<script data-pm-proxy="intercept"></script><?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0" xmlns:itunes="http://www.itunes.com/dtds/podcast-1.0.dtd" xmlns:googleplay="http://www.google.com/schemas/play-podcasts/1.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[a wild clover, angeline 🍀]]></title><description><![CDATA[warm, personal essays exploring the messy, beautiful, and completely ordinary parts of being alive]]></description><link>https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com</link><image><url>https://substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!segU!,w_256,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2Fe96c641c-e6b5-4b04-a167-9a7b106edae4_1062x1062.png</url><title>a wild clover, angeline 🍀</title><link>https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com</link></image><generator>Substack</generator><lastBuildDate>Wed, 02 Sep 2026 05:41:04 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/feed" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><copyright><![CDATA[Angeline 🍀]]></copyright><language><![CDATA[en]]></language><webMaster><![CDATA[bioncoboopsie@substack.com]]></webMaster><itunes:owner><itunes:email><![CDATA[bioncoboopsie@substack.com]]></itunes:email><itunes:name><![CDATA[Angeline]]></itunes:name></itunes:owner><itunes:author><![CDATA[Angeline]]></itunes:author><googleplay:owner><![CDATA[bioncoboopsie@substack.com]]></googleplay:owner><googleplay:email><![CDATA[bioncoboopsie@substack.com]]></googleplay:email><googleplay:author><![CDATA[Angeline]]></googleplay:author><itunes:block><![CDATA[Yes]]></itunes:block><item><title><![CDATA[the ending i never see]]></title><description><![CDATA[dream log #1]]></description><link>https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/p/the-ending-i-never-see</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/p/the-ending-i-never-see</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Angeline]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Wed, 22 Jul 2026 12:28:28 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/3533f602-e315-4355-bfd6-9d97b7bd7293_1200x675.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="text-align: center;"><em>as i close my eyes, </em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>the sea finds me.</em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>i hear the waves </em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>coming closer and closer. </em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>but before it reaches me,</em></p><p style="text-align: center;"><em>morning does.</em></p><p>for as long as i can remember, this has been the ending to one of the most vivid dreams i have ever had. it never begins the same way. sometimes i&#8217;m standing on a quiet beach. other times i&#8217;m walking through an some kind of apocalyptic city or an uncomfortably quiet liminal space. everything feels strangely calm until i notice it.</p><p>a wave.</p><p>it seems distant, then it grows.</p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe now&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="/__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/subscribe"><span>Subscribe now</span></a></p><p>it towers over everything around it. the water churns with a force i can&#8217;t describe. it is not just a wave anymore, it feels alive, as though it has chosen me.</p><p>seeing how i couldn&#8217;t stand against it, i stayed calm. accepting there&#8217;s no way to escape. </p><p>yet the wave continues to race toward me.</p><p>closer.</p><p>closer.</p><p>closer.</p><p>the roar fills the air until there is nothing else to hear. i brace myself, waiting for the moment the water crashes over me.</p><p>but it never does.</p><p>the silence of my room replaces the roar of the ocean. my heart starts pounding, breathing&#8217;s uneven. released a big sigh of relief, reminding myself that it was only a dream.</p><p>yet it never feels like <em>only</em> a dream.</p><p>each time it returns, the details remain almost the same, the stillness before the storm, the growing rumble, and the moment before impact. </p><p>i never find out what happens next because i always wake up before the wave can reach me.</p><p>i am left wondering what the dream refuses to show me. would the wave have swept me away? would i have survived? would i have found the courage to stand my ground? would i have been swallowed by something far greater than myself?</p><p>i&#8217;ll never know.</p><p>the story is interrupted every single time, leaving me with nothing but questions. the wave never reaches me, yet it never truly leaves me either. </p><p>that&#8217;s what makes the dream so unforgettable.</p><p>it&#8217;s unfinished.</p><p>and every night i close my eyes, a part of me wonders whether i&#8217;ll find myself standing on that shore once again, waiting for an ending that never comes.</p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption"><em>thank you for being here! a wild clover for u&#127808;</em></p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[her soft heart and the safe places it craves ]]></title><description><![CDATA[because even the most generous hearts need a place to rest]]></description><link>https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/p/her-soft-heart-and-the-safe-places</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/p/her-soft-heart-and-the-safe-places</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Angeline]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Sat, 04 Jul 2026 11:51:10 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/2d33cadf-045a-4b93-8512-5bfe2ebf3939_610x502.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>even the most generous hearts need a place to rest, and hers is quietly begging for a safe place of its own. for her, safety isn&#8217;t a cozy room. it is simply the absence of responsibility. it is a sanctuary where she is finally allowed to stop flowing and to just let her waves settle. </p><p>she craves a place where she doesn&#8217;t have to be the solution. she craves a love that looks at her restless tides and a voice that whispers into her deep exhaustion, <em>&#8220;you can stop swimming now, i&#8217;ve got you.&#8221; </em>for once, she wants to soften and be the one who simply drifts without worrying that everything around her will fall apart if she stops giving so much of herself. </p><p>these thoughts are her way of finding a calm place far from the big waves. they are her quiet reminder that her value was never meant to depend on how much she could carry for others. but knowing is not the same as believing. so she keeps swimming, hoping that one day someone will see her tired heart and understand what she has never said out loud. until then, she carries the storm as gently as she can, still wondering what it feels like to finally rest. </p>]]></content:encoded></item><item><title><![CDATA[“what if p*tay na yung dating may-ari ng damit na ‘to?” ]]></title><description><![CDATA[ghosts? maybe. landfills? definitely.]]></description><link>https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/p/what-if-ptay-na-yung-dating-may-ari</link><guid isPermaLink="false">https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/p/what-if-ptay-na-yung-dating-may-ari</guid><dc:creator><![CDATA[Angeline]]></dc:creator><pubDate>Wed, 01 Jul 2026 16:00:57 GMT</pubDate><enclosure url="https://substack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com/public/images/49b9492b-c47d-4a3d-8480-e7b288672a0c_2048x1122.jpeg" length="0" type="image/jpeg"/><content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><span>in filipino culture, there&#8217;s always that lingering, spooky joke when someone buys a good piece of </span><em><span>ukay </span></em><span>clothing:</span></p><p><em><span>&#8220;what if this belonged to a dead person?&#8221;</span></em></p><p><span>culturally, parang conditioned na tayo na matakot sa mga naiwan na gamit ng mga pumanaw na. we worry about spirits, bad luck, or kung may grief ba na nakakapit sa tela o sa bagay.</span></p><p><span>pero if you really think about it, maybe the fear isn&#8217;t actually about ghosts.</span></p><p><span>we live in a world obsessed with ownership and fast fashion, na para bang extension ng identity natin yung mga possessions natin. our clothes become </span><em><span>our</span></em><span> clothes. our things become little pieces of ourselves. kaya siguro ang weird isipin na isuot ang gamit ng ibang tao, especially someone who&#8217;s already gone.</span></p><p><span>at the same time, ang ironic lang kasi we&#8217;re also obsessed with buying more and throwing things away.</span></p><p><span>ang bilis natin ma-trap sa loop ng fast fashion&#8212;buying cheap garments, wearing them once or twice para sa ig post, tapos ibabasura o itatapon na agad once may bagong trend na naman sa tiktok. we keep piling clothes hanggang hindi na kasya sa cabinet, o sa katawan (can&#8217;t relate... mostly).</span></p><p>brands release dozens&#8212;even hundreds&#8212;of new styles every week, making trends expire almost as quickly as they appear. the goal isn&#8217;t for us to wear clothes until they wear out. it&#8217;s to make us feel like we always need something new.</p><p>the result? according to Ellen MacArthur Foundation, the equivalent of <strong>one garbage truck full of textiles is landfilled or burned every single second.</strong> and according to UNEP, less than <strong>1% of clothing materials are recycled into new garments.</strong></p><p>it means that the fashion industry is producing far more clothing than can be sustainably managed after use. instead of being reused or recycled into new garments, most discarded textiles end up in landfills or are incinerated, contributing to pollution, greenhouse gas emissions, and the unnecessary loss of valuable resources. with less than 1% of clothing materials being recycled into new clothing, the majority of fabrics are effectively wasted, highlighting the urgent need for more sustainable production and consumption practices.</p><p>that&#8217;s a pretty depressing ending for something that was only worn twice.</p><p><span>and while we&#8217;re busy chasing the next item collection, we ignore the devastating environmental cost. the clothes that end up in landfills every single year, many of them are made from synthetic materials like polyester that can take hundreds of years to break down. </span>most people also don&#8217;t realize that around 60% of the clothes sold today are made from synthetic fibers like polyester. since polyester is basically plastic, every wash releases tiny microfibers into rivers and oceans. scientists estimate that textiles contribute around 9% of the microplastics entering the ocean each year.</p><p>i&#8217;m a little more concerned about the plastic sweater that will still be around centuries after we&#8217;re gone.</p><p><span>ironically, mas natatakot pa tayo magsuot ng damit na dating pag-aari ng isang taong namatay kesa sa bundok ng basurang maiiwan natin pagkatapos nating mamatay.</span></p><p><span>pero death is the ultimate reminder that we are only temporary caretakers of the things we own. lahat ng &#8216;to hindi mo madadala sa hukay, ika nga nila.</span></p><p><span>nothing is ever really ours. </span></p><p>maybe we&#8217;ve forgotten that ownership has always been temporary.</p><p>that dining table probably belonged to another family before yours. your favorite novel probably passed through dozens of hands before it reached a bookstore or library. even heirlooms aren&#8217;t really &#8220;owned&#8221; forever&#8212;they&#8217;re simply passed along.</p><p>ganun din yung mga damit natin.</p><p>we&#8217;re just borrowing them for a while.</p><p><span>our clothes had a life before us, and if we&#8217;re lucky, they&#8217;ll have a life after us too.</span></p><p><span>when you think about it this way, a thrift pile isn&#8217;t just a bunch of old clothes. it&#8217;s a second chance. buying or donating used clothes is the ultimate middle finger to fast fashion. instead of ending up forgotten in a landfill, a piece of clothing gets to keep doing what it was made to do: be worn.</span></p><p><span>let&#8217;s go back to the question.</span></p><p><em><span>&#8220;what if this belonged to a dead person?&#8221;</span></em></p><p><span>well...</span></p><p><span>what if it did?</span></p><p><span>if we strip away the superstition and look at the question honestly, the answers aren&#8217;t terrifying at all.</span></p><p><span>if that vintage jacket belonged to someone who passed away, it means </span><em><strong><span>it survived.</span></strong></em><span> in a world of disposable fast fashion that falls apart after three washes, </span><em><span>that piece was made to last.</span></em></p><p><span>that midi skirt may have been worn to someone&#8217;s favorite concert. maybe that knitted sweater kept someone warm during late-night commutes. maybe those boots walked through cities i&#8217;ll never see. maybe that dress was worn on a birthday, a beach trip, or an ordinary tuesday that ended up becoming someone&#8217;s favorite memory.</span></p><p><span>the faded fabric are not signs that something is haunted. they&#8217;re proof that </span><em><span>something was loved enough to be lived in.</span></em></p><p><span>that&#8217;s quite beautiful.</span></p><p><span>so if someone asks,</span></p><p><em><span>&#8220;what if patay na yung dating may-ari ng damit na &#8216;yan?&#8221;</span></em></p><p><span>i&#8217;d probably say,</span></p><p><em><span>&#8220;okay lang.&#8221;</span></em></p><p><span>and honestly?</span></p><p><span>if i die someday, and my clothes end up getting donated to someone who actually needs them or will genuinely wear them...</span></p><p><strong><span>i wouldn&#8217;t mind. i swear.</span></strong></p><p><span>i don&#8217;t want my favorite midi skirt sitting inside a plastic storage box, or slowly rotting in a landfill just because people are afraid of where it came from.</span></p><p><span>i&#8217;d rather someone find it in a thrift shop, bargain for it, wear it until it fades, and make it part of their own story.</span></p><p><span>my life will end someday.</span></p><p><span>hopefully, my clothes won&#8217;t have to.</span></p><p></p><p></p><div class="subscription-widget-wrap-editor" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/subscribe?&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Subscribe&quot;,&quot;language&quot;:&quot;en&quot;}" data-component-name="SubscribeWidgetToDOM"><div class="subscription-widget show-subscribe"><div class="preamble"><p class="cta-caption">thank u for being here! a wild clover for u .&#127808; &#1857;&#726;&#3864;&#8902;</p></div><form class="subscription-widget-subscribe"><input type="email" class="email-input" name="email" placeholder="Type your email&#8230;" tabindex="-1"><input type="submit" class="button primary" value="Subscribe"><div class="fake-input-wrapper"><div class="fake-input"></div><div class="fake-button"></div></div></form></div></div><div class="captioned-image-container"><figure><a class="image-link image2 is-viewable-img" target="_blank" href="/__u/substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Jdhp!,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7836c3a6-cba6-4e78-a559-032f30ac72d8_1200x701.jpeg" data-component-name="Image2ToDOM"><div class="image2-inset"><picture><source type="image/webp" srcset="/__u/substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Jdhp!, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/w_424, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/c_limit, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/f_webp, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/q_auto:good, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7836c3a6-cba6-4e78-a559-032f30ac72d8_1200x701.jpeg 424w, /__u/substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Jdhp!, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/w_848, 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/__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7836c3a6-cba6-4e78-a559-032f30ac72d8_1200x701.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw"><img src="/__u/substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Jdhp!,w_1456,c_limit,f_auto,q_auto:good,fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7836c3a6-cba6-4e78-a559-032f30ac72d8_1200x701.jpeg" width="1200" height="701" 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/__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/q_auto:good, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7836c3a6-cba6-4e78-a559-032f30ac72d8_1200x701.jpeg 424w, /__u/substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Jdhp!, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/w_848, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/c_limit, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/f_auto, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/q_auto:good, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7836c3a6-cba6-4e78-a559-032f30ac72d8_1200x701.jpeg 848w, /__u/substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Jdhp!, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/w_1272, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/c_limit, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/f_auto, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/q_auto:good, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7836c3a6-cba6-4e78-a559-032f30ac72d8_1200x701.jpeg 1272w, /__u/substackcdn.com/image/fetch/$s_!Jdhp!, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/w_1456, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/c_limit, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/f_auto, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/q_auto:good, /__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/fl_progressive:steep/https%3A%2F%2Fsubstack-post-media.s3.amazonaws.com%2Fpublic%2Fimages%2F7836c3a6-cba6-4e78-a559-032f30ac72d8_1200x701.jpeg 1456w" sizes="100vw" loading="lazy"></picture><div class="image-link-expand"><div class="pencraft pc-display-flex pc-gap-8 pc-reset"><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container restack-image"><svg aria-hidden="true" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 20 20" fill="none" stroke-width="1.5" stroke="var(--color-fg-primary)" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg"><g><path d="M2.53001 7.81595C3.49179 4.73911 6.43281 2.5 9.91173 2.5C13.1684 2.5 15.9537 4.46214 17.0852 7.23684L17.6179 8.67647M17.6179 8.67647L18.5002 4.26471M17.6179 8.67647L13.6473 6.91176M17.4995 12.1841C16.5378 15.2609 13.5967 17.5 10.1178 17.5C6.86118 17.5 4.07589 15.5379 2.94432 12.7632L2.41165 11.3235M2.41165 11.3235L1.5293 15.7353M2.41165 11.3235L6.38224 13.0882"></path></g></svg></button><button tabindex="0" type="button" class="pencraft pc-reset pencraft icon-container view-image"><svg xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2000/svg" width="20" height="20" viewBox="0 0 24 24" fill="none" stroke="currentColor" stroke-width="2" stroke-linecap="round" stroke-linejoin="round" class="lucide lucide-maximize2 lucide-maximize-2"><polyline points="15 3 21 3 21 9"></polyline><polyline points="9 21 3 21 3 15"></polyline><line x1="21" x2="14" y1="3" y2="10"></line><line x1="3" x2="10" y1="21" y2="14"></line></svg></button></div></div></div></a></figure></div><div><hr></div><p><em>song of the day: Kisapmata by Rivermaya</em></p><p><em>&#127925; ukay-bilis naman mag laho ng pag-ibig mo sinta &#127926;~ </em></p><div><hr></div><p><em>reference:</em></p><p><span>United Nations Environment Programme. (2019, March 13). </span><em>Fashion's tiny hidden secret</em><span>. </span><a href="https://www.unep.org/news-and-stories/story/fashions-tiny-hidden-secret">https://www.unep.org/news-and-stories/story/fashions-tiny-hidden-secret </a></p><p><span>Ellen MacArthur Foundation. (n.d.). </span><em>Fashion</em><span>. </span><a href="https://www.ellenmacarthurfoundation.org/topics/fashion/overview">https://www.ellenmacarthurfoundation.org/topics/fashion/overview</a></p><p class="button-wrapper" data-attrs="{&quot;url&quot;:&quot;https://bioncoboopsie.substack.com/p/what-if-ptay-na-yung-dating-may-ari?utm_source=substack&utm_medium=email&utm_content=share&action=share&quot;,&quot;text&quot;:&quot;Share&quot;,&quot;action&quot;:null,&quot;class&quot;:null}" data-component-name="ButtonCreateButton"><a class="button primary" href="/__u/bioncoboopsie.substack.com/p/what-if-ptay-na-yung-dating-may-ari?utm_source=substack&amp;utm_medium=email&amp;utm_content=share&amp;action=share"><span>Share</span></a></p><p></p>]]></content:encoded></item></channel></rss>