Writing Portfolio by Beatrice Molina

WRITING PORTFOLIO

BY BEATRICE MOLINA

JJ EXPRESS SERVICES

WEBSITE CONTENT

As Singapore's leading third party logistics provider, JJ Express wanted to revamp its online presence with an easily accessible website that lays out the company's unique approach to logistics services.

link to website >>>

WALLPAPERS.COM

SEO CONTENT

As part of TLLCM,OPC'S team of Virtual Assistant Content Writers for Wallpapers.com, my main objective is to write SEO friendly titles and descriptions for wallpapers available on the website for it to be among the first results to appear on google images.

link to website >>>

KEYWORD

Julio Cesar Chavez

TITLE

Young Julio Cesar Chavez

DESCRIPTION

A black and white photograph of a young Julio Cesar Chavez leaning by a ring's corner in his white boxer shorts and shoes during a match.

THE GAMING HOUSE

VOD SCRIPT & STORY

For Tier One Entertainment's first online reality show called "The Gaming House" I wrote various scripts and storylines for the shows' daily video content uploaded onto iWantTFC and Youtube.

"SKETCHY STORIES"

link to full script | link to full video

"FOOD FOR THOUGHT"

link to full script | link to full video

"POWER UP CARD"

link to full script | link to full video

OTHER PROJECTS

FREELANCE

Included in this section are the various written works I've done for different companies and people.

GRAVEL BIKE TVC

An

Advertisement Project Directed by Kiko Enriquez

Spoken Word by Beatrice Molina

It has come to this The overwhelming abandon Of my gutless wonder Crippling, cruel, unbearable

I’ve been there

Crushed by the weight of my unrest Stuck in the absence of peace

Stuck in the void of the peace I’ve lost

That yearning for something, anything, It’s chaos.

Yet, for everything that’s lost, A chance to find rises

For the world’s too vast for emptiness Too wide not to seek

It’s calling, Mount the detours, Challenge the crossroads, Tread the trails

For that echo, That spectacle, That feeling, The glorious chase, It’s out there.

You only have to begin.

HAPPY SPACES

Written for CIC KICKOFF EVENT 2022: CMPI History Rewind Video

Lyrics by Beatrice Molina

Yo listen all, I have a story

About CIC, no, you won’t be sorry

Let’s go back through the years, yeah, ika’y sumama

Tara, bumalik, saan ba galing ang ligaya

Started with one man, his name’s Jose yeah

At 62, CII’s ‘boutta change yeah

Got the Carrier, then few years later

At 77, got’a license for Kelvinator

At meron pa, ten years later, Condura, became a brand we offer

Yeah at ’92 and ’98

Arrived at Cabuyao

Great factories got made

Just a year back, CAC was formed

Plus there’s more

Two branches got transformed

Naging CCAC

At ‘di natapos ‘don

Now it’s 2012

CIC became one

Happy spaces, just for you

Better everyday

Take this mission and vision

And create happy days

Happy faces from spaces

Every Juan is the way

We’re one CIC yeah, we’re bound to make

Happy spaces

SAMA-SAMA TAYO CIC

Startegic Events for Conception Industrial Corporation

Spoken Word by Beatrice Molina

Together, we’ll continue moving forward. We’ve proven that nothing can stand in our way. We’ll paint the world a better place, and face tomorrow with a smile on our face.

We’ve changed.

We’ve learned. In an instant, we had to practice surrender In it, much of what we knew turned into a blur

At sa isang iglap, nanahimik ang ating pailigid at tila tumigil ang mundo

Maraming lumisan, maraming nawalan, maraming nasaktan at nahirapan.

At sa gitna ng pagbabago, nabalot tayo ng takot.

The distance between all of us grew, we found the unknown, filling the spaces we knew. Yesterday seemed so far away, and tomorrow seemed to miss hope.

When isolation turned even ourselves into strangers, it made it harder to cope.

Lahat ay nagbago.

Ngunit, sa pagbabagong ito, unti-unti, ibang lakas ang nahanap mo.

In isolation you found individual growth, and grasped the chance to know yourself better.

You saw the world stop, so you worked day and night to help it come to life again.

“strong” became you.

PEDRO PASAHERO

Aardvark Productions Film

Cinemalaya Nespresso Vertical Shorts (2018)

Story by Beatrice Molina

EXT: Carinderia - Day

Makikita si Pedrong naka upo at nakatulala ng biglang susulpot sa likod nito ang naka babata nyang kapatid na nag mamakaawa.

ANDREA

Kuya kuya nagugutom na ako. (lalabas sa harapan)

ANDREA

Kuya kuya masasamahan mo ba akong bumili ng books? (lalabas sa kanan)

ANDREA

Kuya si nanay inuubo nanaman. Wala ng gamot sa cabinet (lalabas sa kaliwa)

Bigla itong gugulatin ng kaibigan niya at tila maglalaho ang lahat

DOY

Oi lalim ng iniisip mo ah! Ano? Handa ka na ba?

PEDRO

Teka lang, eh dala mo ba?

DOY

Oo naman ako pa! (maglalabas ng paperbag sa kanyang shoulder bag)

PEDRO

Ayun naman pala eh! (sabay itatago sa kanyang shoulder bag)

DOY

Oh basta mag iingat ka ah!

A screenplay adaptation of "Mayday Eve" by Nick Joaquin

By Beatrice Molina

INT. AGUEDA’S BATHROOM – NIGHT

Makikitang pinaliliguan ni Anastasia sa batya si Agueda.

AGUEDA

Gaano kadalas ito? Baka ayaw na sa akin ng mga

lalaki dahil madumi...

ANASTASIA

Ang pag-ibig ay mas nagbubunga sa dugong iyan maniwala ka. Ganap ka nang dalaga ano pa bang

hihilingin nila?

AGUEDA

Pwede bang magtalik-

ANASTASIA

Kapag mayroon? Hindi. Kapag wala? Puwede. Pero delikado. Mawawala iyan ng siyam na buwan at saka lang darating kasama ang anak mo.

AGUEDA

Gusto ko...

ANASTASIA

Asawa muna...

AGUEDA

Paano ko ba makikita?

Aalis si Agueda sa batya, susuotin ang kanyang tuwalya. Susundan siya ni Anastasia ngunit pipilitin ng dalaga na kaya na niya ang sarili niya. Pupunta si Anastasia sa batya upang linisin ang pinagliguan ni Agueda.

POEMS & ESSAYS

Included in this section are samples of creative writing pieces I made for my personal archive.

BASAG ANG PULA

Awit sa panunulat ni Beatrice Molina

Maamong kordero ang tingin nila sa’yo

Puring-puri ang busilak mong puso

Ngunit hindi maitatago ang ahas sa loob

Sikreto mo’y malalaman din itaga mo sa bato

Bilin ng nanay mo’y ikrus mo sa iyong noo

Naikus ba sa noo?

Baka nalimutan mo

Bukal sa puso ang pakikitungo

Mga parahuyo

Iyong ngiti palabas lamang

Isang kwentong kutsero

Hindi ito totoo

Maitim ang budhi mo

Maitim ang budhi mo

Matakot ka basag ang pula

Baka malaman nila

Basa na ang papel

Iyong kasalanan

Iyo bang pagsisisihan o pilit tataksan?

A HOE'S CONVERSATION WITH GOD

A poem in three parts by

PART 1

Beatrice Molina

PART 2

Dear god of all things beautiful and pure I have made the decision not to be

As beautiful and pure

Dear god of credence

All I ask Is for you to do your job

For the confusion and the indecision?

It’s hell now!

Yet, you said

That only comes in the end

Why punish me for being human

Why take away my right for sin

Why protect me when it’s the fire I seek

When I was born, Was I, that reserved for heaven?

Gifted only the almost of everything

But never the very thing?

It’s been done before and many times after Don’t tell me Eve was that traumatic

You’re god for god’s sake

You know what would happen

Still, all I ask is for a ticket to hell

Just this time

Sitting in the hands of this damned angel

The one you sent

The one you brewed

The one who wouldn’t follow through

Let the sighing begin

The angels fought hard enough

To bring me here

In my knees

I let god rest

I let him protect me

And,

In the name of the people who love us

In the name of something real

In the name of all things beautiful and pure

Here goes my sins, Full stop.

PART 3

I feel righteous for praying to you For spending my sweet time

Urging you to do the right thing

Even though you always do

I feel righteous I feel owed I feel better than you

And for this reason, I almost feel my prayers All of it Being written on paper Only to be scrunched up and thrown away Just a pile of wishes waiting to be set on fire

This is the price I pay For praying for you and to you

Even the holiest would agree That my hell must keep burning And I with it, By your loving decree

AN OPEN LETTER TO MY DEAD GRANDPARENTS

An essay by Beatrice Molina

I have long adapted and accepted Michael Schur’s system of the afterlife–the existence of a “good place” and a “bad place” as sorting centers for dead souls awaiting judgment--as the afterlife.

Since then, I have wondered how you have been doing.

There are stories about your rage and your temper, and I imagine it could be a little harder for you to contain it all in pretend good places. Perhaps you have said a million bad words by now, possibly yelled at a demon or two. I’m sure they’re testing you real good and you’re giving both the little devils and angels quite a good show.

But who knows, some time has passed.

Perhaps by now you’ve made it through the pretend good place after you’ve found your way and learned slowly to uncover all the love you are capable of–the kind that I can attest to here on Earth because I have once felt it. I have savored it in the form of a sugary buttered toast you have loved making for me when I was little. I have heard it in the way you say my nickname in between the tiny moments we shared together.

Maybe you’ve proven how capable of the right love you are, the kind capable of transformation there in the afterlife.

And all this is because you’ve met Minda, the love of your life who came to the afterlife's sorting center of good and bad people to be tested just as you are. I have never found it in me to worry about her, not the way I worry about you. She has always been a good mortal soul as your wife and my grandmother. She’s funny and quirky, she loves to tease you, she’s kind, she makes killer meals…you know, you were great together!

Although I always think about how cruel the tests to find out if you deserved heaven must be. Perhaps lola went through as much hell before she found you too, but I would love to believe that your ticket to the real good place (A.K.A. heaven) has always been each other. You have always been meant to be together. Together, you were simply the realest love I have ever seen; the only standing reason why I believe in love still.

I’d love to think that you’re both happier than you have ever been, meeting the best versions of people you’ve known and haven’t alike as the best version of yourselves.

Again, who knows.

This is all my human brain in its grief can make out of what’s left. This is just being mortals holding on to other mortals’ trying to make sense of heaven and hell as we all wish not to overstep God’s mightiness in our venture.

You could be vapor, you could be the shards of glass I just swept, you could be the cold morning air, you could be nothing at all.

Yet my heart tells me that a year after you both left us, you’re somewhere good. Peaceful, finally. Maybe exchanging your favorite snacks, drinking anything you want, playing with puppies, enjoying eternity together.

I’d like to believe that that’s the case, and even if it isn't, I still wish you’re both alright.

GILIW AKO'Y PAGAL...NGUNIT, IKAW BA?

An essay by Beatrice Molina

Giliw,

Pagal ang aking buong pagkatao. Naglakbay nang sadamakmak na kilometro para lamang mahulog sa karumaldumal na tinik ng oras at tadhana. Nilaban ko ang daan patungo rito, sapagkat iyon lamang ang alam ng katawan kong ipinanganak upang lumaban. Ngunit, ito tayo, sa pagitan ng sukdol na kadiliman at mga parusang hindi mawari kung paano at bakit napasaakin.

Hindi naman nagkulang sa paalala. Daan-daang sitas na naayon sa pananamlataya ang kinabisa’t isinapuso noon pa man.

Kabutihan ang tanging sandata.

Iyon ang sabi nila. Kabutihan sa kapwa, sa paligid, sa sarili. Ngunot, andito pa rin ako. Naparito nang hindi ko namamalayan. Bakit kaya? Paano?

Sa ngayo’y ngalan ko’y instrumento ng kalungkutan, kaakibat na nito ang dagatdagatang pait, at kaunti pang paglipas ng mga araw na hindi hinahaplos ng luningning, ako ay tuluyan nang malulunod.

Hindi naman ako bago sa karimlan. Marami nang sandali ang nadatnan ko kung saan ito’y tila isa nang kaibigan. Datapway matulis ang kuko’t dila’y magaspang, nahahanap ko ang dala nitong mga aral.

Kaibigan, sa panahon ngayo’y mahirap na akong maging kaibigan, dahil ako na ata ang karimlan. Lahat ng aral na mula sa kahapo’y pilit pumiglas sa aking bisig at isip. At ngayon, pighati na lamang ang kilala ng aking wika.

Giliaw, ako’y pagal. Ngunit, ikaw ba? Kumusta?

Matagal na mula nang huli kong nasambit ang iyong ngalan nang ika’y makasasagot. Naririnig mo ba sa tuwing ang aking mga buntong hiniga’y tinatawag ka mula sa mga espasyong iniwan ng aking mga nawala? O wala?

‘Di bale, sa dami ng inaalala, image ng iyong paglisan ang humehele sa akin sa pagsapit ng kadiliman. Paminsan-minsa’y ikaw noong dapit-hapon ang tanging liwanag ko sa mga sandaling katulad nito. Sa mga matatamis na ala-ala kung saan ang mundo’y hindi pa umiikot nang may pag-iingat nakasasalay ang bawat hininga ko.

Ngunit sa aking hapis, mga alala’y nauubos din. Napapalitan ng realidad na wala ka na sa aking piling. At ang kawalan, na siya na ngang pumapalibot sa ating kalawakan ay hindi na sigurado, paano pa maatim nang payapa.

Pagal. Sa pagtatapos ng matagal na laban ay iyon na lamang ako.

Sa panahon ngayo’y may mga kadenang nakatali sa ating mga bukong-bukog. Lahat ay biktima ng sari-sariling mga palag. Mga nilalang na nadatnan nang hindi handa, mga magsisimula sana, magsisimulang muli, mga pagal nang magsimula.