because I am a dancer, I may never have beautiful feet..
but I do not mind because ther is an unconventional therapy in dancing that strengthens the mind. it tries to trap reality into beats and rest and counts it un halves our full notes..
and when I dance, the world I live in is nothing compared to the heaven of music…
so I guess I may never have beautiful feet..but I may have a new reality in a world of music
because I am a dancer, I may never have beautiful feet..
but I do not mind because ther is an unconventional therapy in dancing that strengthens the mind. it tries to trap reality into beats and rest and counts it un halves our full notes..
and when I dance, the world I live in is nothing compared to the heaven of music…
It is so hard to control emotions..especially when people around your start to nurse it..because the people around us are so influencial, we are most of the time convinced by their sentiment.
even if sometimes you do not like a certain song or a certain music, you are sometimes convinced that it is beautiful just because an influencial person told you that she liked that music or film or a person or an idea..
most of the time, the start of a spark between two person maybe female to female, male ot male or to the opposite sex, starts with the idea from the third voice. and then the person involve nurses this idea and one of them start to make the move..
people get married because a mother or a father or a film or a segemt in Oprah convinces them that they should..
any person suffer from jealousy not because of personal matters but because of a third voice trying to convince him or her that he should get jealous.
that is why it is so hard to control emotions because afterall, we don’t control them in the first place..the third voice does…
Last night,I watched the Oscar Nominee film Babel. I did not planned to watch it..It just so happen that evrybody was busy in the house and I had nothing else to do. Pearl wasusing the internet and claire was busy conceptualizing her dance and kuya nino was well, I don’t know..he was locking himself in his room probably surfing the net or watching dvds as well.
and I was left with only one option to sure my boredom..whish was the dvd player.
at first, I tried to listen to songs by women artist. It sort of boost my enery at firts because it complimented the new arrangement of the house.. We had just rearranged the house furnitures and the new feel was so cozy it felt like we were in a cafe..
I for one wanted the new arrangement because the sala set was now paralleled to the dim lights and the dinner table was parallel to to high light which was the right thing to do architecturally.
and it was alot cozier in the sala area. so I hybernated in the bin bags for a while and then started going through the dvds while listening to imogen heap and all the really good artist when I came across a film called Babel.
I would be lying if I tell you that I have not heard about the movie.I know that it was good but I never really had the chance to watch it because of all the plates and all the exams and ofcourse our romanitic date with alvin..
so finally, i had the chance to watch it and well, let’s just say when my eyes started dropping, the eyelids come up again like a remote controlled stepford wife!
Babel was movie ofpure reality.It presented life and the inevitable circumstances of it. It showed that life is hopeless.
Babel, started with two kids accidentally shooting a tourist in Morocco. They were playing with this new gun their father bought over a goat from Hassan. Hassan, who originally owned the gun was a good friend of a japanese hunter who actually really owned the gun in legal papers. this japanees hunter had a daughter who was confused and depressed ove her mother’s suicide..
I like the way Inarrutu presented the story line and the chain reaction and connections of each character..because it was so real..and it tell us that simple gesture may lead to unevitable problems in the future..
in another connected story.the tourist that was such played by kate blanchet had a sona and a daughter. these kids were raise and taken cared of by a mexican yaya..
I was really touched by the mexican yaya part because it was close to a filipina yaya. see the thing is that the racism and bais of a darked skin molata was implicitly shown in the movie..
it was so sad because the film was trying to say that bias over skin color is inevitable..
and yes, it is…in the world that we live in…white colored people dominate that even with just an accidentalshot of a kid can lead to allegations like a terrorist shot these americans..etc..
see,it is so sad that stereotype and biases exist in this world..because whether we like ti or not…it is reality..and the sadest part of it is that their seemto be nothing else that we can do..
we know that problems like this happen but we can never to something about it.
sigh
after finishing the movie with my emotions hanging on dantes’ peak..I slept with accepting reality nevertheless
is their someone who looks at testimonials and just clean it up when he or she doesn’t like ti because I am getting the feeling that somebody is trying to piss me off by erasing my testimonials one by one!
isn’t it funny…i had the same experience two years ago when all my testimonials where erase which was the reason why I had a fight with my ex which was my boyfriend at that time..
who is this testimonila janitor anyway and he seems to be so romaniticized ..h’s so mysterious I could grab his hands and scrape of the skin of his fingers one by one and put salt in it!!
memories are traces of tears
- 2046-
memories are good if we do not have to deal with the pass
-before sunset-
However happy we may be in the present, at an instant, we always come across with the things in the pass. and this pass memories always bother us. at an instant, we always get to miss the aura of things and the feeling then when we still walk on the corridors of that timeline…
Is it because some part of us want to be in that corridor again or is it just because we had things not fairly painted and badly connected at that moment?
And the chances of unpainting that moment are small and this is the reason why keep on unburying it..because men always try to keep a perfect moment..but if a moment ends in either an instant or ends badly..we have the urge to perfect it..
but then we never get to unpaint it because time machine are not invented yet..so we just have to deal with the time machine available and these are our memories and the inevitable power of men to choose whether to forget them or rearranged them in the way we want it to be….
if I were to calculate your through integral calculus, the problem would go this way…
suppose that your brain in a shape of a sphere having fluids with a mass density of Pkg/m, calculate the work done to improve your information skills to a hundred percent, because you suck at that,…
I had just finishthe first part of my integral calculus exam and my god, all my brain cells were dripping from my ears even if it was just to calculate a stupid work done to raise a stupid water wtih a certain mass density, etc, etc..
Hallelujah by jeff buckley started my day right today..after dreaming of death, I instantly listened to Jeff Buckley and suddenly, the color of my life sinematography went into full contrast! the lights were so bright as warm bright like the sun beside mercury and the darkness were as cool as the dark colored sky after a rainy mist..
Lacrimosa, spare me, I am in love this song by regina spector. We keep on unburying our dead, we keep on planting their bones on the ground, but yes, they won’t grow, well, if only death was just a disease and there was something to prevent it, we would not have the urge to unbury the dead in the first place.
I dreamnt about death last night. When I woke up, pillow was full of tears. I honestly do not believe in dreams and their meanings but the dream was really horrible and it was as if life was no use at all because we all die anyway.
And it was as if the dreams were the reality and the reality we live in were just dreams..but then in my dream, death still exist and it was as if their was no prevention for death at all.
Spare me, if only we could unbury death and be happy. like how we unbury memories after realizing that they were worth keeping than burying deep down into the core of the earth……
And this time, I realize that sometimes emotions are more physical than the physical…..so spare me!
I am a certified movie addict. I even choose films over studying for an exam in integral calculus. and I read books that make me really cynical alot. I am an addict to these things because they create a new world for me; a world where I could see the real interpretation of life. When I read about Holden Caulfied’s lifestory and how he saw that every titsy bit of everything is just some lame phony thing we only tend to believe, he instantly became my hero and I instantly believed in him and every phony detail he said.
When I saw the movie "The city of Gods", I was convinced that every slum area has its own city of god and that I was not supposed to go those places because in fact, I am not one of those riot prone type of a person and I was not born in slums.
But then I still went to this kind of paradise in Davao even though my friends totally dicourage me and my partner from going, which made it even tempting; tempting like the things we do went our parents and all the ads say "don’t"; like a smoke of cigarette and a drink of a beer or a taste of a strangers juicy lips.
When I went to Bucana, it was everything that I imagined it to be. It had gangsters and smell of pot and smoke and all the illegal things I could see in exagerated mainstream films and although some would protest, in Independent films as well.
But I went their anyway like a Holden, in a phony blanket smiling at those wolves. I even went to the place where every killings and riots happen and I realized that this place wasn’t new to me. I had read this and saw this in every film that I saw and book that I read and every single step and motion and even in dance that I made.
It was just the same phony and exagerated and stereotype facade that we all have and had and will have because Bucana reminds me of reality and how sad life is without it!
after all, it is Buca na!
