Mátulain: How "Penitence" Turned Into "Intent"
Let me tell you a story about the last single I released before I stopped making music.
Mátulain is not just a series focusing on my poetry—instead, it follows my continuing love story with the art.
In 2017, my friend Reilly (a.k.a. StratosFear) and I released “Intent.” I didn’t know back then that it would be the last song I’d release. Here’s a Spotify link for the curious:
To be fair, I still don’t know if it’s the last A Problem Like Maria song ever. It’s just the last song so far.
Appreciating Good Intentions
The months leading to the release of this song were some of my worst. I’d just lost my dream job and had finally made a painful decision that I’d been putting off for years. I said, “Yes, let’s move to the U.S. and leave the Philippines behind”—even though my entire family was in Manila, along with everything and everyone else I knew and loved.
We weren’t actually able to move until 2019 due to paperwork, but that just meant that the trauma of having to vocalize and live with that choice was spread over two years. Because we decided not to build a life in the Philippines, I couldn’t take jobs that would require more than six-month contracts. I started working from home and sidelined a career path that I could have easily followed after being the content head of a music publication.
All this backstory to explain this: I was depressed. I didn’t know it then but darkness was excruciating and ever-present. Making music didn’t fill me with the same joy I used to feel.
“Intent” wasn’t even a new song. It was created from a demo I’d recorded years before. StratosFear took my raw material, worked his usual magic—I don’t use the term lightly here as he’s also responsible for my most successful song ever—and turned in a masterpiece.
Here’s the thing: He made the song sound different. He made me sound different. I’m going to be honest here and admit that I didn’t know how to feel about the final track when I listened to it for the first time. It didn’t sound like A Problem Like Maria—but honestly, it’s probably what I needed it to be at that moment.
At the time, I barely knew who I was without the depression that weighed me down. Would I even recognize my true voice if I heard it? The more I replayed the track, the more it grew on me. Now, “Intent” is one of my favorites. Thanks, Reilly.
Understanding the Need for Penitence
One of the biggest differences—from demo to final track—that I had a hand in was the title change.
When I first wrote “Penitent,” I was going through exactly what you’d infer from the title—sadness, regret, repentance. You can hear my brokenness in the demo:
The original version of the song was as good as a goodbye. I was hopeless and could not imagine a resolution that would include anything close to me being okay. But the song is just a snapshot. Of course, the situation was bigger than that moment. I moved past hopelessness—but the song didn’t.
It stayed unchanged until StratosFear got his hands on it and removed this part from the lyrics:
I wonder if he'll hear my apologies.
Will he ever be at peace at all with me?
No I never, never meant to break him so.
And I never, I never wanted to let him go—
but now he must, now he must go.
It's better for him to go.
Without this very dramatique part, it felt less like penitence and more like intent—and so we changed the title.
It’s interesting how much something can change with just one added perspective. How many things that you believe right now could be affected by healthy discourse or simply more information provided? I know I never imagined “Penitent” would ever sound like “Intent” does.
Moving Past “Intent”
You might be wondering why I decided to talk about this song. Music’s been on my mind lately, and I’ve been assessing and reassessing why I can’t seem to get back into creating new songs.
I always tell people that I stopped when my dad died, but it stopped way before that. I’d sing—in the shower or in my head or under my breath—but I wouldn’t write anything down. After dad died I just stopped singing altogether.
There’s something about making music that must bring up trauma in me. No matter how long I sit with myself and walk in the dark, though, I can’t confront this shadow. It just eludes me. It’s a type of creative block that seems insurmountable.
Recently I’ve been wondering if simply releasing everything that I’ve built up over the years—raw demos, phone recordings, unfinished collaborations—would do the trick.
Maybe all I need is a clean slate—a way to let go of the feelings of “not enough-ness” that stopped me from sharing these tracks years ago. Maybe I’m no longer see myself as A Problem Like Maria because I’m not wondering why I ever called myself a problem in the first place.
Until I solve the mystery of this ambivalence toward music-making, I’m doing the next best thing: writing about it. They say writing is therapy, after all. And we’re learning as we go along!
For example: With “Intent,” I learned that even structural change can be good—that just because something isn’t what you expected doesn’t mean you get to discredit or dismiss it. Even if it’s not what you would have done, other approaches can be valid and even better.
Thanks for coming along for the ride. If you happen to like another song of mine, let me know and I’ll get around to creating an origin story post for it, too.
If you’ve enjoyed reading this or something else I’ve written, please consider buying me a coffee. ☕ Thank you!