blogging is still cool

The last time I have written anything in here, or have written anything at all, was last July. That's three months. Have my life been that boring? A little, maybe.

Today, I have, once again, seen Julie and Julia. I still love it after the third viewing. My BFF loved it, too. It was my second time when I watched it with her. We were texting earlier while I'm watching the movie. She said that it's the best movie she has seen so far this year, and that she wants to watch it again some other time.

I replied by saying that one of my reasons in staying with the job I can't stand is for us to be able to watch more movies, especially now that the Oscars is nearing.

Adventureland

Watching Adventureland makes me believe that love can fix anything; that everything will be alright for as long as you are inlove with someone who actually loves you back. It gives me hope that someday, and I hope this does not take that long, I will be able to meet someone I can fall in love with inspite of the person's imperfections. When I write imperfections, that includes the person's past - which could turn out to be as dark as you can imagine. You will love that person because there's nothing that would feel right other than doing so.

leaving

They took the same way when they went home after rendering post shift over time for four hours. Both felt wasted from over working. Although, in reality, they did not do anything for the entire four hours other than waiting for their shift to end. They were silent while walking side by side on the sidewalk. Only the sound of the passing cars kept the awkwardness of their silence from being noticed.

When are you leaving?, John asked.

On the 7th, he replied.

They went on walking.

Why are you leaving anyway?

Because of you, he joked.

This is all your fault. Then he smiled when he saw John smiled.

Then they were silent again for a few minutes.

Is it?, John asked when they were about to part ways. John will have to cross the street to get a cab home.

I'm sorry?

Is it? Is it really my fault?

He just smiled and hailed a taxi.

Don't be late tomorrow, he said and went inside the cab.

The taxi went off. He looked back and saw John still standing on the same spot where he left him. John's image was vague from a distance, but he was certain that the man standing on that very spot is the man he fell in love to.

on sedaris

I have been reading some of Sedaris' works that were featured on The New Yorker. I can't help but admire the man's craft. His ability to express what it is he expresses defines him as a person. And he does express himself in such a way that touches one's heart, and awakens one's love and respect for literature. His language is easy on the eyes. He grabs one's attention by his prose.

Is he really, like, gay?

status: complicated

Funny when we notice how people complicate things. We always have a say on what should be or should have been done, and what should have not been done at all. We tend to act learned. Experts. But when the situation strikes and we find ourselves a part of the complication, we forget. And when advised to keep things simple, we tend to think they don't understand. It's complicated, we tell them. Just like in love, the more you fall to it, the comlicated it gets. We still love inspite of this. It hurts, yes. So what?

love is.

He is rather early for work today. As a matter of fact, he is three hours early. He buys a pack of cigar at a convenient store located on the ground floor, just beside the entrance of their office. Office. Such a funny word to describe the place where he is working at. At least for him it is. He decides to go straight up to the roof deck. What a great way to start the day than damaging your lungs some more, he thinks. He takes one stick and lights it up.

His heart starts beating really fast when he recognizes the person approaching him. It's M. He got this thing for the guy. And M knows it. M is the code he uses at the office so that not everybody would know who it is he has a crush on.

M lights his cigarette up and puffs the first smoke in a manner so seductive he can kill someone by it. But it is not M intention to seduce him. Or anybody for that matter. That he knows.

Why are you here so early, M asks.

To see you, he replies. Then they both laugh.

Seriously, he added after awhile.

The subtlety of how he expresses what's real, as they both know it, makes them laugh again.

duplicity.

The first scene was so beautiful. We see Tom Wilkinson and Paul Giamatti, shouting at each other at first then on a fist fight. Then I realized Elwsit photographed it. Robert Elswit is one of the many people I truly admire. He knows what he is doing, and he is doing it with such brilliance. I wonder if I can be that kind of person. Someone who is sure with what he wants (to do) and can do it with a heart. With love. With passion. I wonder when it will happen to me, or if it will ever happen at all.

about M.

I have not written anything in here in a long time. Been so into Facebook and Twitter lately, so I sort of not been able to find time to blog. And there's M. The reason why I am so eager to go to work everyday inspite the fact that I despise what I do there. If only I have been able to find the time, I would have written so many entries by now. All about M. That would probably bore others, including myself. But that would be the most honest I can get. Ever. I'm thinking record-breaking.

he can be joker, only he's not funny

I am literally addicted to The Office. In case you haven't heard of it yet (Shame on you. Just kidding), it's an American TV series aired by NBC (I think). It stars Steve Carell as Michael, who is so obnoxious you'd kill yourself whenever he's around. What is so annoying about him is that he doesn't seem to be aware that he is, well, very annoying. He thinks of himself otherwise.

'The office' is in a chaos all the time. All the time. This needs to be emphasized. You have people like Dwight there- who is, by the way, as spiteful as Michael. But there are cute and lovable characters as well like Jim and Pam. I like Toby, too, for reasons still unclear to me. Although 'the office' can be as hell as any other working environment can be, I would love to be in there. I want to be a part of a family of crazy individuals who can sometimes be difficult to deal with. Because in the 'the office', and this is just based on how I feel when watching it, you feel alive. You know that feeling when you think that something bad happens you think ruins everything, by the end of the day, when you're already lying on your bed, you still feel happy and content? I don't know how to explain it. I just feel it sometimes. That's I think how it would feel working there.

And the thing I said (or wrote) about Michael awhile ago is what you'd probably see when you see him. However, there are moments that you would think he knows exactly how obnoxious he is. He is just trying to be likable, and he fails terribly. He is still the best boss in the world for me though, as what we see is printed on his mug

to the Z

I have watched 17 Again again this afternoon. Why? Well, aside from the fact that I do not have anything else to do and that I am bored to death (I am just exaggerating, ofcourse), I do not feel that well. On the inside. I am glad to have seen the movie again. There are moments in there that when you look at Efron and pay very close attention, you'd see not only great talent but sincerity. And it fucking kills me. Seriously.

M.

We were at a coffee shop along Boni Ave., our favorite place. It used to be our favorite place. I am not really in the mood for coffee, but you were very insistent. A frap isn't that bad, I joked.

How are you, I asked.

Fine.

Just fine?

Then I looked at you in the eyes, and I knew right then.

You're not inlove anymore, are you?

I don't know.

You don't know?

I don't know.

Okay.

Okay.

So what now?, I asked.

I don't know.

Okay.

Okay, you said. Then you looked away.

And that was it. Sometimes people fall out of love because they have found someone new to fall inlove with. Sometimes, they get tired of being the only one who loves. And sometimes, they just do. It's the hardest because you can't do anything about it.

i am not there

I am not there
but I see you, I hear you, I feel you.
I am not there
but you are here in my mind, in my heart, in my soul.
I am not there
but you linger in my dreams, in my memory, in my pain.
I am not there.
I am not there.
But I am here loving, living, and waiting.
I am here.
I am ready.
I am here.
Hear.

untitled

It’s already past eight in the evening when he checked the clock that has been hanging on the wall behind the counter where the reservation for billiard tables takes place, and where he had been assigned when he had worked here, while studying at the same time, some two years ago. And if his estimation was correct, he had been here for more than thirty minutes already, waiting for him. He might not be coming afterall, he thought. It’s pretty much what he would have expected, if he was expecting anything at all. But he’ll stay and wait for him here until the place closes. It was his idea to meet him at Enricos’, a place usually frequented by college students after school, and which is usually full on Saturdays that the owner had to make a sign and post it outside the door to let those who were coming in that there’s no more room inside and to just come back later.

Five minutes later Lex arrived, wearing the usual smile he had been known for, the sweet and sincere one, and though this time it seemed unfamiliar to Alan, or distant, or that something felt off with it, he smiled back at him.

I’m glad you made it. I thought you’re not coming, Alan said, holding a can of soda in one hand and a cue stick on the other. Thanks, he continued.

No problemo, Lex replied, grabbing the stick from Alan’s grip. I don’t have anything to do, anyway.

They were childhood friends, Alan and Lex. They are still friends, Alan believed. But it has been a week that they haven’t talk to each other. No phone calls. No nothing. If Alan hadn’t seen him at school yesterday, and not asked him to meet tonight, this set up may took another week. Or months. Or years, maybe. Nobody can tell for sure. Funny how something so strong, something you thought is that strong, could collapse in just a blink of an eye just because of a stupid mistake. Something that can’t be un-done. It can happen even with friendship. Theirs was on the process of collapsing. One of them, atleast, thought so.

Haven’t you talk to her yet? Alan finally asked.

Who?

Lisa.

Nope. I don’t think it would be a great idea, I mean talking to her. He said, shifting his attention to Alan. And can we not talk about it, about her.

He wasn’t bitter. Not at all. He just didn’t like to talk about her or see her, that’s all. And he’s not blaming her for all of this. Not anymore. Things happen, sometimes, for no reason at all. They just happened. Like what Alan told him. His friend, for the life of him, didn’t even know why he did what he did, kissing her. His girl. He knew he shouldn’t have done it, and that he didn’t mean for all of this to happen. But what happened happened. He didn’t even asked any question about it, Lex. It’s too much to discuss, the situation.

They’ve been silent for a while. Lex seemed to be more focused in playing billiards , which both he and Alan knew he hated before, than the conversation itself. But Alan didn’t mind it.

I’ve talked to her yesterday, Alan said. I was on my way to my chem class when I saw her. She’s a mess now. You can tell if you’ve seen her. She told me she missed you, and that she was sorry too.

Did she asked you to tell me that? Tell her I’m flattered.

No, no. She didn’t. I thought you should know. Talk to her.

Silence.

Look, it was my fault. I’m really hoping we can talk about it, of what happened. I’m.. I am really sorry. I should have never done it. I know it’s too late, and that I couldn’t change what happened or turn back time. I feel stupid for doing what I’ve done.

Silence again. Lex heard him ofcourse but his attention was still fixed on the table where balls of different colors were waiting for him, for his next move.

I’m sorry. Alan said again.

Lex looked at him for a moment, smiled and after a few seconds, went on playing.

I know, he said before hitting number 7.

that familiar feeling

Yesterday, after watching 17 Again (I am surprised the movie turned out to be good, and that Efron can really act), I felt a very strange feeling. It was, and still is, strange it gives me a headache. The last time I felt this was when I was still with my previous work. I never thought I would feel it again. And I did. The good thing is that I don't feel lost this time, as I did before. On the contrary, I feel really good. I feel alive again.

But ofcourse, there's still tomorrow.

and i mean love

Every time I look at M's eyes, I can't help but smile and fall in love even more. M just has this power (or whatever you call it) that weakens me. Everytime. So I guess it is really love I am feeling. I am still trying to think that it's not, and obviously, I am not so successful in doing so. Now M is seated a few bays away from me and I am having a hard time concentrating. I am losing my focus.

On a completely different note, I am so fucking in love with Amy Winehouse's Take the box. For me, it is the best break up song. Ever. But I may not have totally understood what Amy has in mind when she sang it. So I can't really be sure that it is a break up song. Anyway, it is so genuine. It is indeed true that when Amy sings about love, she means every word she sings. And I love her for that. No matter how fucked up her life has become, she has it with her.

(See her live performance of the said song at BBC One Sessions on YouTube and feel her)

when it hurts so bad

So I am inlove. For the nth time. I'm trying to think that it's something else; something that could be mistaken as love but, in reality, is nothing in comparison with the said emotion. Ofcourse I was just hoping. The truth is I am really in love. Or atleast it feels like I am.

Normally, one becomes inspired when inlove. He or she tends to see only the beauty of a bad day, the light in the darkness. They tend to be manipulated by that strong emotion that they only see the other side of things.

Ofcourse this does not happen to me. I tend to feel otherwise. I tend to feel depressed. I feel like I shouldn't feel the love in the first place; that I am feeling the wrong kind of love for the wrong person. Most of the time, I try to just end the feeling, and most often than not, I fail in doing so. My friends would advise me to just let it be, to just feel it and get along with it. This way, it wouldn't hurt as bad, and wouldn't be as difficult to deal with. Those are just words, ofcourse. We all know that things are easier said than done. Experience taught us this. All the time.

And although I don't like the feeling of being inlove, and that I am very vocal on how much I want to stop it whenever I feel it, deep inside, and I am very certain about this, I want it. Because in all honesty, when it hurt so bad, sometimes, it really feels so good.

that road

Last month, I forced Nelmar, a friend of mine, to watch Revolutionary Road once it becomes available on the big screen here in the city. We both have seen the movie through our so called resources. I loved it right away on first viewing, and I was confident it would win major awards. Nelmar loved it, too, but not as much as I did. I wanted to still see it on the big screen because I thought it would be a totally different experience.

And it was. It was amazing. I loved it even more. (As a matter of fact, I am considering it to be my new number one. But there's Frost/Nixon, and not to mention my old favorites, so I am trying not to think so much about it. ) I am glad that Nelmar loved it more than he did the first time he had seen the film.

What is so great about the film is that it doesn't care about its audience. It is there to tell. It is almost a feel good not feel good film. I know it sounds crazy and confusing, but you probably get the idea. It is honest.

Funny how we think how a thing can be so beautiful without truly, in a sense, understanding it.

like mr. taxi driver

In Closer (which is, by the way, a great film), the beautiful Portman was photographed by Roberts. In one of the scenes, where a photo exhibit was held, Roberts' boyfriend asked Portman what she thinks of the photograph, her own. Portman told him that it was a lie; that it was a sad person photographed beautifully so that people can consider it art.

She has a point. What she didn't realize was that not everyone shares her views on art. That there are people who find the subject, that is the picture, beautiful not because it was taken with such artistry, but because the loneliness or sadness itself was captured. The truth, and its true essence, was captured.

This is the main reason why I love dark films, like Apocalypse Now, No Country For Old Men and the likes. Because sometimes, no matter how hard I try to see the beauty of every thing, I can't help but notice the ugliness and smell the filth of this so called life.

don't want to be in there

I have just finished reading David Foster Wallace's Wiggle Room. After reading the short story, which was featured in The New Yorker, I suddenly felt that familiar feeling. The feeling that always makes me feel sick. Not sick sick, but sick in a whole different sense. One that is far worse than being sick sick. And everytime I feel this way, I do not want to do anything but be home, and spend the rest of the day on my bed. Doing nothing. Not even thinking.

But I am not really sure if it was the story that bugs me. Maybe I'm just broken hearted. No one can be so certain about it. Not even myself. I'm not even sure if I am in love.

when love strikes

A few months ago (Wait, is it months already?) a friend of mine, a girl, was hurting because her boyfriend was abusing her. And with that I mean physically, mentally and emotionally. I was glad she decided to leave that poor bastard, although I know, deep in my heart, that it was very difficult for her. Now, she is hurting because she learned, through friendster, that the asshole has a new girlfriend. I keep on telling her that I am glad that happened. I would tell her that he doesn't deserve her. I would tell her that it would all be okay comes the time, and to just let herself feel whatever it is she's feeling right now. A time will come when she would get tired of all the hurt, and realize that it not worth it, afterall.

But I know that whatever I say, whatever argument I'd tell her, it's all useless. Because it is love we're talking about. She loves him. Reasons are nothing in love. And I know it.

her hotness, and spain

I was surfing the net last night when I suddenly thought of her hotness, Scarlett Johansson. Then I youtubed her Vicky Cristina Barcelona. I fell in love to its trailer right away that I felt the need to see it on the big screen right there and then. But since I am a little short as of the moment, I decided to just play the trailer non stop. Literally.

Did her hotness and Penolope really make out in the film? I will not be able to stand the scene if they did. It is too hot to handle. Just the thought of her hotness makes me a man. I wouldn't probably notice Javier (Let's keep it on the a first name basis way, your hotness, too?!) even if he stripped naked in the film. Okay. I may notice him, but not that much.