Saturday, September 26, 2015


Lana del Rey's Honeymoon is like a lighter shade of Ultraviolence. Yes, the noir is still prevalent, but a tinge of color and hiphop is clearly shelling out as note upon note wriggles into the air. My current favorites include High by the Beach (the most Born to Die in the entire album), Freak (an ode to Ultraviolence's Florida Kilos; a love child maybe), Religion, Salvatore (very, very, depressed-girl-singing jazz; like a  1930's film) and The Blackest Night (this year's ultimate breakup ballad).

The Honeymoon era is relatively sweet compared to Ultaviolence's depression, and although the darkness is still there, you can sense a phoenix rising our of the previous album's ashes.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

On Suffering

I think that the most important life lesson anybody should learn is this: you do not need to suffer. And although to endure suffering is a very Christian mantra, and sometimes an admirable trait, one must have enough self love to identify conditions and circumstances that one can choose to not be tangled with.

You don't have to put up with that moody roommate. You don't need an emotionally abusive boyfriend. Or an inconsiderate job. Master the art of putting a fine line between what's tolerable and what's not. Love your life by the choices you make. The best ones are those that you can live with wholeheartedly - no negative energies; just pure, unadulterated happiness.

Monday, August 3, 2015

On Lonely Saturday Afternoons

I am rereading Haruki Murakami's Norwegian Wood and I realize that most of my Saturdays are very much like Toru Watanabe's Sundays. On Saturdays, I do the laundry in the morning and spend the rest of the afternoon in idle, infinite, solitude. I'd read a book, or listen to music - basically filling the void that life has left inside me.

Self-help articles have taught me that enjoying alone time is the best way to cure loneliness and emptiness, but how exactly do you do enjoy loneliness? Should you just stare at white, low ceilings after the day's work is done? Do you read literature or listen to music, when technically, these are not personal thoughts but other people's musings of their own alone time that are cleverly etched on paper or tunes?

How do you become alone with your own thoughts and not get scared that these will drown you and suck all the sunshine away on bright, sunny Saturday afternoons? In fact, what does it even mean to be alone in a universe that is a potpourri of atoms and imaginings?

I guess the old mantra that 'no one is alone' is truer than in seems.

Friday, July 10, 2015

Atticus, Amy and a Geisha

To Kill a Mockingbird was a spellbinding experience. It makes you realize that goodness is a tangible entity that lives and breathes-even in sleepy Southern towns- and that it can be found sometimes in the most unlikely places (or people, in this case). It speaks of morality and equality, the courage to get up and exercise it, and the circumstances involved with flowing against the current. To Kill a Mockingbird is one of those stories that will probably stay with me until I die.

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Reading Gone Girl was like riding a psychotic coaster ride. It starts with slow, staccatos and then takes you up and down with its many, many twists. To me though, Gone Girl isn't merely a story of a man who lost his psychotic wife, it is a platform that solidifies the basics in any relationship: Do you know who your partner is? And as the book mystifies: Are we still originals? Or are we merely collections of personalities that we scrapbook-ed from movies and books and songs and pop culture?

(Note: Write better diary entries because Amy Elliot Dunne does it better.)

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I regret not buying Memoirs of a Geisha when I had the chance to yesterday. The book is literally haunting me.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

A Prayer

Thank You Lord because Your grace and goodness is overflowing. Thank You Lord because You are with me in every endeavor that I jump into. Thank You Lord because You will open doors for me and bless me with a job that won't compromise the value system that you have instilled in me. Thank You Lord because You will keep me safe and secured. Thank You Lord because Your mercy endures forever. Thank you Lord because it is done.

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Should Have Been

When my dad died, I realized that the saddest part of my situation was that I've allowed myself to be hurt so much in the past that I've somehow forgotten what it's like to feel pain. I've become so numb and so used to the whirlpool of depression that I wasn't capable of mourning for my own father. I cried of course, but there was always this empty space inside me and it was longing for grief and desolation. It was frustrating because I couldn't give it.

I am ashamed of the petty love life issues that have mercilessly scythed me in the past. I am ashamed that I couldn't mourn. I am ashamed that I was apathetic. I am ashamed because I wasn't sad enough. And I  know I should have been very sad.

Friday, June 19, 2015

Matilda Molded Me

It was only after watching Matilda again when I realized how much the film has shaped my childhood. It was Matilda and her eternal love for literature that has fueled me to actually indulge in fiction (and maybe also made me hope that more than 10% of my brain will be unhinged to enable me to control things with my mind).

Fiction has truly influenced me and enabled me to filter myself into every character that I read, to fill somebody else's shoes, to empathize with his struggles and revel with his joys. Fiction actually made me a better person.  It allowed me to look beyond what people portray. I know what it's like to be a boy in Nazi Germany, an old man fishing for the greatest catch of his life or a passive-aggressive 30-year old who's looking for his wife.

I am simply and naturally in love with fiction. And I am certainly glad that my path, and Matilda's, crossed.

Sunday, June 14, 2015


June is moving like a snail and I am itching to have a job. This rainy month is making me drink too much caffeine and the Indian drums in my little heart have been pounding day in and day out.

I also think that I've been listening to too much Sam Smith because In The Lonely Hour literally feels like one giant moist chocolate cake. I can no longer distinguish one song from another like as if the melodies of every song have been seamlessly layered together into one decadent pastry piece. It's a beautiful mixture really - strangely haunting at times, bittersweet, but incredibly addictive.

Tuesday, June 9, 2015

My Soul is Tired

Recently, my plans to work in Cebu are hanging by a thread. Not because my Mom doesn't want me to, but because it somewhat feels wrong to live my life there. There's this dark cloud looming over the plan and no matter how hard I try to clear my head, the dark cloud just keeps shading on the idea.

For one, I'd miss out on a lot of family stuff if I do work in the Queen City. Secondly, my Mom's old and it somehow feels like running away from my responsibilities if I leave her on her own. She's completely okay with me working there though, and I have cousins who live practically next door, but still.. .Thirdly, working on Cebu feels like I'm chasing a futile love affair. And it feels frustrating because everything seems that way even if I know deep inside that things have changed, that I have changed, and that I've already grown comfortable with the idea of living by myself.

I'm tired of explaining. And convincing myself. And convincing others. It's exhausting. Thinking's exhausting. Everything's exhausting.  I'll just let this roll and get it over with. My soul is tired.