Because Summer is Coming To A Close

The summer heat will be but a memory and the allure of absolute freedom will cease to exist. Although the summer heat will still be apparent, it will radiate towards the walls of my new 'home'. Welcome me back, ARSA! There is a difference sweating in Paranaque and in the wonderful land of the Ateneo. May it be said that sweating inside the university every day is a privilege only a few experience. Ha! (And an air conditioned classroom is plain luck) Take that for perspective. I bid goodbye to summer.

I have entertained myself with 55 movie titles varying from the melodramatic to the likes of Monty Python. It was fun to view the movies with a more critical eye and the criticality of my views improved after every film. At least I think so. I was awakened to the slums of Rio de Janiero (City of God by Meirelles) and the older demon-themed horror films (like Rosemary's Baby by Polanski. I will check out the Exorcist eventually). The incoming year will prevent me from viewing my Kubrick, von Trier, Lang and all the other directors I have cherished in the short 2 and a half months I have already spent. It will leave me to wallow.

Swimming and driving are a few of the many things I have learned in the season. I have learned, yes. I now have the liberty to check that off my list. Though I have had fits of boredom (they were strong fits at that), the summer was productive as a whole. I can drive a manual and automatic car but am more proficient with the latter. I can swim in different styles. I looked through several good reads. I took a bite out of Fyodor Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment. I experienced the grandeur of Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby (which will be made into a movie soon starring my darling Leonardo di Caprio). My nose bled to Melville's epic, Moby Dick. I have finished almost a hundred Sudoku puzzles. The list shall go on. Do not get me started on the good TV shows I have come across.

There, approximately 1440 hours in a few paragraphs.

Drugs: True Blood and Breaking Bad

The process of drug addiction is very simple. It begins with the intake of drugs. Then the euphoria kicks in. After which, the body craves for more. If the druggie's body absolutely requires the next dosage, it will start withdrawal. The ending of the process is entirely up to the addict with a plausible death toll wavering its flag at the end of the finish line. Like a foot race. How morbid.

Why the hurry?

Similar to crystal meth and heroin, I have had extreme doses of True Blood (HBO). This three-seasoned (and a fourth coming this June) genius by 'the' Alan Ball has created a great state of high and now I am in withdrawal. It is the television adaptation of the Sookie Stachouse novels by Charlaine Harris following Sookie Stackhouse and how she copes with the supernatural beings that surround her in a playing field of vampires that seek equal rights with humans.

Because no official promotional poster is
available yet.

Though I have not read a novel of Harris' series, I do say that the television counterpart is outstanding. It is pregnant with allegories and metaphors pertaining to the discrimination of minorities. It also showcases ideas on several grounds such as the nature of an individual. Technicality-wise (but let me be brief), the cast is ensemble; even the extras. The style of narration is simple. Every single aspect of the show is strategic and gripping. All these points rise it above other vampire-related media at present. If you think of the series as a whole, it is sexy (damn straight) and addicting. June 26 is but a mile away and I shall satisfy myself with the equally sexy teasers and trailers.

I would post a racy pic of Eric Northman but I think
this suffices the portrayal of "sexiness".

Speaking of drugs and drug addiction, a show comes to mind: Breaking Bad (AMC; produces a lot of good stuff like The Walking Dead and Mad Men). Compared to True Blood, it has excellent cinematic camera work and the script is better written (True Blood compensates, though, with vivid imagery and multidimensional characters whereas Breaking Bad is focused on a few; leaving several useful characters dry). Imagine a Chemistry genius who incorporates his knowledge into the drug realm by creating the purest crystal meth. His motives for which are noble. Also, we see how he evolves from a meek overly-qualified Chemistry teacher who never has had a say in his life to Heisenberg, the sought out "drug lord" of the underworld. The times he is badass on screen is also compelling. I am sure Chuck Palahniuk could write a thing or two about Heisenberg's male aggression.

Smart and kickass.

These are two really good shows. A cornucopia of relevant issues are presented to the viewers. If you are a fan of such things like myself, go ahead, take a dosage and we shall experience euphoria together. (Hippie)

As for this, well, some other time.

Paranoia

I can feel the world ending and this is no foresight nor a prediction. In fact, this is one of those sporadic moments wherein one gets paranoid and fears the duration of his or her existence. Because I have only felt this queer eerie feeling right now, I shall proceed to expressing my sentiments.

1. Do not blame me for my rather "messed up" philosophy. I maybe nihilist most of the time and the meaning of life escapes me but that is because I find that belief far more plausible than any other ideology, existence-wise and religion-wise. All my other beliefs are aligned to this. I am not communist but I am quite close to it --minus the freedom part; I believe in freedom. I wish that we all could be willing to contribute to the survival of every individual. We all do not know what awaits at the end of our lifetime. I am selfish at this though. I fear my end just like everybody else and I would be far more appeased if I were to end in oblivion.

2. As of this moment, you mean a lot to me.

3. I am just another messed up person. Do not expect any thing from me. I feel pressure. So much pressure. And most of it is inflicted on myself.

4. Forgive me. I am the worst person in the world. :(

...

Thoughts on May 20, 2011 Around 2AM

I am writing this blog against my own will. I have no raw material: no "thoughts of the day". No themes. Free writing is what the meticulous High School English teachers would call this process. As  I am writing, I will review my thoughts and probably type a couple in this intimidatingly blank space.

I believe that this summer has changed something inside of me. I hate vagueness like that but it feels so real. I feel the freedom and it has been assigned to me. See the paradox? Because I have now earned the abilities to drive and to swim, I feel more empowered. Empowerment is good. This whole summer was empowering. Last summer was a downer and albeit the Murakami books contributed to this. I cannot believe how passionate I suddenly became about uneasiness and the *true* human suffering (both are major issues tackled by Murakami). That somehow affected my whole school year. Now that sucked and made it so nonstrategic in every single "-wise" imaginable. Do not get me wrong. Reading something Murakami is enlightening and at times emotionally grappling but do be warned that after the task will you be semi-schizo or extremely mindfucked. It would be an experience you won't soon forget.

I have been watching True Blood again and it has been devouring me limb by limb. I watch the Season 4 trailer then suddenly I recap myself with the previous seasons. Darn! I wish it were June 27 already. I'd say June 26 but I blame the World Clock. I absolutely cannot wait any longer. I've counted the months with the withdrawal syndrome and finally the reality of Season 4 is so within my reach, I feel like I can touch the moon. I have a month of waiting left. Waiting SUCKS.

Urgent.

Lonely.

Eaten up.

An ad won't do bad right now. But that would be too pathetic.

What hurts the most is that

You don't even know me.

(New style. Don't feel like posting long)

A Contract? Might As Well Hold'Em.

A stream of topics cross my mind right now: Sudoku, Gilmore Girls, Fitzgerald and relationships. I do not understand how these four managed to make it to my mind amid the clutter and compel me to write a blog about them. I will coup them and highlight on something more particular.

Gilmore Girls has taken my attention for several weeks now and I do say that the attention will not die shortly. Episodes 16 and 18 of the second season have tidbits which I found rather poignant. If you follow the plot (and I warn you that if you haven't then this would be a massive spoiler), Dean and Rory have been in a relationship for two seasons now with a brief breakup in between. A new kid enters town and Lorelai disapproves of him because he is a bad boy and therefore is not the suitable companion for her angel daughter, Rory. Rory then befriends the new kid Jess and finds out that they have a lot in common. This friendliness springs insecurity in Dean. Dean then goes through this stage which one in the Filipino society would call "sakal". He pops out of Rory's side. He calls her more than 10 times in 3 hours. All of these absurdities in fear of losing the her.

Holy crap. Eyes start to sparkle. Dean finally admits his insecurities and says "She likes Jess, doesn't she." Then credits. What a disheartening turn of events!

Relationships are so humanly because they safeguard. Security. It assures a person that his/her partner is in fact his/hers. It gives them grounds to ensure each other's emotional stability. It is a contract that doesn't need any paperwork because it is a given fact. That is the very reason why people fear it. Once you say "yes" to a relationship with another person, it is a huge risk if you wish to preserve the very motive for starting one in the first place: love. You could get scared of losing your loved one to another and the relationship could probably be the only thing that binds you together. People could feel trapped and want some space. This usually ends up in heartbreak. Gilmore Girls gives an extremely comprehensive take on relationships: from Luke's blabbing to the extremely heartbreaking insecurity fit of Dean's.

Remember Tom from (500) Days of Summer? He had a need of assurance with his "something" with Summer which turned out to be nothing. Another heartbreaking scene.

(500) Days of Summer. They are just friends. Yeah right.

But do whatever you like. Relationships remind me a lot about Texas Hold'Em Poker. Texas Hold'Em is different from other poker games because you have the "all in" and you can maximize your bets. Also, after the river does not ensure a denouement. You can give your all at the right time with the right cards or give everything and lose and get busted.

Pain, utter pain. Why don't we all just go back to the days when love was just there and relationships and dating were non-existent. What peeves me is how people always pair up "Love and Relationships" in headers of self-help websites.

"You can give your all at the right time with the right cards
or give everything and lose and get busted. "

Jared Padalecki versus Milo Ventimiglia and Summer

You may glare at me in skepticism because of seeming like a hormonal fan girl. To your utter dismay, I am--with great depth and passion. A depth unfathomable to the stereotypical unlike the fast-talking Rory Gilmore. A passion blazing like the fire that made to ashes the Winchester home in Supernatural. Both are worth the mentioning in the first part of this post. I will not enumerate the parts though.

It feels gay all of a sudden..They were both so
much cuter 8 years ago

Supernatural and Gilmore Girls have one thing in common: Jared Padalecki. (I wish he had his newly-legal-aged hair back). This is not supposed to catalyze a squealing moment. I was introduced to this relation because of watching the latter and by finishing a full season of the former, I can tell you that I did not regret anything.

Supernatural follows brothers Dean Winchester (Jensen Ackles) and Sam Winchester (Jared Padalecki) in their quest to find their father and the demon that killed their mother whilst hunting for supernatural beings to protect others. I do say that the first 12 episodes were blandish and seemed typical American mystery-thriller formula but the overlying plot starts to develop and the brotherly chemistry becomes more tangible. I adore how the creators made such an awesome duo--a hot duo at that (ehem) and am glad at how the series seems to be improving (I haven't watched the more recent seasons yet so I can't judge).

I am out-of-date when it comes to pop culture. I have only started to explore the popular television shows. This explains why I am only at the second season of Gilmore Girls. Thank goodness. After an overly sweet first season, I convinced myself to not destroy my impression of the series. Anyhow, I still watched the second season. A new bibliophile-bad boy character, Jess (Milo Ventimiglia), appears and causes commotion in Stars Hollow. He is also obtrusively trying to woo Rory. This peeves her boyfriend Dean (Jared Padalecki) and causes jealousy, rage and an awesome fist fight. I have read the spoilers and I know what to expect. I should stop doing that. Also, it is only now that I notice how static Dean's character is despite how heavy it is supposed to be. This is something of speculation. Hm..

Enough of my pop culture blabbing.

Summer has been both therapeutic and troublesome. Therapeutic because I have found cathartic hobbies. Troublesome because of several hot heads in my surroundings-myself included. I felt engulfed by some metaphysical gluttonous entity and needed to free myself so I rummaged through the toys we had and found my beloved 500-piece jigsaw puzzle. Hoorah. My mother and I are 30% through with it and we believe that pieces are missing; to my benefit, however, the tedious jigsaw puzzle relieved me. The unearthly head and neck aches made me transfer my attention from the gluttonous entity (by now you should note that I am just entity-ifying an uneasy feeling).

My mother spoiled the novel and told me
that Gatsby was a gigolo. Oh well, the
suspense of learning this in the novel
still stands, I guess.

I am currently reading Fitzgerald's The Great Gatsby, Marquez's 100 Years of Solitude and Melville's Moby Dick. I am juggling these novels because of mood and how I can't seem to concentrate on one book despite my odd ritual of finishing Murakami's Kafka on the Shore a second time and doing it to initiate a momentum. I miss my movies and have been 2 days without them and this is because of my TV series marathons. My summer has some spice in it, at least.

If you've read Kafka on the Shore, you'd know what this
picture entails.

Road Trips and Journeys

"I'm going to paraphrase Thoreau here... rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness... give me truth." - Christopher McCandless ("Into the Wild", Dir. Penn, 2007)

"Into the Wild" follows the 2 year journey of a fresh college graduate named Christopher McCandless who gives up his $24000 savings in order to go forth to the wilderness and find the "truth" that he believes the poisoned civilized society has forgotten. All this inspired by Tolstoy and other favorite writers of his. In this journey to Alaska, he meets several people who change his life and in turn, he changes theirs. Once he reaches Alaska and starves, he realizes that he was far away from what he was actually looking for.

Forgive my vagueness but if I were more specific, I would spoil the good film. I found that a lot of heart was poured into this. First, the very context of the film is compelling: a young man setting out on an adventure for freedom from the poisons of civilization. It is also very insightful and real. Second, the style and direction has a lot of vision and passion and all this is strikingly obvious. Third, it evokes reflection. I now understand why this film is listed in the 1001 Moves You Have To Watch Before You Die.

Somehow I would like to do the same. I would love to take a road trip to nowhere or a journey to a far-off land to breathe the fresh air and just break free from the bars of our overly-developed society--the delusional society with the created fantasies that creates a hell and heaven for particular kinds of people. This could so easily be done if I had the willpower and the knowledge to drive but doing so would be far too idealistic and selfish. I agree with Christopher when he says that experiences are the core of mans' spirit. In lieu of the idealistic adventure, though, I believe that people have their own preferences to take into account and what they want to achieve in their lives. The beauty of life and free will is that we are given the opportunities for direction. Experiences could range from wilderness exploring to purely intellectual activities and I believe we have the choice to pick from this array.

A refreshing trip would not be bad, though. I would like to take a car and just road trip somewhere far away and breathe. Movies like this respond to films like Revolutionary Road and American Beauty. Some people need to step out and just breathe.

With that in mind, let me quote a few lines from Tracy Chapman's Fast Car:

You got a fast car
I want a ticket to anywhere
Maybe we make a deal
Maybe together we can get somewhere  

Anyplace is better
Starting from zero got nothing to lose
Maybe we'll make something
But me myself I got nothing to prove 

I want a ticket to anywhere

I am the kind of person who needs to suck the air in before I could be emotionally functional. And I constantly need that sense of direction and willpower. All of that boils to one thing: leaps of faith. I am sounding like a mixture between a self-help book and an inspirational book.

Let me end with this quote from the movie:

"When you want something in life, you just gotta reach out and grab it." - Christopher McCandless

Fantasies and Kissing Scenes

Our generation of preteens and teenagers who are inexperienced in the area of love and relationships are immersed into this dream. This hard-hitting fantasy of guys running after trains to stop their beloveds from leaving or other guys kissing their girls under the pouring rain with a crowd of football fans watching them (argh and Breakfast At Tiffany's (Edwards, 1961) was the very best at the kissing-in-the-rain scene). These heroic measures are supposed to show how far one would go for the one they love but I am astounded by they influence young people to set their standards high and hope for a Prince Charming.

After major farce and the usual blah of teen romcom, I admit
this scene would make girls around scream...but c'mon!

Kissing scenes are supposed to be a part of the story. They are supposed to be in the flux of the story. In teen rom-coms, I've noticed, they have been serving as climaxes (well, at least as far as how weighty the effect of the scene is concerned)--probably to show that the couple finally unites but of course, this should not be the end-all-be-all. The scene as a tool to make the plot richer and to expound on whatever the theme is has just been an auxiliary to make adolescents and young adults frantic. I admit, I need to watch more rom-coms of today and find a more accurate perspective but I believe that 60s romantic comedies are far wittier, more charming and more romantic. I personally would never forget Holly's letting go of her dreams which in the first place deluded her from reality, ate up her pocket money and strayed her away from what she actually needed in the first place. Her realization is the very peak of the plot. This all ends with the patient Paul and her kissing in the rain. A charming use of the kissing scene.

Breakfast At Tiffany's

As for me, I want something real. I do not want a relationship constantly embellished with heroic nonsense because I think that too much hype about that makes love lose all its purity. I do not want to dive into a relationship either. It feels more like a contract: an agreement wherein your actions are all obligatory. Obligation. I wouldn't want that to kill love. I want to think of love as completing the missing pieces. Something you need because it is the fuel that makes you alive (making your alone life only half-alive). It should feel like that. Being single could be "nice" and some people could probably live solely on that notion but the point of being with someone else is to need to be with that someone and by that, making your singularity incomplete; in a relationship or not. I quote,

"Anyone who falls in love is searching for the missing pieces of themselves. So anyone who's in love gets sad when they think of their lover. It's like stepping back inside a room you have fond memories of, one you haven't seen in a long time. It's just a natural feeling." - Oshima in Kafka on the Shore (trans. 2005) by Haruki Murakami

 What I want is something completely natural and something that doesn't spring from simplistic societal conventions like dating. I'm tired of all that first base, second base, etc. crap. I want love and I want it in the purest sense. All of that just makes a relationship happen but not exactly springing anything. Everything has to go on its own course. I am tired of formalities and I wish that the most natural bonds would just arise without having to be labeled as unbecoming. Well, if I were to never find my missing piece, I would rather find a person who would make my offspring close-to-perfect (in my own relative sense, of course). Darn. Why can't we just live without having to follow the social code?

My attention turns to the old Philippine cinemas

http://senorenrique.blogspot.com/2008/04/quiapo-and-golden-age-of-filipino.html

This serves as a reminder for myself in case I pass by Recto again.

Oh Brother

(I feel so aesthetic this morning)

Little do I know about the world and that'll be so until I travel every single inch of it. Until I toil the icy lands and surf the raging seas will I ever trust that I am experienced. My soul is loud. My heart pounding. I am seventeen. My hormones shoot to every necessary micrometer of my body. All the sweet fantasies of adventure, love and dreams are high and hot and like boiling water will disperse to the air. The air will be thin and join the clouds above then fall into the seas then evaporate to the skies. The cycle goes on. Air is pregnantly symbolic.

My adventurous spirit is encased in this languid body. My youth scorches but the fires die even younger. The only source of difference would be my spirit--dysfunctional without a vitality in the flesh. The listlessness is my fault. I am my intrinsic enemy. If I were more expressive, everything would work. But, I am not. I do not have the drive and a once-full tank car could tragically become a now-empty steel case. I am too young to be my own enemy.

And get me started on the area of romance. Trapping myself in this mundane side of the world has made me hunger for it. If I link this to the physical delirium of a monthly cycle, the week before my predestined bleeding is the week of this hunger. My unpaired baby explodes once this famishment has not been satisfied. But I too believe that every being needs it. It is the sole invention that mankind needs. The whole of mankind is autistic. 

Now you, after reading this account, what is it that I lacked? Should I be ashamed of my carnal desires? Or that woeful spirit that was once alive and breathing as if it were carnal? I do not want anything. But I need some wanting. And I want some needing. And oh brother, I may fail at a poetic paragraph and a mixture between poetry and prose but the will to express is there. How I wish it would be consistent.




and it's still out of my reach...and it's still all of the things that I want in my life
Kids In Love by Mayday Parade

Cold Night

Summers are supposed to be hot if not warm. This year's summer is unbelievably cold. I am a pinch-close to shivering. Coldness adds a sufficient amount to the eerie atmosphere. Dogs howl away. Urban legends say that dogs can see what humans cannot and the howling could be a response to an unknown being to humans. That would be a paranoid thought. If this were a country that has four seasons, fog would create an ambiance. I wish we had owls here.

I have finished watching 19 episodes of the first season of Gilmore Girls. This snap-addiction is real bad. Waiting for my downloads to finish is a pain. While writing this blog, an hour and 7 minutes is required for episode 20 to finish. I am anxious about Dean's and Rory's situation. After an extremely sweet and romantic third month anniversary, Dean confesses to Rory that he loves her. Rory is taken aback and gives an awkward reply. I feel emphatic over this and I can't wait to finish the season to alleviate my addiction-caused pain. I plan to watch Supernatural because Dean's Actor, Jared Paledecki, is a lead character who is 10 years older than the Gilmore Girls supporting character and more mature. And I like abs. I could also use a bit of action.

I miss my movies immensely. Two days away from my babies is killing me. I also miss reading. I am annoyed at pleasant time-wasters. I feel a bit illiterate. I was about to spell 'illiterate' wrong. After the first season of Gilmore Girls, I will give myself a break from chick television (although Gilmore Girls is far beyond that category since it showcases much more than chick themes like fashion and chasing after guys) and watch my beautiful movies. I miss my Kubrick, Scorsese, Aronofsky, von Trier, Wilder and the rest. I wanted to give Fellini a try but the lack of subs has prevented me.

I miss Haruki Murakami. I feel that his surrealism is the only cure for my insomnia. I am not even sleepy right now and it is 1:42 AM. I should sleep before 2:30 AM.

Anyway, I would list down things and revise my Summer List but the verdict still stands: I will start checking items from my Summer List and have an awesome summer. Once that list is finished, I will give myself an award. Yippee.

"Life's Short. Talk Fast"

Allow me to rest from the R films and NC17 TV shows. I've been having an appetite for feel-good shows like Modern Family and The Big Bang Theory. I do not wish to eloquently review these shows but I plan to express my infatuation for them. Excuse my colloquialism and informality.

Modern Family is a satire of --as the name suggests-- the families of today. The modernity suggests a change from a preceding era of close-minded woe and unnecessary prejudice (haha). Which leads us to an interracial family and a homosexual family (2 of the 3 family units that comprise the Pritchett family) which were once unthinkable being incorporated into the show. This adds more laughs and fun to your everyday family (i.e. Gloria's desire to add some Columbian flavor to American holidays, Mitchell and Cam's cute gay-ness, etc.). I absolutely love the characters and how the whole Pritchett family makes me feel "all warm inside".

That baby doesn't look like Lily, though.

Then, there is The Big Bang Theory. Honestly, I am ambivalent to whether or not the "The" is actually part of the title. I would look it up but I plan to just write. The Big Bang Theory has a lot of high comedy in it. It has very intelligent dialog and the characters are incredibly funny while being extremely intelligent. TBBT follows two geniuses (Sheldon Cooper and Leonard Hofstadter), their beautiful neighbor (Penny) and their intellectual friends (Howard Wolowitz and Raj Koothrappali). I adore how every character has their own flavors.

Math, Science, History - unravel in the mystery.
It all started with a Big Bang! Hey!

I have the 2nd season to catch up with in Modern Family and I am tired of waiting for the torrent of the newest episode in The Big Bang Theory. Whilst waiting and catching up, I've come across a 2k family drama whose first episodes charmed me.

Gilmore Girls is quite feel-good. I like its slow-paced plot and fast-paced dialog. It feels more realistic than fast-paced shows like Gossip Girl and 90210 whose storylines seem to add drugs and sex out of thin-air because the writers experience some perennial writer's block (and have you noticed how romantic pairings just pop up?). I also adore how fresh and honest the show feels compared to the programs of today. I could use a heartwarming mother-daughter story right now. Also, it features some of the hottest guys in television history like Chad Michael Murray and Milo Ventimiglia--in his young hot days (landi mode: on).

The show's tagline is: "Life's Short. Talk Fast". It reminds me of those inspirational posters--the kinds that have words like "HONESTY" then a tagline goes under it with a smaller font. At first sight, it reminded me of those posters and I felt dragged back to my Barbie-playing days wherein those posters were trendy. I feel weirdly nostalgic.

See how heartwarming it is? :D

It is the second week of Summer vacation and I plan to take things one at a time. I am going to LTO tomorrow to get myself a Student's Driver's License and after which, I shall apply in A1 driving. I do hope that my left eye will get treated completely. I wouldn't want to destroy anyone's car. But, oh!, the excitement. Being able to drive could mean freedom and a symbol for my transition to independence and adulthood. I like the feeling of looking forward to something. However, I am a bit disappointed in myself because I haven't finished any books. I've read half of "History of Morals: A Survey of Sexual Behavior Through the Ages" by James Graham-Murray and the book was 3/5 an inch thick. I wanted to clean out my closet as well but I haven't started. I shall not perpetually tread in this road. Anyhow, if I were to speak of summer lists, I am glad to say that I have finished 20 movies so far and I have unchecked several items from the "1000 Movies You Have To Watch Before You Die" list.

Anyway, "Life's Short. Talk Fast." I want to be able to enjoy the little moments in life while persevering to be a Renaissance woman. But lo, that term is out-dated and the Renaissance was long ago. Let me be the New Age woman then. But I feel such pressure. Good thing I'm just 17. I can catch up on Science and the Arts. I am young and still idealistic, anyway.

3AM List

I guess I am making insomnia and excuse for itself. I find this disappointing so I will create something out of this nothingness.

(List of Top 15 films so far in no particular order. All from memory)

1. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
2. 12 Angry Men
3. Mulholland Drive
4. A Clockwork Orange
5. La Vita E Bella
6. Atonement
7. Revolutionary Road
8. Dogville
9. Abre Los Ojos
10. Donnie Darko
11. Le Fabuleux destin d'Amelie Poulain
12. The King's Speech
13. Fight Club
14. The Elephant Man
15. Breakfast At Tiffany's

Happy thoughts

No "cancel" is available here. Quite inconvenient. I would have to go back to all my posts and delete the intimidatingly empty blog posts. Reminds me of life.

Let me write stream-of-consciousness-esque.  I have been wondering how people should act, what people should want--stuff like that. These thoughts have emotionally-manipulated me, somehow (an inconvenience of being human, apparently. We were created with reason and emotion..err annoying). Now, I am typing stream-of-consciousness-ly because I do not feel the decency of writing with more articulation and finesse. And I want to write more elegantly in this post!

I am dubious now. Shall I retreat to a mindless life? Slowly conforming to the routines of everyday living while meaninglessly, listlessly, waiting for every sunrise? I have been too much of a nihilist and I insist a change. A change that would hopefully evoke some passion within. A passion for living with ever so much vitality that I would be like one of those extremely vibrant people that appear in those healthy-food commercials. What change shall that be? Value, virtue, all of that. Let value and virtue paste some vibrant glow in my face.

I am nonsensical once again. Thank goodness my audience is limited to myself--and well, a couple of people.

Fourteen and the Dead Butterflies

When you are 14, everything sucks. Every thing sucks. What sucks is that you think you are on your own when hormones rise to their peaks and schoolwork makes you sleep less. You start to battle your parents. You enter a barkada which you believe you aren’t even a part of. You are bombarded with all this uncertainty brought about by adolescence—the kind of uncertainty that you have to face on your own because in your mind nobody understands you. In truth, everybody knows what you are going through. They even have brochures on it. You want to try new things with your own age group. The funny thing is that all these friends of yours are as uncertain about life as you are.

            He was half a year older than me. I was at the top of the class and he was at rock-bottom. He played excessive DotA. Fooled around. Flirted around. He was so mediocre. Then, he chatted me up in Yahoo messenger. His messages were banal since they usually involved incomprehensible one-worders like “hahaha taba”. I was intrigued. He commented on my angst-filled status messages. I bet he didn’t even understand a word of it. He started to court me with roses whose stems were at least a foot and a half long. He escorted me from the high school gate to our classroom. And before you knew it, I fell into the hormonal abyss. Imagine falling into a sinkhole with the force of gravity accelerated by a thousand times.

            I didn’t know anything about relationships but I knew much about tradition. “Say ‘yes’ to him”, said my equally-confused group of 14-year-olds. So, I did. Afterwards, it was like Katy Perry and her teenage dream. No inhibitions. We held hands under the trees of the park-like area in our high school. We exchanged cheesy lines that usually came from modern films. I grew enticed by this illusion and the thought of him sharing that very illusion with another was mortifying—at least, I got that notion from some anime. I fell into a jealous rage.  We broke up. I cried for days and days. He jumped into the arms of another girl. I merely look at him in complete hatred. He did the same tactic with her: wooed her in the pathetic Yahoo messenger parameter and used the same banal one-worders.

            He was still mediocre. He still flirted around. He still fooled around. He still played excessive DotA—which was quite obsolete by then. I was now at the tenth of the class and he was still at rock-bottom. What a loser. What a laugh.

            When you are 14, everything sucks. You are uncertain about almost everything in the world. When you do become certain, that isolated, nobody-understands-me life is good as gone and you get a hangover after waking up from your teenage dream.

            I laughed at him because I thought that he was pathetic. I laughed until I cried. My similarly-hormonal friends mocked him and so did I. After all the laughter, I decided to reflect. But what happened between us anyway? Was there any profundity amidst the pathetically limited courtship ritual? I used to think there was. Was the anime and modern film-mimicry a mere reflection of the curious child in me? I thought that it was more than that. Then I laughed at my superficiality. For the first time, I was sure that I was being a superficial asshole.

            As of this writing, I am 17. I was 16 once and 15 before that. But I remember 14. I laugh at my 14-year-old self. So gullible. So immature. So 14.

-Quebec, Ann

--This comes from my English 12 Reflection Paper--

Summer 2011 list

I am enthusiastic for the summer to begin. Before I continue reviewing for ES, I shall list down the things I want to accomplish (which I hope will only take up less than 14 minutes of my time).

Overall list:
( ) Clean out my closet
( ) Clean out my tables
( ) Attend driving lessons
( ) Obtain an MP3 Player (haha, I found how relaxing this would be)
( ) Practice a language
( ) Read Tagalog novels and or stories
( ) Practice sleeping early
( ) Hang with friends <3
( ) Practice piano again
( ) Finish > 60 movies
( ) Finish >40 movies from 1000 list
( ) Just keep learning
( ) Lose 5 lbs :D (which is no problem)

Reading list:
( ) the downloaded stuff from long ago 
( ) Just keep reading...but novels-wise
( ) Moby Dick - Herman Melville (this has been on hold for over a month now)
( ) Hard Times - Charles Dickens
( ) Great Expectations - Charles Dickens 
( ) 100 Years of Solitude - G. G. Marquez
( ) Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
( ) Candide - Voltaire
( ) Metamorphosis - Franz Kafka
( ) Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides
---super bonuses---
( ) War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
( ) Don Quixote - Miguel de Cervantes
( ) Bleak House - Charles Dickens
( ) Atlas Shrugged - Ayn Rand
---yes, they are the mighty long novels---

The 10-minute Blog of Senselessness

Because of my 4-hour sleeping earlier, I am not sleepy and my body clock is dead. I shall spend the next 10 minutes writing this blog and listening to The Beatles' "I Want To Hold Your Hand". Surprisingly, I do not feel hormonally-driven. And I feel so chill.

Okay. End of 10 minutes.

Oh hail insomnia (Charles Baudelaire, why oh why!)

I do not feel poetic at all this night. MY attempts at splicing with words and converting them into catchy phrases are failures. I have been sick for a while now. Yesterday was marked with a slight fever. That was a let-down. I had a speedy recovery as well. I retain my old habits. My old insomniac habits. I am pissed! Oh Good Lord, why is the devil myself and SLEEP? I recall SLEEP by Haruki Murakami. A fantastical surreal condition that would be! Imagine the rest of your life without the need to rest. All that would be so beautiful.

I am saddened that the simplest tasks are underestimated. Not that they could be estimated. I'd like to think so. I think that I am lazy but in truth, several other people whom I have encountered in my life befit "Sorrows of the Moon".

Excuse my very incomprehensible stream-of-consciousness. Insomnia emulates drunkenness. Not that I know about it.

To end this nonsensical blog, a note to you:

Do not infiltrate my mind. Do not trespass my dreams. I feel naked. Absolutely naked. Weakened. No protection whatsoever. A single most innocent and meaningless touch of the hand is enough. But no, the evil devil ravishes through my throat and initiates a gulp of the finish. Argh you. The pathetic thing here is that you do not give a thought and I am sickened and pulled inside-out.

Umagang Kay Ganda

"Where's the passion when you need it the most?" - Daniel Powter "Bad Day"

I have been having my loser spells. If there are such things as fainting spells, then there could be loser spells. These are the unlucky times wherein their occurrence could not be helped. Not waking up to an alarm clock. Oversleeping. Circling all possible printing stations in the whole Ateneo and finding none open at 7:30am. S***. What's going on with the world? What's going on with my world? I am the only person feeling that there is something wrong. I do not want to lie down my bed while reading anymore because I am likely to sleep. When I turn on the laptop, my tendency is to play freaking Solitaire. Yes, Solitaire. The most boring game in the world. Roughly 12% of all play possibilities is the winning percentage.

How I wish I could wake up at 5 in the morning. Study until 7:00. Prepare until 7:30. Go to class. Then probably eat or something. Then attend my 10:30 class. Eat lunch with blockmates. Attend my 3-4 ballroom. Study until 7 then watch my films. During MWFs, I want to wake up at 7:00. Study until 10:00. Prepare until 10:30. Go to class. Eat lunch at 11:30. Catch up on my news on 12:00 until 1:00. Go to class at 1:30. Return from class 3:30. Study until 7:00. Then watch films.

Why can't I be that habitual? Instead of sleeping late doing nothing, why can't I be more productive?

Where's the productivity button when you need it?