After almost three months of not posting here and hiding out somewhere in Multiply, I’ve finally decided to get out of my shell and post here again. WordPress is inevitable, there’s just a lot of things that I need to say here. Well, not exactly here–oh whatever. As you may have noticed, I changed everything. I don’t watch many movies right now because, I don’t know exactly. It’s not that I lost touch with films… Gee, I can’t really explain myself right now.

Somehow something changed inside me during the past three months of my WordPress absence. In order to fill you in, let me summarize it into six little words: “I fucked up with her again.” Please don’t take this in a literal way because the last time I checked, I’m still a virgin (hooray!–not).

During the last month, I met up with her again–Stef that is. Flirted a little bit with her and became a major cause of her and his boyfriend’s break-up. After that came my short stint with depression (which lasted for oh… three days?) and then some deep soul searching.

Which is where I am going to begin again. I think it’s time to reflect on who am I as a person and what the hell do I really want in a relationship. My self-destructive nature has to be controlled and I just need to vent out a little bit here. I know I did something bad and I hurt her again for the nth time. But I figured that if I don’t fix myself first, then I can never be with her. Ever.

In the first place, I never really wanted to be with her. She was just–psh–I have to admit, an idea. I liked the idea of being with someone, but I didn’t really liked her per se.

Somehow, the books that I’ve been reading, the music that I’ve been listening to, and the films that I’ve been seeing shaped this ideal girl that I had in mind. This quirky little Unicorn-loving litfreak who knows how painful Daniel Johnston’s songs are; someone who agrees that the film adaptation of Fight Club had the better ending; someone who would read me American Psycho while I sleep; and will agree that Pavement’s Spit on a Stranger would be the theme song of our long-winding love story. Somehow, I believe that that certain girl is somewhere out there waiting for me. I know that I’m stuffing cheese up your asses, but believe me… this is my idea of venting out–being a sick hopeless romantic fuck.

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As a sort of “Welcome, back!” gesture from me, here are the final words of Alvy Singer from Woody Allen’s Annie Hall which would somehow show the gist of the direction that this blog would now follow:

I thought of that old joke, y’know, the, this… this guy goes to a psychiatrist and says, “Doc, uh, my brother’s crazy; he thinks he’s a chicken.” And, uh, the doctor says, “Well, why don’t you turn him in?” The guy says, “I would, but I need the eggs.” Well, I guess that’s pretty much now how I feel about relationships; y’know, they’re totally irrational, and crazy, and absurd, and… but, uh, I guess we keep goin’ through it because, uh, most of us… need the eggs.

Goddamn, how I need those eggs.

Goddamn, it’s a long way to go, but I find no reason to stop. Talked to my parents and I’m real glad that they’re happy for me even though there will still be trials and shit. My dad even gave me money! Hooray! Maybe I’ll buy that cassette recorder that I’ve been meaning to get for weeks now.

I went to Ciciboy’s place yesterday and recorded a song for El Explorador–it’s awesome. Anyway, I have to go now–I’m gonna walk around and try to interview people what they think about the park that they’re building along Alabang. Furthermore, I’ll visit the Baranggay Hall. High Five!

First of all, let me congratulate myself for managing to finish my Plan of Study right before I went to my third class for the day. It was a great experience. I got a shitload of extra units finally credited–21 units to be exact. 21 + 48 (initial units credited when I shifted) + 12 = 81 units. Therefore, after four grueling years of studying (first half spent canoodling around college life, second half spent with a hint of flair and seriousness.)–I am now a Junior.

Exactly 4 semesters and one summer outing after this one, and hopefully, I’ll be able to graduate. Hello, Reality!

Everyone’s telling me that 2011 is still a long way to go, fuck that crap. 2011 is just a wink away. Though there will be a lot of shit to go through, I just know that I can do it. I can graduate. Damn skippy, I’ll graduate.

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I finished reading Douglas Coupland’s Girlfriend in a Coma yesterday, and it was really mind-bending. It’s amazing how Mr. Coupland transformed a song by The Smiths into a morality tale that’s both fairy tale-like and angry.

The ending really struck me, it had a great message for someone like me living in this generation. Its as if the book was talking directly to you and was ordering you to do these things.

By the last chapter of the novel, there were challanges imposed to the characters like–finding the truth, asking what we can do, what is fate, destiny and the future–things like that. I was in awe, really, by the end of the novel. T’was both sad and enlightening, especially since the characters really made an impact to me, the reader. Like, I was there with them and I, too should challenge myself to make my life less chaotic and be a bit organized (which is what I’m doing right now: Plan of Study, Change of Coursework, Timetables…), to impose questions and never stop until I got not the right–but the true answer. Truth, man. The truth might suck, but at least its true.

This was the first Douglas Coupland novel that I’ve read and I’m off to a good start, I think. I knew I should’ve bought that copy of Generation X back in Cubao X.

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I think compared to last week, I’m much happier and more serene. I like this feeling. It’s like you can do anything to anyone and not give a shit about it. I’m starting to like myself more and more everyday… I think.

Here’s how my weekend went:

Friday, went to the mall and hated everyone.

Saturday, went to Bangkal to buy some records; I got some awesome Post-Beatles stuff like McCartney’s Ram, Lennon’s Walls and Bridges, and Starr’s Ringo & Goodbye, Vienna. Then there’s The Mama’s & The Papa’s debut, If You Can Believe Your Eyes–here’s the kicker: it’s an authentic second pressing, made in the USA, and I got it for 50 pesos. Pretty good deal.

Makati is a big blur for me. There’s just too many people around, it’s suffocating. I checked out Booksale (I can’t help it, I have to buy books even though I have so many) and got a hardbound copy of James Frey’s My Friend Leonard (even though he’s a fake. 45 pesos) and Bob Flaherty’s Puff, an interesting novel set in the 70’s wherein two brothers disguised their van as a Red Cross vehicle in order to score weed. Very interesting, indeed.

Sunday, went to see Wall-E. Great movie (check out my short review on the previous post),  Pixar always does the trick for me. It cures my depression and self-loathing issues. Disney movies are always pure, gentle and kind. I seriously want to live inside one; you know? the staple happy ending. They’re the best.

Of course, I checked Booksale again. Lo and behold, it had James Gunn’s The Toy Collector! And for 15 pesos! Ever since I got into transgressive fiction (Chuck Palahniuk & Brett Easton Ellis–definitely my idols), I’ve been looking for this specific book.

Maybe it’s the nihilist/anarchist/social retard inside of me that makes me want to read transgressive novels. So far, I’ve been enjoying the sex, the violence, the black humor, and all the crimes in which these novels depict.

Other books found: George Carlin’s Napalm and Silly Putty (R.I.P., Mr. Carlin), 15 pesos; and the sceenplay to Casablanca, 50 pesos. Of course, when I saw the Casablanca screenplay lying alone and sad at National Bookstore, I instantly grabbed it. Come on! This is simply one of the best films ever! Plus, the book had essays discussing Casablanca from guys like Roger Ebert and Umberto Eco! I was flabbergasted that I had in my hands the screenplay to one of the most influential films I’ve ever seen. I know it’s gay, but really, Casablanca had a lasting effect on me. Ugh. I’ve said this a million times already…

Casablanca and Transgressive fiction? Opposite poles, I know. I’m such a weird person.

Anyway, afterwards, I went to Ciciboy’s place and watched a whole barrage of movies.

You Don’t Mess With The Zohan (which according to the subtitles is called, “You Do Not Put Up To The Zohan“), senseless comedic movie that delivers a lot of laughs. You know that right then and there, Adam Sandler and Judd Apatow wrote this while they were stoned. Of course, the movie is fucked but it did, however, deliver some wonderful insights to the whole Israel-Arab debacle and Post-9/11 America.

The Ice Storm, I’ve heard all about it, but sadly I haven’t seen it until last Sunday night. It’s amazing how Ang Lee, an Asian could make a movie about 1970’s classic American Suburbia on the verge of the Watergate Scandal and the sexual revolution. Oh wait, he was in the States in 1979 studying film. So that explains it. Anyway, The Ice Storm had a great cast. Sigourney Weaver was fantastic with her unintentionally funny moments. There’s also a post-Casper, Christina Ricci; pre-Spiderman, Tobey Maguire; pre-Frodo, Elijah Wood; and the pre-Scientology/Tom Cruise Katie Holmes.

Then there’s the hilarious Flirting with Disaster, which was directed by David O. Russel (a.k.a. Mr. Bitch Fit). It’s a fun movie. Tea Leoni was scorching, and I was really surprised with Josh Brolin’s role as a bisexual ATF agent. Yep, if you’re familiar with David O. Russel films, then the David O. Russel humor and style is definitely evident here. Well, of course it’s one of his earlier films.

Monday, walked around Alabang for a bit and looked for a topic for my straight news. Then it dawned on me, the mayor’s building this small ecological park in the middle of the overly polluted, Alabang. Perfect. Now, all I need is to contact the local government and set-up an interview.

Then I went home, sulked, read some comics, did my report for Devc 40, made a new song for El Explorador, read some chapters of Girlfriend in a Coma, talked to people at YM… Oh god I’m boring myself just typing all these things.

Whenever you’re losing faith in humanity, there’s always a Disney movie waiting to slap you senseless and bring life to your worthless existence. Disney-Pixar is, without a doubt, the best studio in the entire world. No, scratch that. Disney-Pixar is the best studio in the entire universe.

Ever since Toy Story came along 13 years ago, I never missed a single Pixar movie. I grew up with those movies and I just devoured every single one of them. Their latest effort, Wall-E, is I think their best film yet. Believe the critics when they say that Wall-E is “pure cinema,” because it really is.

It seamlessly blends spectacular cinematography with an awesome score that really brings out all the emotions in every scene. It’s actually a great risk for Pixar to release something with minimal dialogue, but they did it so well that you just wouldn’t complain even if you’re just hearing “Waaaall-eeee” and “Eeeeveeee” for the entire duration of the movie.

It’s an amazing love story, in fact I think it’s one of the best depictions of love in its purest form on cinema–high up there with films like Casablanca, City Lights, Brief Encounter, and heck, even Titanic (I don’t give a shit if the best romantic film you’ve ever seen is A Walk To Remember, but seriously, there’s more to life than Mandy Moore).

Besides the overwhelming visuals, the amazing scoring, Wall-E delivers a wonderful message within the story: Take care of our planet, bitches. I’m having a blast with how Hollywood is injecting these messages in their movies, how they’re making us all aware without boring us to death. It’s important man, that we need to do this. You know, take care of the environment and shit.

You can never really go wrong with Pixar, they’re great storytellers and it’s really a treat to watch a movie and feel like your mom’s flipping through a storybook, reading aloud every page. It feels comfortable, great, and oohhh… warm.

So, I totally recommend seeing Wall-E. It’s simply the best film I’ve seen this year (Sorry, Batman). It had the most humane robotic character ever, the best scene which utilizes a fire extinguisher, and kilig moments which knocks the shit out of John Lloyd and Sarah Geronimo. Skip that tasteless animated Star Wars crap next week (Jabba the Hutt’s gay uncle? What were you thinking Georgie?), Go see Wall-E instead. (Oh, and don’t forget to come early or you’ll miss the hilarious Pixar short film that comes before the main feature.)

I was at the mall the other day and there was this huge group of Korean kids waiting for their ride. There’s so many Koreans roaming around the country nowadays. They’re fucking everywhere: on television, at the mall, your English classmate, Sandara Park, etc. etc. etc. Now, I’m not objecting that you guys are slowly taking over my country…

But please, take your fucking trash with you. Or at least throw it in the trash bin so that the Filipino Janitors wouldn’t have such a hard time cleaning up. You’re in my country, go fucking respect us.

Oh, and don’t act like you own the place. Just because you have money and pearly white skin, it doesn’t mean that we’re inferior to you guys.

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Because I was in a shitty mood, I decided to walk around the mall, sulk, and observe people. There’s nothing like secretly hating everyone else.

First off, I counted how many douchebags are wearing those lame-ass, un-hip, and not to mention–stupid, Abu Sayaf scarves: 24. Then, I counted the emo kids gallivanting with their weird hair, black shirts, and Sharpie-d eyes: 43. (I wanted to kill them all.)

Apparently, there was this BMX event at the mall, and DeLara was playing–hence, more emo kids. I watched the BMX thing but walked away instantly after seeing that the BMX-ers were just a bunch of amateurs. The retards couldn’t even pull off a proper handlebar ride. Then again, this isn’t exactly ESPN.

But you know what I hate the most whenever I’m at the mall? Groups walking slowly together in a straight horizontal fashion thereby not allowing you to walk past them.

SERIOUSLY, why is there a need to form a chain when you’re just walking at the mall? This isn’t the fucking People Power Revolution. Can’t you just walk in two’s? I mean, let people pass by you. Ugh. I was so close to kicking these girls asses. Seriously.

I felt so good afterwards after having to hate so many people. I like doing this; walking alone like a fucking loser, thinking you’re so much better than everybody else. I live for this shit, man.

When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people,
you chuckle to yourself patting yourself on the back as you scoff
with the same superiority complex shared by the high school jocks
who made your life a living hell
And makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma
You spend every moment of your waking life bitching about.

I’ll admit, I’m such a bad person.

Cause I’m proud of my life and the things that I have done.
Proud of myself and the loner I’ve become.
You’re free to whine, it will not get you far
I do just fine, my car and my guitar.

Well let me tell you this, I am shamelessly self-involved.
I spend hours in front of the mirror, making my hair elegantly disheveled.

At times like this, I just wish that the entire world would just fuck itself. Seeing emo kids and those god-awful scarves makes me want to lose faith in humanity. Teen angst? Naah…