynamic, but with different approach this time. Marami nang nangyari sa buhay ko, nagbago na rin ang mga pananaw ko. And I think, ganoon din si Lee.
          
          This is a hybrid epistolary. Meaning, with narrations pa rin. Mixed with diary entries, social media posts, animations, and of course, illustrations (hindi tafosiy ang isang book kung walang illustrations! HAHAHA)
          
          As mentioned, same plot pa rin naman. But there will be changes din sa ibang parts since 'yung posted sa Twitter ay sobrang daming errors! Naloloka ako! Bangag, e.
          
          Ayon lang. TY. XOXO. NGL. FRFR. :)
          
          P.S. The characters are flawed,
          pwera kay Lee! :P
          
          P.P.S. Huwag seryosohin.
          
          Love,
          Antonita!
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/222322559

“Hanap-buhay. Hanap buhay.”
          
          There are lines that stay with you longer than expected. I first encountered that phrase in a work by Ronaldo Vivo Jr., 'Ang Kapangyarihang Higit Sa Ating Lahat', and it lingered; quiet but heavy, like it understood adulthood better than I did.
          
          Around that time, I was also rewatching the Before trilogy and falling back into old Filipino films as well. Not out of trend, but out of nostalgia;  of trying to feel something familiar in a world that keeps moving forward without asking permission.
          
          That was where Paru-paro came from.
          
          Kung Magkataon Man Na Pareho Tayong Dalawang Paru Parong Lumilipad, a title I kept long because it sounded like something remembered rather than written. Something old. Something almost already lost.
          
          At its core, it is simple: strangers meeting, talking, drifting into each other’s lives. A familiar premise, maybe even overused. But I wanted to see if nostalgia could make it feel new again, if memory itself could become structure.
          
          I found my form in screenplay writing, inspired by, and posted it first as an AU on Twitter. No polish, no reinvention. Eventually, I moved it to Wattpad as-is. A BL story. A screenplay. A fragment of youth written in passing moments.
          
          It is driven by nostalgia, for the streets, for uncertainty, for the kind of life that feels unplanned but alive. I leaned into what felt present: modern chaos, humor, and the quiet absurdity of growing up now.
          
          Paru-paro is not meant to be perfect.
          
          Only remembered.
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/220822851

There is something strangely beautiful about listening to mothers speak of their youth.
          
          I have never found the “mas masaya noon” narrative irritating. On the contrary, I have always found it deeply fascinating. I grew up listening to my mother tell stories about her childhood, about friendship, recklessness, heartbreak, and the peculiar comedy of growing up Filipino.
          
          And somehow, in nearly every story, one person always appeared:
          
          Filipina.
          
          My mother would describe her as the “loka-loka” friend. The loud one. The funny one. The friend who could turn even the most miserable afternoon into something worth remembering. She was also, strangely enough, the reason my parents met.
          
          But like many women, life was not particularly gentle with her.
          
          Somewhere along the way, my mother lost contact with Filipina. She no longer knows where she is, nor what became of her. 
          
          Pero ika nga ni Velasco, isa lang naman ang tanging hiling niya: ang matupad lahat ng hinangad, hinahangad, at hahangarin ni Filipina.
          
          And perhaps that is where this story truly began.
          
          I have always wanted to write about women, about the endurance required of them. Women who love deeply, make terrible decisions, survive unbearable things, and still wake up the next morning carrying the world as if it weighs nothing at all.
          
          This novel was born from that desire.
          
          Not to create a perfect woman, but a human one.
          
          A woman who laughs too loudly. A woman who ruins things. A woman who loves recklessly. A woman who survives.
          
          This is Filipina’s life, seen through the eyes of Velasco.
          
          And through him, I hope you will see Filipina not simply as a character, but as what many women are forced to become in order to survive this godforsaken world:
          
          Tender.
          Foolish.
          Lonely.
          Hopeful.
          
          Human.
          
          Despite, despite, despite.
          
          This is Filipina.
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/220521110

Summer, 2018.
          
          I was young then, young enough to believe that stories could alter the course of a nation, and perhaps naïve enough to think I might one day write one myself.
          
          I remember carrying copies of and with a kind of reverence I could not yet explain. I was deeply moved by the realization that fiction, mere ink pressed upon paper, had once awakened an entire people. That a novel could become more than a novel; it could become grief, outrage, memory, resistance.
          
          And so I thought: perhaps, one day, when I am older, I shall write something of my own.
          
          But for years, I convinced myself I was not yet worthy of doing so. I told myself I needed to grow older first, to understand the streets, society, the cruelty of indifference, the quiet violence of ignorance. I believed that before one could write truthfully about the world, one must first survive it.
          
          As the years passed, I wandered deeper into literature and cinema, into stories that taught me art is not created merely to entertain, but to remember, to question, and sometimes, to accuse.
          
          The older I became, the more difficult it was to remain apolitical. One cannot witness injustice repeatedly and still call silence neutrality.
          
          And somewhere between those questions, Elenoide was born.
          
          This is not merely a story about robots, artificial intelligence, or a distant future. Science fiction, in this novel, is not decoration; it is diagnosis. Every character carries fragments of the Filipino people. Every scene, every silence, every act of rebellion was written with intention.
          
          Though fictional, its wounds are real.
          
          This is the story of Elias and Sergio.
          
          And after carrying this world within me since 2018,
          
          Elenoide is finally here!
          
          https://www.wattpad.com/story/234382444