at a certain point in people's lives, they tend to dream of being in another person's shoes. sometimes it's because of misery, lack of opportunity, envy, or just plain curiosity on how it feels to be somebody else, say, Bianca Araneta or the Ayalas. i myself have my own share of wishing my soul to be transported into another mass of flesh for a day, or even just for an hour. i still want to know how ecstatic it feels to be a Katie Holmes and be kissed by my future ex-husband, Tom Cruise, or be an Angelina Jolie and sleep with the oh-so-damn-hot Brad Pitt. when i was younger and naive on politics (i'm not even wiser on it today), it was during the turnover of the presidency of Ex-President Fidel Ramos to Ex-(okay) just Erap, i wondered if i could transfer into the dilapidated vessel of this then president-wannabe action star, take full control of his movements minus the feeling, punch his chest endlessly, hit his head on a rock, then escape from his body afterwards, leaving him no decent temple to go back into anymore. until now it makes me laugh whenever i remember myself lying on the couch while watching that political threat, and asking Voldemort if Ramos could declare martial law just in time before Erap could get the position.
but what if there really is a way to experience this kind of phenomenal insanity? if Stuart (Liev Schreiber) made his way into 1876 to know more about Leopold (Hugh Jackman) in the 2001 film Kate and Leopold, Craig Schwartz (John Cusack) discovered a portal into the eyes, and him being an excellent puppeteer, he found a way even into the whole being of John Malkovich (himself) in the film Being John Malkovich, which is two years older than the former. wait, i'm not making a movie review, am i? poor me, had i not been curious about Jessica Zafra's The 500 People You Meet in Hell, i won't know this movie anyway. well, at least now i know that there was a response the same year the corniest song ever "Stay the Same" by Joey Mcintyre was released.
i did find it amazing to see the reality (or fantasy) behind being in another's body, whereas mine, the audience, an absolute panoramic view of what people see and think while being in Malkovich for 15 minutes, like they were somehow capable of doing the things this universe has deprived them of since they were breathed life into, i felt omniscient.
realizations and the urge to detach myself from total entertainment (because the film was way hilarious, weird, and full of nuance) dawned upon me when Malkovich entered the portal to his own self. what he saw, heard, and felt was about nothing else but himself. everyone had his face. even women and children did. every word written was Malkovich. every word said was none other than Malkovich. he bumped into a man, and instead of welcoming a crisp "fuck you," he absorbed a curse labeled after his very own name, "Malkovich!!!"
it... i mean... you see the point? that, indeed, is what happens when we use our own eyes to perceive the world, because the truth is, seeing life through the eyes alone means a view of nothing more than ourselves. WE ARE ALL SELF-CENTERED. shoot me straight in the head if you know someone who's not. has anyone never ever thought, when he was younger, of him being the only real person on earth and the rest of humanity being obstacles given by the good Lord to test his strength? this might be a strong statement and/or accusation, but people are so used to saying the absolute cliché, "everything happens for a reason," yet they refuse to admit the idea that they see other people as instruments to realizing their own selves. pathetic...
my college friends will kill me for this ego-centrism post, but this certainly is not in a limited-theory-of-mind sense. we all have our take on this thing, and as they say, "we are all generally selfish, but as usual, it is in varying degrees." i believe that it is because our consciousness has been incarcerated and repressed for the longest time, that sometimes, it's like we feel that our minds are being betrayed by the movements of our bodies. we are slaves of our own faculties. we all crave for freedom, and we find ways to somehow take a replacement for that feeling which can never be completely ours.
then again, of course we are all capable of loving others, yada yada, and all the corny stuff, but, admit it or not, it is a love that emanated from the love of thy own SELF. we love people and we want to be with them because they put US in cloud nine. we help others for the fulfillment of OUR being. we do not want to see them suffer because their misery gives US greater pain, and WE are tired of grieving, aren't WE? this world is full of I-LOVE-MYSELF-and-I-LOVE-PEOPLE-AROUND-ME-because-I-LOVE-MYSELF-period attitude. i suddenly remembered our professor when he reminded us of our Bible code that God created us to love, know and praise "HIM".
now we must not wonder why we are all egocentric...
Monday, November 17, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
chamber of secrets
(don't worry, Twilight fans, this is not a Harry Potter post in response to your addiction.)
as i was bloghopping earlier, i came across this entry of my classmate, Monique, about secrets shared anonymously over the net... and as i visited the site, i happened to have my own favorites...
some pictures were posted with corresponding messages, and there's this one that moved me the most:
I googled my secret...
Frank,
In April of this year you posted a secret of mine, it was a painting that read "when you stopped loving me...i stopped painting."
A friend of mine asked to see my paintings while I was at his house yesterday. I don't have any of them online, so, I did a Google Images search for "PostSecret Painting" not expecting to actually find it.
It was the first image to show up!
I was surprised, but more than that, I was moved. I felt like that secret was personal to me, that very few would identify with it. It's posted on blogs and in personal photo albums, even on myspace pages!
Seeing it again reminded me what it felt like to send it in. It reminded me how great it feels to be free from it.
- The Painter
now, with my being so-not-over-this-letting-go-thing, i wonder if there's any site where we can entrust the things we would like to detach from. there's a fine line between "throwing" and "letting go." i just know that one day, when your eyes landed on the things you have let go of before, you will feel the same way the painter did.
as i was bloghopping earlier, i came across this entry of my classmate, Monique, about secrets shared anonymously over the net... and as i visited the site, i happened to have my own favorites...
some of those are the naughty ones,
uplifting,
and others, sentimental...
some pictures were posted with corresponding messages, and there's this one that moved me the most:
I googled my secret...
Frank,
In April of this year you posted a secret of mine, it was a painting that read "when you stopped loving me...i stopped painting."
A friend of mine asked to see my paintings while I was at his house yesterday. I don't have any of them online, so, I did a Google Images search for "PostSecret Painting" not expecting to actually find it.
It was the first image to show up!
I was surprised, but more than that, I was moved. I felt like that secret was personal to me, that very few would identify with it. It's posted on blogs and in personal photo albums, even on myspace pages!
Seeing it again reminded me what it felt like to send it in. It reminded me how great it feels to be free from it.
- The Painter
now, with my being so-not-over-this-letting-go-thing, i wonder if there's any site where we can entrust the things we would like to detach from. there's a fine line between "throwing" and "letting go." i just know that one day, when your eyes landed on the things you have let go of before, you will feel the same way the painter did.
colorgenics
(dahil kay jc, napa-blog ulit ako. haha!)
color tests and other kinds of psychological tests available in the internet, i think, are programs designed for lonely and disturbed people. although i am not as lonely as you think, and definitely not as disturbed as i look, i am a big fan of them, but i still hold on to the idea that these things were cooked up to secure a surrogate friend who can tell you how he thinks things are going on in your life... and most of the time, they're damn right!
this one's from GOLDINUNIVERSE:
You are looking for excitement and stimulation and you are ready to try anything - but be careful not to take too many risks.
Enough is enough - but the problems never seem to stop. They never stop. You feel, and maybe you are right, that the problems seem to go on and on and you have indeed had more than your fair share of trials and tribulations. But to give you credit - you bounce back time and time again - you stick to your beliefs because deep down you have that inner knowledge, that 'belief' system that in the end, everything will turn out OK - and you are right -it will!
As of late, you have been experiencing untold stress and this is a result of continuous frustration. You haven't been taking care of all your physical needs and it's beginning to show. It would seem that you have a need to find someone to whom you can really relate - someone perhaps whose standards are as high as your own. You want to be different - to be individualistic - to stand out from the common herd. Your inherent control of your sensual instincts is restricting your ability to give yourself to open up freely but this being on your own, being lonely, often makes you feel the need to give up some of your strict standards to surrender to the general flow - to be like everyone else; a part of the herd. Deep down you regard such instincts as weaknesses to be overcome. You would like to be loved or admired for yourself alone. You demand recognition and tender loving care.
There is that inherent fear that you may be prevented from attaining the better things in life - those things that you consider essential to your well-being. So you are prepared to try everything to prove to yourself that whatever you do or try will go wrong. This destructive attitude could come under the heading of 'a self fulfilling prophesy'. This belittling yourself is your method of disguising how hopeless and what a waste of time you feel that everything is. So now turn it about. As you 'think', so you are... So 'imagine' yourself successful. 'Pretend', 'act it out' and you may be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.
can i just make a protest on the last paragraph? i just think that it's too pathetic, and it's as sure as hell not me. just because black topped the list of my preference doesn't mean i'm a total loser. yes, sometimes i give up, but tell me, is there anyone who's prepared to try everything to prove to himself that whatever he does or try will go wrong? it sounds hilarious, doesn't it? ^o^
color tests and other kinds of psychological tests available in the internet, i think, are programs designed for lonely and disturbed people. although i am not as lonely as you think, and definitely not as disturbed as i look, i am a big fan of them, but i still hold on to the idea that these things were cooked up to secure a surrogate friend who can tell you how he thinks things are going on in your life... and most of the time, they're damn right!
this one's from GOLDINUNIVERSE:
Name: tinapie
Date: 11/16/2008
Colorgenics Number: 71532460
Enough is enough - you feel frustrated and rejected. You are fighting back and the going is tough. It would be just wonderful if you could be left in peace.
You are looking for excitement and stimulation and you are ready to try anything - but be careful not to take too many risks.
Enough is enough - but the problems never seem to stop. They never stop. You feel, and maybe you are right, that the problems seem to go on and on and you have indeed had more than your fair share of trials and tribulations. But to give you credit - you bounce back time and time again - you stick to your beliefs because deep down you have that inner knowledge, that 'belief' system that in the end, everything will turn out OK - and you are right -it will!
As of late, you have been experiencing untold stress and this is a result of continuous frustration. You haven't been taking care of all your physical needs and it's beginning to show. It would seem that you have a need to find someone to whom you can really relate - someone perhaps whose standards are as high as your own. You want to be different - to be individualistic - to stand out from the common herd. Your inherent control of your sensual instincts is restricting your ability to give yourself to open up freely but this being on your own, being lonely, often makes you feel the need to give up some of your strict standards to surrender to the general flow - to be like everyone else; a part of the herd. Deep down you regard such instincts as weaknesses to be overcome. You would like to be loved or admired for yourself alone. You demand recognition and tender loving care.
There is that inherent fear that you may be prevented from attaining the better things in life - those things that you consider essential to your well-being. So you are prepared to try everything to prove to yourself that whatever you do or try will go wrong. This destructive attitude could come under the heading of 'a self fulfilling prophesy'. This belittling yourself is your method of disguising how hopeless and what a waste of time you feel that everything is. So now turn it about. As you 'think', so you are... So 'imagine' yourself successful. 'Pretend', 'act it out' and you may be pleasantly surprised at the outcome.
can i just make a protest on the last paragraph? i just think that it's too pathetic, and it's as sure as hell not me. just because black topped the list of my preference doesn't mean i'm a total loser. yes, sometimes i give up, but tell me, is there anyone who's prepared to try everything to prove to himself that whatever he does or try will go wrong? it sounds hilarious, doesn't it? ^o^
Thursday, November 13, 2008
sinong may sabi na dapat lahat ng post may kwenta?
gusto kong mag-post ng napaka-walang kwentang entry ngayon. una sa lahat, hindi naman ako preacher o teacher, kaya wala ka talagang matututunan sa mga pinagsususulat ko. 'pag binasa mo 'to, maiintindihan kita... wala ka ring magawa sa buhay mo ngayon ano? marami kang gustong i-post, pero tinatamad ka rin ba kagaya ako? or you just can't put them into words?
gusto ko lang mag-post kasi masarap umepal ngayon. ilang minuto na lang, 2 a.m. na. kung sana lang hindi na ako nag-post ng ganitong kawalang-kwentang post, e di sana naumpisahan ko na yung entry na gusto ko talagang i-post. sana rin hindi ka na nagababasa ng napakawalang-kwentang entry na 'to.
pero bakit binabasa mo pa rin? jologs 'tong ginagawa ko, men. parang yung mga walang kakwena-kwentang comments sa friendster na "hi, maikli lang 'to. kakamustahin lang sana kita, pero busy ka yata kaya naisip ko, hindi na lang, ayoko sanang maka-istorbo, pero sana kahit papaano ay na-appreciate mo yung pangungumusta ko. ano, kumusta ka na? yada, yada, yada" at yung notorious na classic testi na "eto ang pinaka-walang kwentang testi, blah blah, blah." i'm sure binasa mo 'yung mga 'yun, at sa dinami-dami ng pwedeng basahin, isa 'yun sa mga natapos mo. e bakit nga ba? sino bang may sabi na dapat lahat ng post e may kwenta? bawal bang magsulat ng hindi pinag-iisipan? bobo ka na ba once makita ng tao yung side mo na napaka-walang kwenta? and on top of it, dapat bang laging maganda ang i-project mo sa mga tao? ang hirap mag-edit ng sarili. 'wag kang plastik. mas masaya pa rin maging jologs. chillax lang...
kung ang tao nga minsan salita na lang nang salita, wala namang kwenta yung sinasabi eh. may natututunan ka ba sa kanila? yung mga prof mo, minsan, dakdak lang nang dakdak, may naiintindihan ka ba? wala naman diba? baka rin kasi minsan, ayaw mo lang talagang tanggapin ang mga naririnig mo. tunog lang naman 'yang mga 'yan eh. lilipas rin sila. wala pa 'kong alam na pagkahaba-habang salita na lumampas ng three seconds 'pag binigkas. oo na, sige na. supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. walang three seconds diba? ano pa? 'wag kang pilosopo. i'm not talking about compound words. yung mga isahan lang. nosebleed eh.
pero hindi naman lahat ng nakakausap mong walang kwentang magsalita ay senseless. masarap lang talaga minsan kumawala. dapat ba lahat ng stories ay happy or sad ending at may lesson? e paano kung sa gitna pa lang ng kwento e bigla na lng natapos at hindi mo na alam kung ano nang nangyari? nag-brown out kumbaga, o sadyang walang kwenta lang ang plot. bitin diba? kahit sa totoong buhay may ganyan. hindi rin 'yung mga kasing predictable ng mga pelikulang pinoy na naka-template na. iniiba na lang yung love team at yung setting, e pwede mo nang hulaan yung ending. yayaman ang inaapi. masusunog/masasagasaan/mababaril/masasabugan, at eventually, mamamatay na kunwari ang kontrabida, pero hindi pala. buhay pa pala siya. pero magwawagi pa rnang bida. bida 'yun eh! e bakit 'yun may nanonood pa rin? at bakit sa mga ganito ay may nagbabasa pa rin? see?
salamat nga pala ah... :)
gusto ko lang mag-post kasi masarap umepal ngayon. ilang minuto na lang, 2 a.m. na. kung sana lang hindi na ako nag-post ng ganitong kawalang-kwentang post, e di sana naumpisahan ko na yung entry na gusto ko talagang i-post. sana rin hindi ka na nagababasa ng napakawalang-kwentang entry na 'to.
pero bakit binabasa mo pa rin? jologs 'tong ginagawa ko, men. parang yung mga walang kakwena-kwentang comments sa friendster na "hi, maikli lang 'to. kakamustahin lang sana kita, pero busy ka yata kaya naisip ko, hindi na lang, ayoko sanang maka-istorbo, pero sana kahit papaano ay na-appreciate mo yung pangungumusta ko. ano, kumusta ka na? yada, yada, yada" at yung notorious na classic testi na "eto ang pinaka-walang kwentang testi, blah blah, blah." i'm sure binasa mo 'yung mga 'yun, at sa dinami-dami ng pwedeng basahin, isa 'yun sa mga natapos mo. e bakit nga ba? sino bang may sabi na dapat lahat ng post e may kwenta? bawal bang magsulat ng hindi pinag-iisipan? bobo ka na ba once makita ng tao yung side mo na napaka-walang kwenta? and on top of it, dapat bang laging maganda ang i-project mo sa mga tao? ang hirap mag-edit ng sarili. 'wag kang plastik. mas masaya pa rin maging jologs. chillax lang...
kung ang tao nga minsan salita na lang nang salita, wala namang kwenta yung sinasabi eh. may natututunan ka ba sa kanila? yung mga prof mo, minsan, dakdak lang nang dakdak, may naiintindihan ka ba? wala naman diba? baka rin kasi minsan, ayaw mo lang talagang tanggapin ang mga naririnig mo. tunog lang naman 'yang mga 'yan eh. lilipas rin sila. wala pa 'kong alam na pagkahaba-habang salita na lumampas ng three seconds 'pag binigkas. oo na, sige na. supercalifragilisticexpialidocious. walang three seconds diba? ano pa? 'wag kang pilosopo. i'm not talking about compound words. yung mga isahan lang. nosebleed eh.
pero hindi naman lahat ng nakakausap mong walang kwentang magsalita ay senseless. masarap lang talaga minsan kumawala. dapat ba lahat ng stories ay happy or sad ending at may lesson? e paano kung sa gitna pa lang ng kwento e bigla na lng natapos at hindi mo na alam kung ano nang nangyari? nag-brown out kumbaga, o sadyang walang kwenta lang ang plot. bitin diba? kahit sa totoong buhay may ganyan. hindi rin 'yung mga kasing predictable ng mga pelikulang pinoy na naka-template na. iniiba na lang yung love team at yung setting, e pwede mo nang hulaan yung ending. yayaman ang inaapi. masusunog/masasagasaan/mababaril/masasabugan, at eventually, mamamatay na kunwari ang kontrabida, pero hindi pala. buhay pa pala siya. pero magwawagi pa rnang bida. bida 'yun eh! e bakit 'yun may nanonood pa rin? at bakit sa mga ganito ay may nagbabasa pa rin? see?
salamat nga pala ah... :)
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
dusting off
i have this piece of crap called room. you can find all kinds of (yes, you genius!) crap in it. from old books and papers to soil and cobwebs, all the things in it seldom see the sun. i was driven to do "a little letting go" (if the phrase would permit me to borrow some sense) this afternoon. it might sound ridiculous but i suddenly realized that there's this subtle kind of poetry in the act of throwing most of the things that remind you of the bitter past, while also finding those that made it worthwhile.
how do i say so? whenever i do a general cleaning, which is, of course, as seldom as an eclipse, i start off with the topmost part. it won't take long before you realize that i'm trying hard to associate this thing with the brain. believe me. so there. let the dust fall on the things that are more capable of holding filth―those that are easier to clean. and of course, one must do the cleaning when he is harsh and most detached from the world, because if not, it will be harder to sift what to keep from what to abolish.
normally, i take the books from the shelf, clean them one-by-one, and put them back to their places; but this time, i yanked all of them down to my bed and stared at the heap i have created. now this is a pretty hard task―to look at the vaults of your knowledge and decide whether to pass them on to someone who might need the same enlightenment or keep them for future self-rehebilitation.
for someone who's no good in any household chore, cleaning is the most tiring yet the most exciting and overwhelming of all. it feels good to recollect your youth personally. cleaning brings back old things. and you don't have to be surprised to find out that you have been a good secret keeper. your chamber contains lots of secrets you've probably forgotten by now. in most cases, nothing will change even if you spill them out. like a herd of whores, youthful secrets lose their value as they age. they might have been made known to the public anyway. these are the mundane secrets of your youth, and are now the subjects of laughter. continue testing your tongue if you want to set a new record for the best-kept secret ever, and people might ask you, "where have you been all these days?"
in my crap, i didn't find much secrets. my best friends were gone long after high school that i don't have any today. i'm referring to that one friend you call "best friend." no secrets were "re-revealed again for the second time around" in its utmost redundancy, but pictures of how strange i looked years ago.. nude pictures of me with fictitious pentel-marked panties.. awkward poses and uneasy crescent smiles.. red-eye and closed-eye snaps while everyone else in the picture seemed in glorious state.. how i looked like with a pimple-sized nose, punch in the mouth, fence-like teeth, and bangs.. how i wore my hair in pony tail, the ends touching the straps of my jumper.. and um, yes, minus the boobs, of course. i looked like a little boy.. and the fashion, not just of me but of people around me. the hair! solid!
the joy of reuniting with the things that made up the totality of your being equals that of letting go of your excess baggage. as what my friend, Jaycee, found in that Oprah thing, "You always do a little growing up everytime you do a little letting go." and i guess, acceptance and detachment are the crucial steps to finally let go of something you've held on for so long. like toys and things you keep because they were your firsts (first pencil, first pay slip, first college papers) eventually, you must let go of them because you don't want to make a dump site out of your body. one can't just contain all the things and emotions he had in a lifetime. successful people are always moving forward and there's always a give-up story in every success. move a little and give room for something fresh. give up something good if you want something better.. just that. if only it were that easy..
i gave a final sweep of everything from under my bed and table. how much junk has accumulated there was epic. now my room isn't a crap anymore. give it some weeks and maybe it'll look like a jungle again. but for now, i see it as a sanctuary for my tired body.
well, since Jaycee starred in this entry. let me steal his comment on my friendster, "tap me when it's about time to cram, procrastinate, and make everything work at crunch time. for now, it's a date with the pillows."
how do i say so? whenever i do a general cleaning, which is, of course, as seldom as an eclipse, i start off with the topmost part. it won't take long before you realize that i'm trying hard to associate this thing with the brain. believe me. so there. let the dust fall on the things that are more capable of holding filth―those that are easier to clean. and of course, one must do the cleaning when he is harsh and most detached from the world, because if not, it will be harder to sift what to keep from what to abolish.
normally, i take the books from the shelf, clean them one-by-one, and put them back to their places; but this time, i yanked all of them down to my bed and stared at the heap i have created. now this is a pretty hard task―to look at the vaults of your knowledge and decide whether to pass them on to someone who might need the same enlightenment or keep them for future self-rehebilitation.
for someone who's no good in any household chore, cleaning is the most tiring yet the most exciting and overwhelming of all. it feels good to recollect your youth personally. cleaning brings back old things. and you don't have to be surprised to find out that you have been a good secret keeper. your chamber contains lots of secrets you've probably forgotten by now. in most cases, nothing will change even if you spill them out. like a herd of whores, youthful secrets lose their value as they age. they might have been made known to the public anyway. these are the mundane secrets of your youth, and are now the subjects of laughter. continue testing your tongue if you want to set a new record for the best-kept secret ever, and people might ask you, "where have you been all these days?"
in my crap, i didn't find much secrets. my best friends were gone long after high school that i don't have any today. i'm referring to that one friend you call "best friend." no secrets were "re-revealed again for the second time around" in its utmost redundancy, but pictures of how strange i looked years ago.. nude pictures of me with fictitious pentel-marked panties.. awkward poses and uneasy crescent smiles.. red-eye and closed-eye snaps while everyone else in the picture seemed in glorious state.. how i looked like with a pimple-sized nose, punch in the mouth, fence-like teeth, and bangs.. how i wore my hair in pony tail, the ends touching the straps of my jumper.. and um, yes, minus the boobs, of course. i looked like a little boy.. and the fashion, not just of me but of people around me. the hair! solid!
the joy of reuniting with the things that made up the totality of your being equals that of letting go of your excess baggage. as what my friend, Jaycee, found in that Oprah thing, "You always do a little growing up everytime you do a little letting go." and i guess, acceptance and detachment are the crucial steps to finally let go of something you've held on for so long. like toys and things you keep because they were your firsts (first pencil, first pay slip, first college papers) eventually, you must let go of them because you don't want to make a dump site out of your body. one can't just contain all the things and emotions he had in a lifetime. successful people are always moving forward and there's always a give-up story in every success. move a little and give room for something fresh. give up something good if you want something better.. just that. if only it were that easy..
i gave a final sweep of everything from under my bed and table. how much junk has accumulated there was epic. now my room isn't a crap anymore. give it some weeks and maybe it'll look like a jungle again. but for now, i see it as a sanctuary for my tired body.
well, since Jaycee starred in this entry. let me steal his comment on my friendster, "tap me when it's about time to cram, procrastinate, and make everything work at crunch time. for now, it's a date with the pillows."
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