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It's Hall and Oates night for me! Have a good night you sleepy head. And have a vibrant day ahead! :)

"Ang Lalakeng Black and White" ni Weng Cahiles (2007)

Isang malungkot na dapithapon (hindi ko alam pero lagi kong ina associate ang dapithapon sa kalungkutan). Pagala-gala ako sa Baywalk para tanggalin ang gutom ko para sa mga panibagong litrato. Kanina pa ako nandito pero wala pa akong nakikitang karapat-dapat na masama sa rolyo ng film ko. Nagdesisyon na akong umuwi na pero naisip ko muna na manigarilyo sa may waiting shed. Isangstick lang ang binili ko dahil kasalukuyan kong sinusubukan na bawasan ang bisyo ko. HIndi ako tanga para mangakong tuluyan ko na siyang ititgil. Kasama na talaga ata siya sa buong pagkatao ko. at sa pagkuha ko ng mga litrato. Umupo ako sa bakal na barandilya. Inilabas ko ang mp3 player ko. “Time is never time at all. We can never ever leave without leaving a piece of youth…” dinig na dinig ko si Billy Corgan habang hinaharana ako nang mabigla akong mapalingon tungo sa kabilang direksyon ng waiting shed. Isang lalaki ang nakaupo dun. Naka-itim na t-shirt, kupas na pantalon at sapatos na itim at puti. Gulo-gulo ang buhok niya at tulad ko ay naninigarilyo rin siya. Hindi ko alam pero sa paningin ko nung panahong yun, siya lang ang tanging black and white sa paligid ko. Sobrang lungkot ng taong to,naisip ko. Patuloy siya sa paghithit at may kung anong pwersa (marahil ang aura ng kalungkutan niya) ang nag-udyok sa akin para kunan siya ng litatro. Nakakagulat dahil habang tinitingnan ko siya sa lente, tila lalong tumitingkad ang kalungkutan niya. Inadjust ko ang focus at siniguradong makukunan sa litrato ang umaalingasaw na lungkot ng lalaki. Click. Nagulat ata ang lalaki at napatingin sa direksyon ko habang nakakunot ang noo.

“Sorry,” ang tangi kong nasambit.

“Alam mo miss, hindi lahat ng tao pwede mong gawing subject ng mga litrato mo,” tahimik niyang sagot pero dama ko ang pagkairita niya.

“Sorry talaga. Nakita lang kita at naisip kong kuhanan ka ng picture…”

Pagal siyang tumawa. “Miss, hindi mo ba naisip na kaya ako nandirito sa waiting shed mag-isa ay dahil gusto ko na walang umiistorbo sa akin? Siguro nga di mo naisip yun. Ang mahalaga lang sa iyo, ang makakuha ng litrato.”

Nagsimula na akong magalit. Sa tono kasi ng pananalita niya, tila ba minamaliit niya ang kahalagahan ng pagkuha ng litrato. Estranghero lang siya. Hindi niya ako kilala tulad ng di ko pagkilala sa kanya. Sa sobrang pagkainis ko, agad akong tumayo para iwanan siya. Wala rin naman kasing mapapala kung makipagtalo pa ako sa kanya. Mabilis ang paghakbang ko palayo nang biglang may humawak sa braso ko. Kahit hindi pa man ako lumilingon at nakikita kung sino ang pangahas na madiin ang pagkakahawak sa akin, alam ko agad na siya na yun. Marahil dahil sa kung anong lamig na biglang yumakap sa akin. (Hindi ko alam pero inaassociateko pa rin ang lamig sa kalungkutan). Lumingon  din ako sa wakas nakita kong mas malungkot siya sa malapitan. Kulay brown ang mga mata niya at tila pagod  na pagod kaiiyak.

“Naiwan mo ‘to,” Sabay abot sa akin ng mp3 player ko. “Smashing Pumpkins. Hindi ka lang mahilig sa photography, maganda pa angtaste mo sa music.”

“Wag mo na akong utuin,” naisip ko. Hindi ako sumagot at kinuha ang mp3 player ko sa mga kamay niya sabay talikod upang ipagpatuloy ang paglalakad.

“Miss, sorry na talaga,” sigaw niya habang hinahabol ako. “Pasensya kung medyo nainis ka sa akin. Badtrip lang talaga ko.”

“Halata naman eh.”

“Teka paano ba ako makakabawi? Hmmm… Teka, gusto mo pa ba ng yosi? Sasamahan ko na rin ng kape,” alok niya sa akin habang bahagyang nakatawa.

Hindi ko alam pero mukhang hindi ang alok niya ng yosi ang nagpapayag sa akin. Yung mailap na ngiti niya ata ang main reason kung bakit ako napa-oo. Mula sa simpleng kape at yosi, nakilala ko siya paunti-unti. Habang nagkukwentuhan kami, nalaman ko na isa siyang fine arts student sa UP, gitarista ng isang banda at natural na loner. Nakakatuwa kasi sabay sa paghigop ko ng kape, nakikita ko na parehas kami. Pareho kaming mahilig sa musika mula kay Fiona Apple, Death Cab for Cutie hanggang sa Copeland. (Habang nagkakape nga kami, umaalingawngaw sa tenga ko yung kantang Coffee ng Copeland) Tulad ko, nakaugalian rin niyang manood ng sine mag-isa. Paborito niya ang Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind, Lost in Translation, lalo na ang mga pelikula ni Akira Kurosawa at Wong Kar Wai. Nabasa rin niya ang mga akda nina Neruda, Kundera at Murakami. Nakakatuwa kasi nakahanap ako ng taong kaparehas ko ng gusto. Marami kasi sa mga kaibigan ko ang di ko kasundo pagdating sa mga ganitong bagay. Habang tumatagal, napapansin ko na nawawala na yung kumot ng kalungkutan na nakabalot sa kanya kani-kanina lang. Ang sarap tingnan ng mata niya habang nakatawa kasi may maliliit na linya sa gilid nito.

“Pasensya na sa tanong ko ha, pero pwede bang malaman kung bakit ang lungkot lungkot mo kanina sa waiting shed?”

“Basta. Pero kanina pa yun. Hindi na ako malungkot ngayon,” sagot niya habang nakatingin sa akin.

Tatanungin ko pa sana kung bakit nang biglang magring ang cellphone ko. Pinapauwi na ako ni Mama. Nagpaalam na ako sa kanya pero pakiramdam ko parang may kualng sa usapan namin. Hanggang sa naalala ko na di pa namin alam ang pangalan ng isa’t-isa. Pero naisip ko na maganda na rin sigurong di ko na alamin tutal hindi na rin naman kami magkikita ulit. Nagpaalam na ako at nakipagkamay. Ang weird kasi sinabi pa niyang “Nice meeting you” kahit di naman niya alam ang pangalan ko.

“I have this feeling that we will see each other a lot,” sabi niya habang kinakamayan ako. Pa- english-english pa ang kumag, naisip ko na lang. Lumakad na ako palayo. “And our lives are forever changed. We will never be the same…” bulong ni Billy Corgan sa tenga ko habang pauwi na ko at pakiramdam ko nga, may nagbago na dahil sa kanya.

Isang linggo ang lumipas. Masyado na akong naging busy dahil nagkaroon kami ng photo exhibit. Naisama ang limang litrato ko pati na yung picture ng lalaki sa waiting shed. Ang ganda kasi ng kinalabasan niya. Natakpan yung profile ng lalaki ng usok mula sa sigarilyo niya habang nakayuko. Malungkot. Napakalungkot na larawan. Habang tumitingin ako sa mga pictures, may tumapik sa akin at alam ko na siya yun. Pagharap ko, nakita ko ang pares ng malungkot na mata.

“Madaya ka. HIndi nakita sa picture yung kagwapuhan ko,”nakatawa niyang bungad.

“Kagwapuhan? Meron ka ba nun?” balik ko sa kanya.

“Meron naman kahit unti. Nga pala, nalibre na kita ng kape at yosi, di pa natin alam ang pangalan ng isa’t-isa. Ako nga pala si Kyle.”

“Mika,”

“Sabi ko na nga ba, magkikita pa tayo eh. Ang ganda ng mga kuha mo. Impressive. Mahilig ka sa mga tao as subjects of your pictures. Maganda. Kuhang-kuha mo ang emosyon.”

“Salamat.”

“Kape? Yosi?”

Pumayag uli ako pero sa pagkakataong ito, hindi lang ang simpleng ngiti nya ang dahilan. Pumayag ako kasi gusto ko pa siyang makilala ng mabuti. May pakiramdam din ako na gusto rin niya akong makilala pa. Nasundan pa ito ng ilang usap hanggang sa hindi lang kape at yosi ang saksi sa magandang samahan namin. Nandyan yung sabay kaming nanonood ng pelikula sa UP Film Center (pero magkalayo ang mga upuan namin), umaatend ng art exhibits at nanonood ng mga gig. Lumalim ng lumalim ang pagkakaibigan namin hanggang sa naramdaman namin na hindi na kami kasya sa maliit na kahon ng pagkakaibigan. Naging magkarelasyon kami. Bawat araw na magkasama kami, puno ng bagong discovery. Magugulat na lamang ako kapag binubiksan ko ang bag ko dahil may nilalagay siya dito na mga sketch naming dalawa na siya ang gumawa. Ginagawan niya ako ng mga kanta, mga tula. Unti-unti na siyang nagkakulay. Di na sya ang lalaking black and white na una kong nakita. Parehong naging makulay ang mundo namin. Pakiramdam namin kaming dalawa ang pinakamasayang tao sa mundo. Minsan lang kami mag-away at naaayos agad.

Hanggang sa isang araw naramdaman ko na lang na may nagbabago na sa amin. Tahimik na kapag magkasama kami. Nakikita ko na unti-unting kumukupas ang kulay niya. Ewan ko. Sinusubukan ko na pasayahin siya pero wala pa ring nangyari. Sabi ng maga kaibigan ko, itigil ko na daw. Wala na daw patutunguhan. Sabi ko sa kanila, hangga’t may pag-ibig pa rin sa pagitan namin, kakayanin ko. Sabi nila, magmumukha lang akong tanga. Sabi ko, wala akong pakialam. Dito ako masaya. Darating daw yung puntong mapapagod  ako. Sabi ko, ayos lang na mapagod ako sa isang bagay na pinaghihirapan kong isalba kaysa mapagod ako na walang ginagawa. Bibitaw lang ako kapag wala na talaga, kapag tuluyan na siayng nawalan ng kulay. Ngunit hangga’t nakikita ko na brown pa ang mga mata niya, itutuloy ko pa.

Isang gabi, pagkatapos namin panorin ang Lost in Translation sa ika-ilang ulit, bigla niyang sinabi, ”Napakaganda nung huling eksena sa pelikulang yan. Nagpaalam na sila sa isa’t-isa pero may certain calm pa rin sa pagitan nila. Walang iyakan, walang sigawan, walang away. Sumakay sa kotse ang lalaki patungi sa kung saan habang ang babae ay lumakad na palayo.” Ewan ko pero bigla akong naiyak nung sinabi nya yun. Parang yun na ang hudyat na magpapaalam na siya sa akin. Doon ko napansin na hindi na brown ang mga mata niya. Sabi niya ”Tapos na ang palabas,” sabay tayo at lumabas ng sinehan. Habang tinitignan ko siya palayo, naalala ko yung eksena sa pelikula. Ang pagkakaiba lang, hindi siya lulan ng kotse at hindi ako lumakad palayo. Naiwan ako sa dilim at hinihintay siyang bumalik kahit alma ko na hindi ko na siya makikita muli. Hinanap ko siya. Tinext. Tinawagan. Ngunit walang nangyari. Hanggang sa nakasalubong ko siya isang araw. Hindi naman niya tinangkang ibahin ang direksyon ng paglalakad niya. Nagkaharap kami ngunit kapwa di kami nagsalita. Kinuha ko sa bag ko ang sulat ko para sa kanya. Inabot ko iyon sa kanya at umalis na,

“I had mistaken his eyes for stars so I followed him where he went. The sight of those stars made me dream and the dreams were beautiful but not more beautiful than the light of the stars I thought I saw in his eyes. I chased the stars down to where they stopped and stayed still. He saw me finally and he said, ever so gently, sorry, you’ve mistaken my eyes for stars and they’re not. And I said, Oh, I see that now and maybe I should have been sad when he was looking at me. They were not stars but thay were as bright, if no more so. I know now that they’re not stars, I told him, but I like them. Can I stay here to look at them? I asked him and he smiled and said, ever so gently, yes, you can stay here and look at them. So he let me stay and here I am and there I will be until he lets me go.”

Iyon ang nilalaman ng sulat ko para sa kanya. HIndi naman ako umaasa na sasagutin niya yun. Ang gusto ko lang, malaman niya ang nararamdaman ko para sa kanya. Kasalukuyan akong nagbabasa nang biglang may nagtext sa akin. ”Noong una kitang makilala, nakita ko rin ang mga bituin sa mga mata mo. At hanggang ngayon nandoon pa rin siya. Wala sa iyo ang problema. Nasa akin. Hindi ko kayang panatilihin ang mga bituin sa mga mata ko. Natatakot ako na dumating ang araw na wala ka nang ibang makikita dito kundi kawalan. Salamat at patawad.”

Hindi ako umiiyak nung nabasa ko ang text niya. Parang sa pelikula, may certain calm ang paghihiwalay namin. Walang iyakan, walang away, walang sigawan. Natanggap ko na rin kahit papaano. HIndi ako galit sa kanya at kahit kailan ay hindi yun mangyayari. Kapag nagtanim ako ng galit sa kanya, para ko na ring dinuraan ang lahat ng magagandang alaala naming dalawa. Sa pag-ibig, dapat may respeto, hindi lang sa tao, kundi pati sa mga pinagsamahan. Hindi man naging maganda ang ending ng istorya namin, mayroon naman akong babalik-balikan na mga magagandang alaala. Hindi ako nalulungkot kapag muli kong nadadaanan ang mga lugar na lagi naming pinupuntahn dati. Hindi ako naluluha kapag naririnig ko ang mga paborito naming kanta. Kabaliktaran nga eh. Ang srap-sarap niyang balikan. Ang sarap-sarap alalahanin.

Katulad ng nabigo kong planong pagtigil  ko sa aking bisyo, andito na naman ako sa waiting shed. Inaalala siya habang hawak ang litrato niya at humihithit ng sigarilyo. Hindi ko inaasam na muli siyang makita dito. Hawak-hawak ko ang litrato habang ang buong paligid ko at black and white. Lumingon ako sa kabilang direksyon ng waiting shed at isang malaking espasyo lang ang nakita ko.

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Para sa lahat ng nakabasa ng "Ang Babaeng Black and White" mula sa Mabini Session's ng PUP. At para sa mga hindi pa. Ito ang Part 1. 

Weng Cahiles, ang husay mo!

QC Hall x SM North x TriNoma

Let the pictures narrate what I did last weekend. Another not on time post. 

On Saturday, though of fixing my Voter's ID by registering. That's Quezon City Hall. I was disappointed about the system. Oh boy. What should I expect?

On Sunday, thought of wandering off malls with my sister. Fellas, be careful with cabs. This one irritated me extremely. He doesn't even know where SM North is (that's a 24/7 cab). He gotta be kidding me.

Walking around. Window shopping. Buying not so pricey stuff. Quality time with your sister. Happy tummy. Aching toes. Rants and fun goes hand in hand.

Obscure.

The rain started to pour down earlier. At first, the skies were to be quite grayish, which makes the scenery more melancholic. I gave in to my vices' invitation. I lit a cigarette. That's the fourth for this month. I gave in to my weakness, how bad is that?

Sooner, I think the rain might be drastic. It is a Wednesday, and it makes me feel blue. When they asks how am I, there's no way for me to respond to them. I'm keeping myself mum. I am currently ignoring the world. I want to retreat from life just for today. This is not good.

Let me just immerse into my emotions. Crying would be the most therapeutic thing to do right now. But they will all get worried. They will think I have gone too far again. But what they don't understand is that I am hurt. That I cannot be productive by any means.

It's closing time. I need to pack my things, my experiences, and the lovely memories I have created alongside my friends.

It's time to take a detour. Alone.

Midnight Writings v.1

October 23.

Finally, Monday is now over. It was exhausting. It was suppose to be a good start for this week but it ended up being far beyond from what I was expecting. I was at the edge of smoking earlier. Yet I succeeded in declining my vices' wanting to lit a cigarette and its sickening scent to be sniffled again. It was somewhat fulfilling. My head was chaotic. Even until now I guess. Problematic-- my current state of mind. To be alone and not to be surrounded by people. That's what I wanted. They weren't as affected as I was. Maybe it's just me, and my paranoia syndrome. Oh Lord, please keep me sane until everything normalizes.

Bathroom Birthday Tales.

"The Poopsy Partner"

As unique/strange as it seems, I call one of my reliable friends, Poopsy-- since I always tag her along with me whenever I feel like pooping. Next to smoking, it is the bathroom momentos that are best shared with her. 

She has been one of those creepiest people I have met two years ago. Remembering the days wherein I was very naive (which is feeling ko lang naman) and I was just a starter when it comes to smoking, I will always try to start a conversation between her but she never talked to me amusingly. 

But because I was very comical and amiable (maka use of adjectives naman ako), we ended up being the "best friends" at work. And we have been partners in crime. She's one of those that senses my mood upon seeing me right away. Walang tago-tago ng emosyon. Alam nya na yan! I like how we enjoy laughing at the same things, hating the same things and respecting each other's heartaches, being stupid without any hesitations. Our friendship is about chaos and serenity-- both juggled in between.

She is so patient with me, to whatever rants I have daily. No matter how many times we talk about the same things, we always end up just making fun of it at the end!

There was never a dull moment in our friendship. Lahat sobrang mahalaga para sa akin. Thank you for the gift of friendship!!! Sana madami pa tayong lakbayin na taon!!!

From left to right:

1. Pangasinan 2011

2. After Up Dharma Down gig. January 2012

3. Oktoberfest 2011

4. The night that started it all :)) You know what I mean!

5. Ministop after work

6. Check-in after Padi's. Last quarter of 2011

7. Zambales 2012

8. My 2012 Birthday!

9. Valentines 2012

Happy Happy Birthday Poopsy Shane!!! You have always been a sweet/funny/manyak/scary/crazy friend!!! HAHA. People should know how lovely you are, inside and out (pang Ms. Philippines peg) Haha :) Madami silang dapat matutunan from you! Naks!

I love you and know that you'll be safe here. Have fun!!! See you later!!! :)

"I'm happy being me"

"I'm happy being me"

This is what I said to my colleague earlier after commenting that I should lose weight. 

She passed by and got amused with my "fish tail" thingy, and suddenly irked "Ate Katya, dapat magdiet ka na para gumanda ka blahblahblah". Having insecurities about your flaws is absolutely normal. Especially for me na mas normal pa sa normal dahil "DA WHO?" nga ba naman ako. I feel much worse pa siguro.

In my entire life, I can no longer count the chances I took to just lose weight. But the thing is I always fail. I am a proud loser of doing so. Why? Firstly, it does not please me. Parang trying hard lang. My urge to lose weight doesn't come from the heart, walang drive kumbaga. Secondly, I feel like I'm doing it to fit in to the bandwagon of the "skinny" society. Which was never what I wanted. 

So here's the gist. Whether you are voluptuous or sige, straight to the point na obese like me, you couldn't just go on a diet all of a sudden; the "no-rice-totally-meal-after-six-thing-no-carbs-blahblahblah" and other depriving habits related to dieting easily.

Know why you are doing it. Set priorities. Is it because you want your old rugged jeans to fit you again? Can't you do a lot of walking because you're running out of breath easily? Is it because you want to be more healthy? To make you feel even better? If yes, then go and start living a healthy life. But if you will just do it to please anyone else, I'm telling you, it won't work. 

At the end of the day, whether you have achieved that 36-24-36 bod or just becoming less fat, what's important is that you're happy with yourself. Self-esteem lang yan te! At wag papadala to those people who are throwing insulting words on just for you to feel miserable since that's what they feel with themselves. Because no matter how skinny or huge you are, if you are not happy, it will always show. It will always affect the way you perceive things.

Yun lang. Go lang te! Uso macho ngayon. And once you look at the mirror, say to yourself, "Ganda moooo!" with full conviction. Embrace yourself for who you are, and by that, people around you will love you more :)

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This was suppose to be my entry yesterday but as obvious I am blogging it today. Hehe. Have a good day! :)

Sambit.

Sa araw na ito muli kong sasariwain

ang kahapong minsang naging atin

akin itong lilingunin, babalikan 

at akin lamang aangkinin ng panandalian

Sa pamamaraang ito, bubuhayin kong muli

anino mong pilit na ikinubli 

na sa pagdaan ng mga taon 

ay pilit kong itinapon

Gaya ng agos ng tubig sa batis

ang aking puso'y walang sawang maghinagpis

iyong itinatwa ating pagi-big

puso't isipa'y nalumbay, pagkat ito'y aking di ibig

Ngunit paano nga ba makakawala 

sa iyong makamandag na alaala

ako'y tumakbo palayo, ninais tumakas

pero tila ako'y sadyang di makaalpas

Patuloy na nalulunod sa luhang tumutulo

lagi kong usal, "Nakaukit ka na sa aking pagkatao"

nais kong ika'y masilayan

maski pa sa buhay na walang kasiguraduhan

Ngunit kung di palaring ito'y makamit

sa kabilang buhay patuloy akong magbabakasakali

Aasang balang araw ika'y mahagkan

sasambiting, "Tangina mo, di na kita babalikan".

“You Should Date An Illiterate Girl”

By Charles Warnke (Jan. 19, 2011)

Date a girl who doesn’t read. Find her in the weary squalor of a Midwestern bar. Find her in the smoke, drunken sweat, and varicolored light of an upscale nightclub. Wherever you find her, find her smiling. Make sure that it lingers when the people that are talking to her look away. Engage her with unsentimental trivialities. Use pick-up lines and laugh inwardly. Take her outside when the night overstays its welcome. Ignore the palpable weight of fatigue. Kiss her in the rain under the weak glow of a streetlamp because you’ve seen it in film. Remark at its lack of significance. Take her to your apartment. Dispatch with making love. Fuck her.

Let the anxious contract you’ve unwittingly written evolve slowly and uncomfortably into a relationship. Find shared interests and common ground like sushi, and folk music. Build an impenetrable bastion upon that ground. Make it sacred. Retreat into it every time the air gets stale, or the evenings get long. Talk about nothing of significance. Do little thinking. Let the months pass unnoticed. Ask her to move in. Let her decorate. Get into fights about inconsequential things like how the fucking shower curtain needs to be closed so that it doesn’t fucking collect mold. Let a year pass unnoticed. Begin to notice.

Figure that you should probably get married because you will have wasted a lot of time otherwise. Take her to dinner on the forty-fifth floor at a restaurant far beyond your means. Make sure there is a beautiful view of the city. Sheepishly ask a waiter to bring her a glass of champagne with a modest ring in it. When she notices, propose to her with all of the enthusiasm and sincerity you can muster. Do not be overly concerned if you feel your heart leap through a pane of sheet glass. For that matter, do not be overly concerned if you cannot feel it at all. If there is applause, let it stagnate. If she cries, smile as if you’ve never been happier. If she doesn’t, smile all the same.

Let the years pass unnoticed. Get a career, not a job. Buy a house. Have two striking children. Try to raise them well. Fail, frequently. Lapse into a bored indifference. Lapse into an indifferent sadness. Have a mid-life crisis. Grow old. Wonder at your lack of achievement. Feel sometimes contented, but mostly vacant and ethereal. Feel, during walks, as if you might never return, or as if you might blow away on the wind. Contract a terminal illness. Die, but only after you observe that the girl who didn’t read never made your heart oscillate with any significant passion, that no one will write the story of your lives, and that she will die, too, with only a mild and tempered regret that nothing ever came of her capacity to love.

Do those things, god damnit, because nothing sucks worse than a girl who reads. Do it, I say, because a life in purgatory is better than a life in hell. Do it, because a girl who reads possesses a vocabulary that can describe that amorphous discontent as a life unfulfilled—a vocabulary that parses the innate beauty of the world and makes it an accessible necessity instead of an alien wonder. A girl who reads lays claim to a vocabulary that distinguishes between the specious and soulless rhetoric of someone who cannot love her, and the inarticulate desperation of someone who loves her too much. A vocabulary, god damnit, that makes my vacuous sophistry a cheap trick.

Do it, because a girl who reads understands syntax. Literature has taught her that moments of tenderness come in sporadic but knowable intervals. A girl who reads knows that life is not planar; she knows, and rightly demands, that the ebb comes along with the flow of disappointment. A girl who has read up on her syntax senses the irregular pauses—the hesitation of breath—endemic to a lie. A girl who reads perceives the difference between a parenthetical moment of anger and the entrenched habits of someone whose bitter cynicism will run on, run on well past any point of reason, or purpose, run on far after she has packed a suitcase and said a reluctant goodbye and she has decided that I am an ellipsis and not a period and run on and run on. Syntax that knows the rhythm and cadence of a life well lived.

Date a girl who doesn’t read because the girl who reads knows the importance of plot. She can trace out the demarcations of a prologue and the sharp ridges of a climax. She feels them in her skin. The girl who reads will be patient with an intermission and expedite a denouement. But of all things, the girl who reads knows most the ineluctable significance of an end. She is comfortable with them. She has bid farewell to a thousand heroes with only a twinge of sadness.

Don’t date a girl who reads because girls who read are the storytellers. You with the Joyce, you with the Nabokov, you with the Woolf. You there in the library, on the platform of the metro, you in the corner of the café, you in the window of your room. You, who make my life so god damned difficult. The girl who reads has spun out the account of her life and it is bursting with meaning. She insists that her narratives are rich, her supporting cast colorful, and her typeface bold. You, the girl who reads, make me want to be everything that I am not. But I am weak and I will fail you, because you have dreamed, properly, of someone who is better than I am. You will not accept the life that I told of at the beginning of this piece. You will accept nothing less than passion, and perfection, and a life worthy of being storied. So out with you, girl who reads. Take the next southbound train and take your Hemingway with you. I hate you. I really, really, really hate you.

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And what I liked most about this piece is the depth on how you distinguish an illiterate girl from that who reads. Wonderful words used! I learned a lot. Hehe :)

P.S. Got this from Saab Magalona's blog. You should read hers by the way! 

Film Review: Muli (2010)

Apparently, I have just finished watching Adolfo Alix Jr's "Muli" for the second time on Cinema One. Starring Sid Lucero (Jun) and Cogie Domingo (Errol). Here's the trailer just so you haven't seen it or if you're just interested, though:   

Set in the mountainous Baguio City, its story talks about Jun who is an ex-seminarist/teacher/activist and Errol who's an aspiring lawyer who met each other during the Martial Law era. 

The story amazes me as on how two different people from different fields can still get attached to each other. The silent affair they had with each other; Time and life's challenges have always played its trick on them. 

Over the years, Jun continued to wait in vain until Errol comes back to Baguio, may it be after a year, 2 or 3 years. Yet, Errol got married, became a lawyer and settled down in Manila only to visit Baguio in a very unpredictable timing.  

One cannot simply grasp the content of it due to its sensibility-- Gender issues and politics at the same time. But what you have to understand is the passion they have-- both within their relationship and to the country. 

Nonetheless, I am encouraging you to watch this film for it has its own creativity in discussing such taboo issues. The humor being inserted once in awhile made the movie a little lighter to handle. 

Here are some of the lines I have noted down while watching the movie (I got fond of doing this every now and then):

"Wag kang mai-in love sa isang kasama. Mahirap magsama ang dalawang komunista. Palaging may giyera." --Dina. A frustrated activist when it comes to marriage. Her partner never asked her for marriage. He was more determined with his commitment in the group.

"Di ko kayang di ka makita kahit isang beses sa isang taon." --Jun to Errol

Jun: Bakit ba tayo naghahanap ng kapareha? Dahil ba ayaw natin mag-isa? Para may mag-alaga sa atin?

Errol: Hindi. Naghahanap tayo ng kapareha para mahalin natin. Para di natin maramdaman ang lungkot.

"Parang di tumitigil ang mundo. Ang dami kong naaalala." --Errol.

"Kung tatanggapin mo na lang kung anong duamting, walang mangyayari sa buhay natin." --Air. A student activist who had a May-December love affair with Jun. He later on went astray in the mountains to continue his advocacy. 

Indie films are renowned for its good quality of story. Not too much commercialism makes it more real and appealing. Adding up to its even better flow of story is its list of songs, mainly very old school and heart-felt too. 

Indeed, this film is one of my top favorite Indie films. Try to watch it!