Friday, April 29, 2011

Somewhere South

My head exploded.
No, it didn’t. I was watching an episode of House and to my surprise Spencer (Christian Gabrielle) of South of Nowhere guest starred in it. It reminded me of the wonderfully cancelled TV series which was quite tragic, it’s was as if some of my parts were murdered.

So here I was, searching south of nowhere on youtube and voila! I discovered they are going to make a movie of the TV series.

They said they need 100,000 views in order for the movie to be produced, so whether that’s true or not I hope there would be a movie, do promote the awesome clips. 

Apparently I'm at work, I don't feel like working. Still have articles to finish...

If you have no idea what South of Nowhere is here is a Promo:

Burn this Bridge if We're Not Going to Cross It!

This is my most favorite House Season 7 Episode: Unwritten

A writer, after finishing her final manuscript locks in a vault. Talking to a boy, later on revealed as a pigment of her imagination, who asked her what she will do then since writing was her life.
She pulls out a gun from her writing table drawer and points it to her mouth but before she could pull the trigger, she had a seizure… Her Maid comes to her aid.

Topic of discussion on a Friday: Suicide

I went home to Laguna last weekend and as always - had conversations with my friend Zeus, just like our usual conversations such as emotional, financial, career and other struggles in life, we talked about suicide. Because we were talking about performance arts - man choking himself in a mall, woman rolling on the street of Manila in a blood drenched wedding gown, man tying himself on the back of beetle-bug etc and Suicide as a form of performance art Ala Black Swan minus the hallucinations.

I don’t see suicide as a form of cowardice and there have been several commitments of suicides currently in the Philippines. Have I mentioned that a few years ago, three children have committed suicides in our Barangay where Zeus and I live? All occurred in a month.

Zeus said it’s fine to commit suicide if it weren’t for emotional reasons such as committing suicide since you have accomplished your goals in life. 
You're done with the purpose you have created yourself so end your existence but leave a beautiful mark in this world. End world hunger/poverty/war/pain then kill yourself.You will surely have monuments, songs, poems, photo-collage as tribute to the good deeds you've done.

Perhaps for him it’s fine to commit suicide after achieving whatever you want in life, which is pretty much the case of the writer in House’s episode. The writer in that episode was in pain in which I’m not going to divulge further, go watch House, it’s therapeutic, eye-opening, entertaining and so much more.

I agreed with him in some ways. People die for little to no apparent reason every day. One gets held up in the middle of the night, discovering he only has P50 in his pocket ends up bleeding to death near some gutter in Aurora Blvd, people die from diseases every day, abortion (legal/illegal), car crash or negligence, forgetting to breathe etc.

I wonder why people look at suicide as though it’s a very bad thing.
Considerably it’s economically and earthly positive, one less human taking oxygen so more oxygen for everyone, less carbon footprint, less animals butchered to satisfy his or her taste buds, good for worms if the corpse was to be buried or less space taken up if cremated and more.

In a romantic sense, it’s tragic. It can either be meaningful or meaningless, depends on the romantic level of the person. One less collection of laughter and tears, one less person to talk to (to some at least) or share insights with, etc.

It’s very tragic if the person who killed himself or herself is a very beautiful, genius and talented person.
I haven’t had any closer friend or relative who have committed suicide, I’m pertaining to the successful ones. The not successful ones, I now see them as emotional vampires who try to manipulate others into succumbing into their emotional needs. In which I’ve admittedly had once been a victim. I sometimes think I’m too nice for my own good. Ugh… Teens.

The only thing that’s worst than suicide, is FAKE/FAILED Suicide! People will always have the presumption of the person who attempted it needed validation of their existence. Although people do a lot of bizarre things to validate their existence because well, it’s utterly depressing to be alive when no one thinks you exist.
People are well, messed up in some way or another. Is suicide the answer? I don’t know. For some it is. I don’t promote it but I don’t really think of it as such a bad thing. We will always have different views on it I suppose.

Zeus and I have unfolded the discussion on killing one self when the emotion and urge is just too strong.
It’s passionate alright, but could often lead to a beautiful mistake just like any acts of ardors, it’s often irrational but the defense could be… it could just be really hard to bear.  

Perhaps it’s the only Romantic Gesture that hasn’t really died yet.

"For you I'd bleed myself dry..." 
 Yellow by Coldplay

It’s Hard… It’s always Hard. – HOUSE MD

I always thought that life is a challenge in a way and sometimes I challenge myself further.
Back in college we used to have rounds on who will clean the bathroom and sometimes just to put some spice, I would clean it using a toothbrush. Yes, a toothbrush... brushing every square tile of the bathroom until it's sparkly clean.

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

What Happened?

What a miserable article… Anyhows, my friend posted the link on facebook and we had a rather interesting interpretation of what happened to the nice guys and perhaps girls in our lives (it’s still quite applicable) but do read the article first.

My friend, let’s call her Catnapper- because I met her in the most peculiar way, she wanted to be a foster parent of a stray cat in which another friend of mine had rescued from the gutters. Yeah, we have big hearts, I was the middle man between the two and I met her through a friend as well.

Catnapper: So ladies, think hard about all those abandoned nice guys.
Veronica: Haven't read the article yet but my guess is:
Either they're gay Or Married.
Catnapper: or damaged.
Veronica: Or lesbians..

C: Or agoraphobics
V: Or reptiles :V
C: or watches the jersey shore.
V: Or is dating your best-friend :))
C: or is the best friend :)
V: Or has resorted to stalking you instead
C: or has a restraining order versus you --- TMZ!
V: Or is sleeping with your mother...
C: or has sworn off human contact since 2012 is appearing on the horizon.
V: Or is in Tibet, sworn to celibacy and has become a monk
C: or would rather be with sheep.
V: Or is in a state of comatose
C: or has decided that he prefers much older women.
Annonymous: Or he found out that he also prefer ding-dongs. :P
V: Or he choked on hotdogs and died
C: Or is still deluding himself in hollywood.
V: Or he has decided that he prefers much younger women...
C: Or that he is currently lost in the underground tunnels of vietnam...
V: Or is being held captive by cannibals in the catacombs of France
C: or is stuck in a time loop at the dentist’s waiting room.
V: Or has mutated one morning into a lobster and was savagely eaten by aristocrats by making him into Lobster Thermidor
C: or has lost his memory when a turtle fell on his head.
V: Or is traipsing in the moors Heathcliff style :))
C: or is currently attending a lecture on Thoreau and individual anarchy.
V: Or is planning in obsessive detail his revenge and your utter demise
C: or is wrapped around somebody else's arms while thinking about me.
V: Or is busy trying to get the square root of 23476564.89244 with the use of an abacus
C: or is calibrating the hadron cylinder.
USISERA: *Pasingit* I like this exchange more than the article
V: Or was abducted by aliens
(USISERA LIKED VERONICA’S Comment “Or is traipsing in the moors Heathcliff style :))”
C: Or works in a library and has yet to look up from a book.
V: Or went to Africa to learn hexing and voodoo in order to curse you
C: Or has enrolled in Hogwarts and is trying to perfect the cruciatus spell.
V: Or had made a pact with the devil
C: Or is playing Mama Mia in some obscure theatre in Katmandu.
V: Or is busy trying to revive Frankenstein
C: or is still searching for the fountain of youth.
V: Or is reading this endless thread... :))
C: and is wondering , but I am here! stop adding to this thread women! ... I am actually the nice guy and he is the one who is oblivious.
(Veronica bursts out laughing)
V: *GASP!!*
V: Or is a genius to do all these sort of things... 
C: Or is busy wondering when he can find a nice girl.
V: Or is wondering What happened to All the Nice Girls...  

To be continued "Uwi na ko"

Monday, April 18, 2011

The Callowness of youth

Día del Libro 2011 and Bersong Europinoy 3 was held in Instituto Cervantes last Saturday, April 16

I was excited to attend Book day or Día del Libro, it was a hot Saturday so I was forced to buy an umbrella. After getting lost around Kalaw St., going around in circles in a cab and phoning a friend on how to get to the new Instituto Cervantes place, I was relieved by the sight of books, cheap too in a language I barely understand.
Día del Libro, according to the Bersong Europinoy 3 booklet, is an international book day which originated in the Catalan region of Spain to celebrate St. George’s day in which roses are given in exchange of books. There were jazz performances, workshops, poetry reading, food and book fair, wine fair and contest all summed up in one festive day.
So if you purchase a book or something in one of the sellers, you will also be given a rose for free, long stemmed too.
There were several publishing houses selling books at discounted prices while on the side would be wine bottles and next to it would be Alba, selling food and other delicacies.

I went to the Bersong Europinoy to see several poetry performances. Poems from Greece, Austria, Czech Republic, Belgium, Spain, Poland, Italy, Netherlands, United Kingdom and Philippines were performed.
Of course there’s an English translation to the poems, which I’m afraid tragically failed to retain the feel of the original poems since I’ve seen livelier zombies than the English translation readers. Well it’s just like a movie adaptation, always failing to match up with the based book.
One performance that I loved was read by a German couple, a poem by Gottfried Benn titled Palau. They said they practiced and listened on how the original poet had performed it probably more than 50 years ago. The poem was read as though to lull the audience and put them into a state of transience consciousness. It was beautiful indeed which inspired me on how to construct my future poems specifically those that I want to be read in an audience. I also have a certain fondness to the German language but I don’t think I’m biased at all.

My favorite Poem by Lord Byron was performed by United Kingdom, a woman with British accent, it was interesting.
Evidently there were delegates of different nationalities, therefore proper decorum and politically correct behavior must be observed.

I am gravely appalled by the two young performers from the Philippines, they have shamed us, shamed themselves. I was sitting next to Abdon Balde Jr., whom I take advices from with book writings and submitting manuscripts to publishers and he said he will teach me a lot of “Kabalbalan” because he read some of my poems. He’s also a chairman of UMPIL and has taken home several awards and a National bookstore consultant. He has written 10 books, so I’m an UMPIL member because he suggested submitting an application. A man of the literary world whom I revere and look up to and is still alive, he said he’s in his early 60s.
There were two young performers, probably around my age but perhaps older for a few years that have performed the most abominable performances ever to grace Instituto Cervantes. The first performer, in which despite writing a few young adult novels and performing all over the country have shamed himself, on the platform he told a story about him stalking a guy on facebook and he sang and recited a poem but after singing, the Europeans have complained and the director of Insitituto Cervantes, Jose Rodriguez walked out and exited the room.
I wanted to follow him but spontaneously combusting was more apt in this situation, Abdon was quietly sitting next to me. The guy whom I shall not name, out of respect - for myself, performed a number about stalking a guy while his armpits were wet, a reaction from the heat perhaps in an AC room. He made gestures and sang in a pedestrian manner. It was obnoxious.
After the performance he recited a poem which wasn’t in the booklet, a deliberate abandon of rules. That was when Jose, the director, exited the place. He thought it was funny but no one’s laughing.
After that, he somehow realized the repercussions of what he did and was seen on the side of the stage biting his nails out of, I don’t know, shame? Had he any...
His friend, also didn’t perform what they were suppose to read but rather read a poem that seem to promote war between nations. I wonder if he had forgotten there were representatives from different countries in the audience that was made painstakingly obvious because most of them were blondes.
In a very cultured event he was wearing what seems to be off for the season, a beanie for his head, a shirt that appeared to be two sizes bigger and baggy pants. I have reasons to believe he’s stuck in the 90s or to believe he’s a gangster. A beanie, seriously? The sun had unleashed his hellish rays outside!
I’m all for self-expression and all, but there is still certain decorum artists need to observe in certain situations and these are magnified more so for artists and performers unless one wants his or her reputation down the gutters. I always believed the generation of my youth are quite reckless and well… callow. Should Culture and Decorum be included in College curriculums?

The only performance that took the audience off their seats was from Abdon, he even had a lot of people taking his autographs after.
After the event I roamed around the place and bought a book that was rather interesting, with a typewriter cover and a set of traditional vintage cards I’m going to use in my new place in Katipunan and send to friends. So I had two roses with my purchases, I gave it to my friends whom I met in intramuros after Insitituto Cervantes.

Before leaving I saw a common friend, she introduced me to the douche who made a clown out of himself, he asked “Did you see me embarrass myself?” in which I replied “Yes…” we had a chat for a bit and I left since my friends were waiting. I remembered back in the Salon de Actos, he said to the audience that his only Culture is "Bacteria" a very common joke you can hear if you were in a comedy bar. I guess he was right, the only culture he has is... of Bacteria level. Rubbing it on his face wouldn't help.

And my theme song for the Book Day event would be from BT's Emotional Technology - Communicate

I've been listening to his Album "These Hopeful Machines" the whole week. I'm hooked I must admit. I love Electronica and Trance.

Monday, April 11, 2011

I’m a geek: 24 hour read-a-thon with Flips Flipping pages

I'm a geek, so when the youth of my generation are preparing to dress up to go to the hottest clubs in the Metro on a friday, I am well excited and already prepared to get new books and read them in one of the gnarliest bookshop in the Metro.

Despite having lesser time writing as the days zooms closer to my deadline, I still have spared the time of spending it on a 24 hour read-a-thon in Libreria Cubao Expo. I just wanted one of my hardbound books to be wrapped in plastic by someone since I do not have the talent to do so.
Although I would have wanted all of my books to be covered, it would be very hard for me to drag them to Cubao ex so I thought I’ll take “In Love, In Sorrow” to be covered solely. 

The Priestess of Book Covering and her apprentice doing her magic on my book.

I’m already carrying Neomi and a few other accessories that would probably give me osteoporosis when I get to the age of 30, carrying too much just might break my back.
It was my first time to meet the members of the Flips Flipping Pages BookClub, the largest group in Shelfari in the Philippines, filled with bibliophiles and geeks who join nerdy quizzes such as ‘Geek Fight’ in which I’m training to join in the future.  

Notice the palabok in the center of the room, behind that table would be drinks such as Cola Zero, a basket of chocolate and candies. Then there's also the Potato Salad with fake bacon in it [Yum], there's also hummus and pita. Aside from the orders from the neighboring bar and supply of vodka ice. Who said Geeks don't know how to party?

The read-a-thon started at 9PM but I was already at the place around 7:30 to write, my endless battle against looming deadlines. I grabbed a book somewhere and thought that would just grab a book anywhere to read for the next 24 hours. I took A golden Age, 1000 defining moments in books, The Mask of Sanity to read, in which I must admit finished none during the read-a-thon because there were a lot of distractions, the event should be called eat-a-thon, drink-a-thon and talk-a-thon. Despite all that I still won myself a book to add to my ever increasing book back logs. 

The read-a-thon turned out to be a mask to front drinking, spent more hours drinking in front of the bookshop until every shop in cubao ex closed down and the owner wanting us to leave. When there were no more liquors it was up to buying liquor outside despite the ban. The owner was there, of course taking liquor inside ex wasn't allowed anymore therefore I talked to the owner of cubao ex, he was charmed by my charms so we got several bottles in by 5am and continued the drink-a-thon. 

"We are masochists," a member said while we were drinking and holding a book we tried hard to read, let alone understand. "we go to this one place and read books continually for the next 24 hours, how masochistic is that?"
There was this girl in the group who really read in one corner, unperturbed, unfazed, when asked why she joined the event she said "I'm a masochist"
When they told me the story, my morning beer threatened to come out of my nose. There is a certain truth in that, but we were having fun talking and drinking while trying to "read". I say, it's a rather hedonistic approach.

I accidentally kicked the leg of the masochistic girl when I passed by, it would definitely hurt since I was wearing a pair of rugged combat boots and is quite a klutz when it comes to walking, when I accidentally kicked her, to my surprise- she apologized...

If you have a Shelfari account, feel free to add me as a friend.
Love books and would like to torture yourself by reading for 24 hours straight while at the same time stuffing your face with calories and pushing it down with alcohol?

Then join us in the next coming event!

Friday, April 8, 2011

The Beet on Vegetarianism

A man can live and be healthy without killing animals for food; therefore, if he eats meat, he participates in taking animal life merely for the sake of his appetite. And to act so is immoral.
LEO TOLSTOY, On Civil Disobedience

Perhaps I was quite the tree-hugger back in college, obsessed with preserving nature and saving the environment. Hardcore would be an understatement when it comes to saying that I was hardcore environmentalist, no… I was an earth warrior defending its dignity, pride and honor… or so I thought.
I started my vegetarian diet back in the latter part of my college years, when I even bothered to volunteer for this NGO that’s quite known all over the globe and even allowed them to garnish certain amounts from my bank account each month. It passed and after almost two years I went back to eating meat since my previous job required it and that something happened, something that changed my life forever (well, not really. I went back to my vegetarian diet eventually)

Something altered my philosophy about the world that I went back to being a careless citizen of the world who doesn’t care if the world is being damaged and degraded by our unfettered use of fossil oil, smoking and improper waste disposals. 

Imagine, back then, I wouldn’t surrender my clothes unless they’ve been worn for at least three days, I don’t wear them for three consecutive days mind you. I don’t flush the toilet, unless I really have to and I have tried desperately to avoid using paper towels, tissues and would keep a hanky handy always.
I left my car home and didn’t bother using it, if I can walk to the place of destination then in a heartbeat I would.
You must think I’m a crack pot back then but thankfully I didn’t look like a hobo, despite the abandon of ironing my uniforms. My friends refer to me as Korean back then because Koreans don’t iron their clothes.

For the love of nature I forsook meat, although my diet back then wasn’t as strict as mine to this day. I easily get tempted to eat Lechon whenever there’s an occasion but I followed the diet most of the time. I was a Lacto-Ovo Vegetarian whereas today I’m simply a Lacto Vegetarian. 

Perhaps you would slap me with a steak if I tell you that being a vegetarian is easy, back then it wasn’t. I really had to exorcise myself to forget about meat back in college and at such an age of 19, that is something kids of my age won’t even dare think of. I even tried growing a tomato in a pot which I aptly named Kammy (Kamatis) but died since I wasn’t able to water if for two days.

Going for red meat is not my thing and would prefer white meat always. The process I took was from Pollotarian (Chicken eater) to Pescetarian (Seafood eater) to Lacto-Ovo Vegetarian then to Omnivorian then suddenly to Lacto-Ovo Vegetarian again then now to Lacto Vegetarian ( Taking off eggs from my diet, since I’m terribly allergic to them)

There are a lot of reasons why I went back to being a vegetarian.
One: Is that my acquired pilgrimage required it
When we eat animal meat, we take in their sorrowful souls. When they die, which is most probably in the most horrifying way, they emit sorrow since they are in pain and if you partake in their meat, you take in their sorrow. Eating meat agitates people, making them irritable and in constant worry. The negative energy is of course passed on to the person who eats it.
In my pilgrimage, we are required with emphasis never to cause sorrow.

Two: Is that I believe that the most effective protest against violence on animals is by not eating them.
I profess certain contempt to those who rally and tag me on facebook to support and fight against animal violence when they themselves can’t even consider not eating them.
Protesting against animal violence when you too eat animal meat is no more different than someone promoting peace by having a gun and shooting everyone she sees. Let’s just say you don’t eat dogs or cats, but why would the pigs, chickens, cows and others have to go through such tragic lives? Their animals too. 

Three: It’s healthy
The meat we eat now are stuffed with drugs to make them fatter and grow faster that the risk of getting sick today is higher than in the previous decades.
A huge company in the Philippines, a really huge one I can’t dare name it, has their chickens inside a 24 hour air-conditioned warehouse, since this type of poultry can’t stand the heat in the country and would pre-maturely die of heatstroke. It’s those featherless, headless chicken you now see in supermarkets that are wrapped in plastic and are placed in ice in the wet section. 

Four: You give a hand to nature by eating veggies and help prevent global warming
Believe it or not, you add more greenhouse gases by eating meat than by driving a car, what more if you do both?

Five:  When you buy something, you don’t just use it or consume it for its purpose. You vote for
It. If you bought a pair of jeans that was made in China and was made in a sweat shop with children as laborers then you vote for child labor.

It requires will power and discipline to be a vegetarian but it can be done.

This is Virka. She lives in Olongapo with my friend. My favorite dog among dozens of dogs in the household.

 I give Virka baths whenever I come over to my friend's place and walk her whenever I can. Dogs are nice pets but I prefer cats.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

Have we met before?

What if we have met in a bar or a library or a place we’ve both forgotten, went home together and had a night that was scarcely remembered and eventually erased in our memories and now, dear me, have met again in a new setting and the only thing we both recall was… we’ve met before…

Let's drink... We don't exist.

I took the bite size apple that was pierced by a small fork to my mouth and chewed, troubled. My brows curled on my forehead as I looked at this woman before me with thick black framed glasses, holding a plate of fruits and eating by my side. That was the feeling, that strange feeling of knowing you’ve met her before but you couldn’t just keep it alone to yourself because in some twisted event, she too felt the same way.

I could have avoided it in the beginning but when the moment our eyes met it was as though the moment froze and out of unconscious behavior we both reacted awkwardly. It was a ghost of someone you knew but don’t remember at all.

I broke the icy environment by saying “Have we met before?” the glassy ice exploded into millions of tiny little fragments. Always the brave soul, I am.
“I believe so, I don’t know… I don’t know where and when…” she replied. Strange, that I too, don’t exactly know where and when and how.
So we started asking each other’s name, ringing a bell at the back of my head that perhaps have echoed to the passages of her ears as well.
“How… how was the cheerleading thing?” I asked assuming she was the performance artist I often meet during art exhibits.
“Uhh… what? No, I’m not a cheerleader. Perhaps we’ve met in a book launch?” she asked
“This is the first book launch I’ve gone to. So you’re not the performance artist.” I said.

She laughed quietly “I’m afraid not,” she said and asked me if I’ve been to this place, that I can’t recall anymore but I know my answer was no. We asked where we lived, studied and worked. None of them were a possibility of ever meeting, awfully strange that we know each other or at least felt that way.
“Did,” I started “Did we meet in a bar? Do you go to Bed Malate?” I asked coyly
She smiled “No, I don’t think we met that way…” we were thinking the same thing, (refer to the first paragraph of this blogpost)
I gave a sigh of relief “That’s great, I don’t usually go to bars,” I smiled embarrassed “But if we have met somewhere that way I don’t think I could forgive myself and would most probably throw myself to the Pasig river…”
The balcony of Powerbooks overlooked the tranquil ponds and plants of Greenbelt 4 under the warm but fainting sunset of the day.
“Maybe we’ve never met before… perhaps we just feel that way.” I said, staring and absorbed in observing the falling leaves that canopied the balcony.
“I think so too…” she said, eating her fruits.

“Or, we’ve met in the past life?” I laughed at my suggested idea
Her eyes widened “That could be a good possibility!” she said
We both laughed, I finished my fruits and she went to talk to her friends which one of them was my mentor.
I placed my plate down and gave my farewell to my mentor.

“You’ve met her before?” he asked me
“Oh, ahh… perhaps. Neither of us remembered.” I admitted
She smiled. “She works for (the biggest bookstore in the country)” my mentor said.
“That’s nice.” I remarked
“Now, Veronica is a fiction writer. Her books would have to go through you before it’s out in the market” he said
“Really? That’s interesting” she said
I said I was going and we exchanged calling cards. “A book buyer for fiction and literature?” I said reading aloud her card.
We shook hands and I left, boggled.

The event reminded me of Eternal Sunshine in the Spotless mind and this song...

Recently I have been feeling this sort of High-ness. When I told my friend about it she asked “You meditate right? How often do you meditate?”

“Every day at least twice and at long intervals…” I answered “It’s been going on for more than a week now. Earlier when I was riding the bus, I felt that my serotonin levels were abnormally high and I was… blissfully swaying in the bus.” I laughed.

“Wow, more than a week! That’s long, well you meditate for hours anyway. Meditation does that. Gives you a natural high similar to marijuana but better” she said.
“Oh..” I said… 

Starting that day (Which was only last Saturday) I abstained from meditating. I wanted to know how I would normally be feeling but when I am idle, I automatically go this state of meditation so I break away. Then again, I haven’t meditated much this week, only shorter and brief ones. 

Vegan Powers alright... 

Friday, April 1, 2011

Emily's Americanization

No other movie has moved me more than this film.


“The Americanization of Emily” Starring Julie Andrews and James Garner
This is ultimately one of my favorite romantic-comedies of all time. 

Julie Andrews is Emily Barham, a driver to the Dog-Robber Charlie Madison.

Dog-Robbers are one of the most essential men who work for the military who aids Men of higher ranks in the institution such as Admirals and Generals. They see to it that these men of honors are well fed, well dressed and aren’t lonely when the evening has loomed in.

Set in World War II, the film depicts the absurdities and casualties of war in a less grotesque manner and still with the quirkiness of the humor in those times. Presenting the shameful reality of war that has been cloaked by the flying colors of honor, valor and insignificant monuments to cover up the harsh realities of death.
An immature man would rather die an honorable death rather than live an honorable life.
War is ugly, it’s irrational and it’s still alive in our times. It’s still quite evident everywhere and perhaps would never disappear on the face of the planet.
It is nothing more than a play between two entities, one has power and the other one wants it.

I am for peace. Om Shanti.

I saw a vintage photo of this film in one of the flea stores in Cubao Expo, and bought it since I was sort of excited to move to a new apartment this month and I can’t wait to have it framed and displayed in my new room.

Julie Andrews The Americanization of Emily

“I’ve told myself a hundred times, don’t get earnest about this man, it’s a casual thing. A brief passionate explosion. Don’t get sticky about it for heaven’s sake…
Well I’m sticky Charlie, I’m sticky as hell. I’m insanely in love with you. “