Month: September 2013
Dream Blog: From The Beach To A Double Date
Sorry for the reused photo…
So, two nights ago, the Sandman sent me to a place with a lot of sand…
I was on a white sand beach during a cloudy day. I didn’t feel like swimming, so I just sat on top of my SUV (I have an SUV?!), thinking about the usual things I think about in life. Then suddenly, Lin called me up, asking me what I was doing. I told her I was doing nothing, so we drove off. Next thing I know, the two of us were having a meal at a well-lit restaurant that has really white walls with Anj Moon and Kel (how did they know each other?!). Well, anyway, I was glad that I was with Lin eating really delicious food, that she’s breaking her diet and is eating rice and this unknown viand that is rich in coconut milk, and that Kel was with Anj because I’m sure she’s definitely his type, she’s much too young for him though (she’s 19, he’s around 25?), but who cares? They look good together, and Lin and I surely look good together as well.
Maybe we’ll be going to the beach soon? And with Lin, FINALLY! But why was I wasting what could’ve been a beautiful beach day with Lin by sitting it out when I love the beach so much (and Lin? LOL)? And maybe Kel’s gonna get a girlfriend soon, although I doubt it’d be Anj. Well, if it’s Anj, then that’d be good.
Dream Blog: Not-So-Poison Ivy On My Birthday
Okay, so it’s my birthday (more on that later) and the Sandman gave me an early present…
I was at home, doing my usual stuff, then suddenly the doorbell rang. Much to my surprise, it’s a morena girl with a very Filipina face, slim frame with sizeable breasts, and she was wearing a fuchsia top and white pants. Her name is Ivy.
We just stayed at home, but then we got bored, so we went out to play League of Legends in a computer shop. Apparently, there’s this new game mode, so we tried it out. After playing for a few hours, we headed back home. But before I could hit the doorbell so that my folks could open up, Ivy saw a fat old lady holding up an umbrella, walking side by side with a tall lanky man. She went up to the old lady and asked for directions on how she could get home. In hindsight, it’s quite funny to go somewhere without knowing your way back, right? Well, anyway, after asking the old lady, she told me she’ll be on her way back home. I was dumbfounded for a few seconds, then I regained my thought, chased after her, and asked her number so that we could see each other again. Then I woke up.
I wonder who Ivy is. And too bad I didn’t get her actual number.
Take Me To Elysium
I was very happy with how my first movie date with Lin turned out. However, one movie date would never suffice because I l wanted to watch another movie with her, I like watching her watch a movie, and I wanted to prove that the first one wasn’t a fluke, so I asked her out again. I wasn’t really expecting that she’d accept my invitation, but she did. Thus, what was just supposed another movie date turned out to be one of the happiest nights of my life…ever. For after Percy Jackson’s sequel comes another story paralleling once again to Greek mythology – Elysium, where demigods and heroes go to after death, pretty much just like an exclusive heaven. And I’m not sure if I almost got to Elysium, but I do know one thing – it exists, and I will get there someday.
It was a few minutes past six. I waited for her outside the Convergys G5 site where she works, and then there she was, in a Modoki Mokona hoodie, a black short skirt, and red flats. Pretty as always, and this time she didn’t wear any stockings so I could see the full radiance of her thighs and legs. We walked as we talked and vice versa, but this time I no longer look at every glass pane we pass by, because my eyes are fixed on this kawaii girl that looks like a doll. I swear, the people around us probably thought that I’m a dude in his twenties hitting on an adolescent. Not that I care anyway. In fact, I probably even like it that way, not that I’m sick bastard or anything, but isn’t that what every guy would like – a cute and youthful girl?
After we bought load for her phone, we went to the ticket booth for showtimes. I asked her out to watch Elysium, which I really wanted to watch, but I gave her a choice if in case she wanted to watch The Mortal Instruments instead. Thankfully, she heard crappy reviews for the latter, so it was unanimously decided – Elysium it is. Once we bought the tickets, we headed to Starbucks since we had an hour before the movie starts. I was asking her what she wants to have, but all she told me that it’s up to me, and I pleaded to her in the most charming way possible can’t decide on her behalf, so she held me from behind and whispered to my ears “Caramel…”, and I couldn’t help but feel tickled, her words are gentle fingers caressing the harp that is my ear. The pretty chinita barista smiled with all her braces at us as she took our order, and I knew that she looked at us as if we were either a couple of adults pretending to be teenagers pretending to be adults or an adult dude dating a cute teenager. Either way, she was obviously amused, but definitely not as much as I was. Not to her, although she too is a looker, but to Lin.
We talked about the things we usually talked about, except this time there came a point in our conversation where we’re talking about me – my work for Otaku Asia anime magazine to be exact. I showed her a copy of the magazine, told her about the articles I wrote and the events I covered, and she thought it’s pretty cool. Lin, who I think is cool and pretty, who many guys in the cosplay scene has a crush on, and who’s kind of a mini-celebrity in her own right, thinks I’m cool. She’s a star, I’m media, we both work for an outsourcing company…we do go well together.
Finally, the second best part of the night – the movie (click the link for my review of Elysium). Just like before, I was slumped on the side of the chair that was closer to her, and she on the side that is closer to me, so whenever we talk our faces got really close to each other. Both my left arm and legs were touching on her bare, soft, and warm right ones. Some scenes involved human bodies and parts exploding, and I’d catch her shocked expression as she’d cover her lips with my copy of the magazine. Shocked, not grossed out, thankfully. I was watching her watch the movie, and I’d notice her prominent features – her wide crescent blackish-greenĀ (contacts) chinita eyes, her long ebony hair that contrasts with her soft-looking fair skin, her long and fragile white neck that has a small mole, her pink lips, and her bare thighs. Then there’s the part where Matt Damon’s character was up against the main antagonist who’s wielding a katana, and there are cherry blossoms flying with the wind, making it look like a Japanese duel, so Lin’s eyes were glowing in fascination. Mine was as well, on both the scene and Lin’s eyes glowing in fascination. See, this is why men watch movies with women!
If I watched Elysium with my friends/family, I would:
- Be focused with the movie and only talk to my friends/brother whenever I have something clever/funny/deep to say or have an anime/manga/movie/game I’d reference to.
- Talk about the movie’s socio-political metaphors and relevance.
But since I’m with Lin, I:
- Had my attention split between watching the movie and watching her watch the movie.
- Nitpicked about silly things such as how Matt Damon’s character is still alive despite suffering from intense radioactive poisoning, an operation that didn’t involve sterile technique and antibiotics, and a stab wound on his side.
Just like Earth and Elysium, the differences are worlds apart.
After the movie, I took her back to her dorm. She lives in Bulacan, but she’s currently living in Boni because of work. As we walked together while we headed out the mall, she played as if she’s my personal tour guide, touching my shoulders and sending a pleasant jolt down my nerves every time. We took the train, and then passed by a night market where Take Me To Your Heart by Michael Learns to Rock happened to be playing before riding a jeep. I don’t know where exactly she took me, all I knew was that there were drunkards on every corner. A guy escorting home a girl he likes, protecting her from lecherous drunkards out on a dark narrow street – cliched yet romantic, right? Actually, in our case, it was a subversion, as she’s well-known in that area as Gwiyomi and San Cai (from Meteor Garden), and she’s actually the one who’s protecting me from getting beat up by drunkards with a bad mix of alcohol and man-ego. Well, either way works for me, as long as I’d get to see where she lives.
In all honesty, taking a girl who lives alone home will give any man “funny” ideas. I am no exception. In fact, I was wishing that she’d invite me to come in, come in to Elysium, and then we’d…OKAY, STOP! Of course, she didn’t invite me in, but that’s very much alright with me. Maybe someday she would. Well, at the very very least, which is a lot, when we were about to part ways, she told me to look straight and not to look anyone in the eye on my way out. I told her that she said it in a way as if she is a haunting spirit giving me a warning, so I took some of her obsidian locks and brought it to her front shoulders to make her look the way how I imagined her to be.
Next thing I knew, her hands were on my shoulders, her forehead was against mine, and all I could look at was her eyes, her button nose, and her soft pink that I wanted to kiss at the exact moment she repeated her instructions. She told me once again to look straight and not look at anyone in the eyes, she said, but it took me less than a second to not heed her warning, for I was looking at someone’s eyes – her blackish green ones, and then my gaze went lower to her lips. Time went slow enough to make those few seconds like hours, everything around her started to blur, and I wanted to move my face closer to hers until my lips would touch hers. But I did not, as much as I want to, as much as I thought that it was the perfect time to do so.
I just gently laughed at what she did, and then she hugged me as she thanked me. Tight. Perhaps the tightest hug she ever gave me, much so that I could feel her full softness and warmth and smell her fragrance. Her arms were clasped on my back, and mine the same. Then I thanked her and went my way. I looked straight and did not look anyone in the eye. How could I, after looking at hers so deeply that I almost lost myself in them? And after that I was deep in thought, thinking about what I thought would’ve been a perfect chance for a kiss (still thinking about it, actually). I definitely did the right thing, but what if I could’ve done something better? What if my scrapped kiss could’ve led to Elysium? I guess I’ll never know. Maybe I’ll get that kiss someday. Maybe I’ll get to Elysium in a not-so-far-off future, but not now…
Elysium (Movie Review)
In the year 2154, Earth becomes polluted and overpopulated, so the privileged, rich, and influential have moved to Elysium, a space colony that features luxurious living and state-of-the-art healthcare. Those living on Earth, on the other hand, suffer barely liveable conditions, with most of them working on industries that maintain Elysium. Among one of them is Max Da Costa (Matt Damon), a factory worker who suffers from radiation poisoning and is only given five days to live. His only hope is to get to Elysium, and his only chance of getting there will involve a deadly mission that will not only put his life at risk but also the balance of how things are on Earth and in Elysium.
Acting: Matt Damon was superb as a conformist 9-to-5 employee turned exosuit-donning rogue warrior. Jodie Foster was also commendable as a ruthless defense secretary hellbent on keeping people from Earth out of Elysium with whatever means necessary. But of course, Sharlto Copley was easily the best. From being District 9’s hero to Elysium’s crazy and violent henchman, this guy’s got real talent.
Pacing: The movie’s good build-up was able to make me care for Max and his outlaw cohorts who thrive in illegal activities. The introduction of the setting, from its tech to its social strata, was simplistic and comprehensible, not to mention the fact that what they symbolize is crystal clear. The action is always cool and exciting, which is kind of expected given the movie’s genre, and the more peaceful dialogue-laden plot-advancing parts in the middle were short yet were very much able to do their job right, although more work could’ve been done to make me care more about characters that isn’t Max or any of his friends.
Cinematography: Droids, exosuits, supersonic shuttles that make space travel seem like a short drive to work, a beautiful space colony that looks like one big five-star suburban village, a filthy dystopian Earth that doesn’t seem to have technologically advanced much after 141 years from now, artsy and emotional flashbacks from Max’s point of view – the movie is visually creative entertaining, and intelligent on artistic, socio-political, and emotional levels.
Overall – 8.5/10: Featuring cool futuristic tech that aren’t far too removed from today’s designs, badass fights scenes and people, heavy socio-political metaphors that are ever-relevant, and characters the audience can relate to, Elysium has something for everybody. And by everybody, I mean people who can already understand the truth about how literally worlds apart the lifestyles of the wealthy and affluent are from the poor and wants such truth to be presented as a dystopian space-age science-fiction and action hybrid.
End Of An Illusion Part 1: I Was Up All Night Looking For Threads In Vain
The thing about illusions is that no matter how real they seem, they will never seem real anymore once you realize that they’re just illusions. It’s just like the night – the many things it hold as mysterious, frightful, and beautiful loses its power to inspire fear, enthrallment, and awe when the morning light comes. And even if night falls once again, you’ll never see them again under that cover of darkness in the same light that gives them an enigmatic air, but in a blinding one that reveals their true forms. Such is my case, for the illusions I was under has finally been dispelled, and the night that I have both marveled, feared, and reveled in has finally turned to day. I have realized that the things I once beheld with wonder are mundane, barely even worthy of being mentioned here in my blog. And the giver of these seemingly precious trinkets that turned out to be worthless nuggets, who happens to be one of my muses and inspirations, has been undone. Her illusions no longer have power over me, for the night is no more – she is no more. The beautiful Karmela, although was, is, and always will be beautiful, is no more.
The end began a few minutes before midnight, when I saw her online. It was just the usual exchange, which led to her telling me to go sleep. I told her that I am a vampire, and she told me that I’m trying to be Edward Cullen. Ugh, Twilight. Alright, I admit, unlike other people, I don’t really hate Twilight with a passion since I bought the books and watched the movies. Sure, it’s neither deep nor a fresh take on the gothic romance genre, but it’s not that bad either. However, in the cool vampire spectrum, Edward Cullen is pretty damn low, so I told her that I prefer Lestat de Lioncourt from Interview with A Vampire. Y’know, the one that Tom Cruise played as, ‘cuz Tom Cruise is cool in my book (Top Gun, Days of Thunder, Mission Impossible series, Vanilla Sky). Anyway, much to my disappointment, she doesn’t know who he is. Then again, it’s quite expected for movies from the 90’s and Anne Rice’s novels to be obscure for most young people (even though Interview With A Vampire shouldn’t be because it has BOTH Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise. How cool is that? Not to mention that women are suckers for the two), so I just apologized to her for my strange taste in movies.
Since we were already talking about a movie, I took the conversation to a broader scope of things and asked her what kind of movies she likes, but all she told me was that she doesn’t have any particular taste in movies, aside from the fact that she prefers music over movies. While I was disappointed once again that she isn’t much of a cinephile as I am, it was another chance for me to find a common thread, so I asked her if she preferred a particular genre. To my delight, she likes alternative rock. Seeing this as a way to show off, I gave names of certain bands – All-Time Low, Cartel, Mayday Parade, and We the Kings to be exact. She knows All-Time Low and We The Kings, but not the other two – close enough, I guess. I told her to give Mayday Parade a chance since it’s easily my favorite among the examples I gave, but all she told me was that she that she likes Paramore best. Ugh, Paramore, how…mainstream. Not that I don’t like bands that have achieved mainstream success or anything, but Paramore pretty much sold out, especially if you’ve heard their latest sound (Still Into You sounds like generic pop). And since I’m not exactly Paramore’s biggest fan, I tried to budge her out of talking about them by asking if she knows Hey Monday, My Chemical Romance, The Used, Taking Back Sunday, and Dashboard Confessional, but apparently she doesn’t know The Used and Taking Back Sunday. Seriously, how can you say you like alternative rock and not know those two? Anyway, she told me how Paramore inspired her to learn how to play the guitar, so I joked about her having talent in music, something I’m not gifted with. She told me that I should try learning an instrument or two, but I told her that I prefer playing video games, reading novels and manga, and watching movies and anime – you know, usual geeky stuff. Then she asked me what kind of future do i have with such things.
I never really knew if that was meant to be a harmless rhetorical question that kept the conversation flowing or a not-so-obvious mockery. That night it felt like the former, but upon hindsight it was probably the latter, although I don’t really want to think so. She’s probably shallow and egotistical, but I doubt she has any intention of hurting others. Well, whatever she wanted to arrive in, I told her these exact same words as the rationale for my passions: “I do not seek the future of this world or this life, for I seek the past, the present, alternate realities, and the never-ending what-could-have beens in between.”Ā I don’t know about you, but I thought that what I said was pretty cool, something that would probably impress a girl because of either the badass devil-may-care attitude my statement attempts to make me seem like or its rather intricate and deep way such words were brought together – but no, all she could come up with in response was “Google Translate!”
She did not understand what I said, so I had to explain it to her, and explanations always take away the beauty of idioms. She said something along the lines of “yeah, like I said” even though it was obviously not the case, so I just played along, telling her that maybe she too is poetic, but she refuted that, telling me that Google should always be at her side whenever I talk to her. In hopes that she would see that I’m actually pretty cool in a not-so-orthodox manner, I told her that it’d be cool to talk to me since it’d give her a challenge and enhance her vocabulary, going as far as telling her that maybe one of these days she might end up like Jeffrey Eugenides or Haruki Murakami. Then, she asks me who they are. With that question, one thing became apparent – she doesn’t read much novels either. So much for finding a common thread. I didn’t even bother asking if she likes anime or manga, considering that it’s a very obscure hobby with a very limited target demographic. I mean, she doesn’t like the more commonly liked hobbies in the first place, how much more the relatively unknown ones. And even though I never talk about sports, I even asked her if she likes anything related to it. She said no, only music, and as much as I don’t really like sports, I’m not exactly pleased with her answer. She’s not exactly passionate about movies, books, and sports. What does she like then? What makes Karmela Andrea Karmela Andrea? Of course, people are more than just their hobbies, but she’s got to be passionate about something that totally defines her.
I KNOW! Hanging out and going places, everybody loves that. Well, in Karmela’s case, not exactly, even telling me that she’s got no idea where to go and no one to tag along with her. Saddened with her response, I gave her ideas – the arcade, the bowling alley, billiards, and ice skating. Ugh, mall hobbies. Well, except for my last two suggestions, which are hiking and beach. And you guys know how much I love the beach. The sand on your back, the waves on your feet, the starry skies at night – I shared to her these magical things about the place I love the most, but she didn’t seem to appreciate it, and all she could muster was teasing me at how I’m already imagining things. But I was not, for I was reminiscing – friends, swimming, eating, storytelling, drinking. She doesn’t drink either. Damn, she’s too…plain. In response, I told her that she’s a good girl. And sure, good girls are nice, but not plain girls, and there is a world of difference between being good and being boring old plain. But who am I kidding? She could’ve been as plain as paper, as long as she’s a beautiful chinita who’s nice to me. I don’t know, maybe I’m just superficial, or maybe she’s got that certain something-something that other girls don’t. Either way, despite the fact that I have miserably failed to find any common threads with her, we talked for two hours in the dead of night. That has to count for something, right?
Well, whatever that something is, it’s not my chance to get her, for the night never really went deeper. And next thing I know, it was already morning…(To be continued…)
End Of An Illusion Part 2: When Stolen Waters Are No Longer Sweet
I did not find any common thread with Karmela that I can hang to, and yet I was perfectly suspended in midair. I was floating, flying even, and reached high heaven when I realized that we had already talked for two hours, straight, without any distractions such as games or manga on my part. Like I’ve said before, talking with a girl for two hours has to count for something, right? Well, given the fact that women are highly unpredictable creations of beauty, “not always” would’ve been the safest answer. Just because she’s responding doesn’t mean she’s interested, she could’ve been simply just nice and polite. But the spell of infatuation, one of the many things that is just like the magic of love yet is inferior to it, while not exactly blind, is totally delusional and illusory. It gives the most vivid of colors to things that are actually flat, dull, and gray. I am uncertain whether she cast it on me or I cast it on myself and she only served as a catalyst. Either way, whoever did no longer matters, because what does is that the spell has finally been broken.
I told Jamaica about how Karmela didn’t understand the things I was saying and wasn’t interested with the things I am passionate about the very same night I talked to Karmela. Expectedly, since Jamaica’s one of those people who don’t like the fact that I’m wooing someone in a relationship as well as a girl like Karmela (some of my friends at work think she’s a flirt), she just told me that it’s because we’re not meant to be and that I should leave her be. But how could I, after we have spent two hours talking. Sure, it was technically about nothing, but like what I’ve said, two hours has to mean something. Well, it did mean something, except that it’s not what I thought it would be.
In hopes of proving that my delusions are not delusions at all, I showed my friends from work our conversation. Of course, I was proud that I was able to drag our talk on for such a long time, that I was unable to convince her to give up on sleep for a little long while and sit for a spell with me. But just like the thousands of times when I thought I was finally right, I thought wrong. Our night that I thought we were drunk on each other was just a floor littered with broken glass where I was left bleeding, for her responses were not open-ended, and not even once in our conversation, aside from my work schedule, did she ask me anything about myself, throw any of my questions back, or try to steer the conversation somewhere, even somewhere she wanted. It was all just me. I kept the flow going while she left herself be carried off. Why? Because to her I was a waste of time and effort, but a perfect source of an ego boost. She kept the flow towards her because it is what sustained her pride and refused to make it go my way because she took no interest in me. I, on the other hand, thought that she wanted my attention because she wanted me, only to realize that she only wanted my attention and my attention alone. She is a shallow, self-centered woman who gets her gratification from the attention of men, and I was only able to see it through the eyes of others. Pathetic.
After I found out what I am to her, I decided to deny her of what she wanted from me – my attention, but to no avail, for I would still greet her whenever we would meet, even when I was with Sue (another office “crush”, I’ll elaborate later). I told myself that I would no longer look at her, but my eyes would always act like planets gravitating towards the radiant sun that is her. Then again, maybe I’m just being too melodramatic. Maybe she likes me too. I mean, my coworkers would tell me that whenever they eat at the cafeteria without me, they would always find Karmela’s eyes on them, probably wondering why I was missing. But is it not only right for a thirsty fawn to look for water? After all, that’s what I am to her – a reservoir for her always-thirsting ego. But no more. Sure, I’d still probably look at herb beauty even though I’d try not to, I’d still probably say hi to her as a sort of friendly gesture, but I will attempt to get her no more. I will feed her ego no more. Oh how I hope that I could stick firmly with my resolve…
In the end, Karmela was nothing but a false fountain of life. I was drawn to her not because of her waters, but because she is a beautiful fountain. And because of such beauty, I drank her and thought she was refreshing and pure, much so that she made me thirst for more and wonder how deep she went. But she left me disenchanted, for she was in truth defiled and shallow. She, on the other hand, let me have a drink, not because she wanted to give me life, but because she wanted the pride of having me drink from her. She thought that her beauty was enough to keep me drinking her waters. Thankfully, with the help of the people around me, I was able to discern the slightest trace of poison in it, so I retched everything I have taken in from her and vowed to never drink from her ever again.
And so, the illusion of something has become nothing, and what never really started is now over. Farewell, Karmela. Farewell to your beautiful face, because that is the only thing you can charm me with.
Mister Stranger’s Romance With My Past Crush
Upon opening my WordPress after quite some time, I am surprised to see someone commenting on my old post Yearbook. Of all the things this stranger could comment about, it had to be Camille – the pretty and fair chinita who took me under her umbrella one rainy night in Lawton when I was a college freshman. He commented about how he used to have a “water cooler romance” with her, how they were good friends up until he was in third year of college, and how his heart got broken when he found out she already got a boyfriend. I couldn’t help but feel his pain, and deep in my heart I knew that I just had to write about this before I could write about anything else again.
I don’t really know what happened between them. However, I know for a fact that he saw her as this pretty, funny, witty, sweet, and kind girl. I know, because that’s how I saw her. Sure, I only saw her a couple of times, but that’s how a girl like Camille comes across to me. I mean, I did have a crush on her, after all. What I don’t know are the things that went down near the water cooler – the way she looked (although I could picture her wearing that SoF uniform, and I bet she looks pretty in it), the way they looked at each other, the things they talked about, and the things they felt for each other. They were probably laughing at some silly jokes, and Mister Stranger here, who was in high school at that time, probably looked at her as she laughed, in slow motion, in a background painted with that pale yellow sunlight that was blurring all around her. They probably texted. They probably signed each other’s yearbook. They probably remained in contact on Facebook three years after. But whether he confessed what he felt for her or not, I do not know…
Just like the rain when Camille and I met, he probably poured his heart out. But he probably got rejected. Or maybe he was too late. Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe, just like his identity when he commented on my post, kept it as a secret. Maybe he was afraid that a wonderful girl like Camille would turn away. Well, whether he did or didn’t, and whatever reason he had if he didn’t, it must’ve been really broken him up deep inside to know that Camille already has (or had, I don’t know if they’re still together) a boyfriend. Well, I wasn’t really crushed or anything when I found out since I didn’t have the concept of “courting” during my early college years (I first courted someone a year after college, and got rejected), although I thought it was quite a waste for a girl like her to be taken. But if I really did fall for her as much as our Mister Stranger here, I would’ve been inconsolable for days, just like I was with Amparo, Christina, and Jamee. If I did, I would’ve confessed, whether I was too late or otherwise.
I never really thought I’d write about Camille again way way after college, after our fateful meeting in Lawton, after our next fateful meeting at the library, and after my trips back to the library as an excuse to read Naruto online and pester her even though she already got a boyfriend. I also never really thought I’d meet someone from her past, a boy who fell in love with a loveable girl like her. Come to think of it, I wonder how Camille’s doing now? Does she still have a boyfriend? If not, then…nah, if she has no boyfriend right now, then it’s your chance, Mister Stranger. Or maybe you’re the “friend” she’s been “catching up with?” Well, if not, then you better step up your game. Who, knows, we might even be rivals? š
Just kidding. I have another chinita I’m eyeing right now. And that’s not yet even half the story. Ugh, I really do have lots of catching up.
Getting Up After Being Down With The Sickness
If you’d actually notice, the last post in my blog was September 6, and it’s already September 22. Sixteen days, and no updates whatsoever, although I do have tons of backlog, to be fair. Well, I honestly meant to update this blog, it’s just that aside from my eight hour job and my job at the magazine, something came up. And when it did, I got down…with the sickness, and I couldn’t get up. Well, that’s what happens when you go to work at 2PM, leave at 10PM, stay up til 4PM, and then wake up at 10.
It all began last Monday during work. Out of the blue, I started feeling hot, which was strange since I was feeling fine and dandy in the morning. I thought it was just because the air conditioner was at full blast and I refused to wear my jacket. I put it on, but it didn’t help me in any way whatsoever, so I knew that I was going to go down with a fever. In vain attempts to prevent my inevitable demise caused by my own devices, I drank pineapple juice, orange juice, two 500mg tablets of vitamin C, and a tablet of paracetamol. Later that night, my sleep was shallow to nonexistent, as I was burning up and gasping for air. Next thing I knew, it was morning, and it was official – I was down with the flu and overdosing myself with vitamin C didn’t help.
The next day I was so weak I could barely eat, much so that it felt as if eating one slice of bread took all my strength. Heck, I even had to dip it in coffee so that I wouldn’t have to chew it much, although I had rice later on that same day. And aside from nutrition, entertainment is also one of the many things needed by a person who’s assuming the sick role, so I asked father to put a small TV set on my bed, and I also borrowed my sister’s laptop since I needed to know what’s going to happen next on Air Gear. And damn, when you’re sick, it takes double effort to take in the drawing and scene in, read the dialogue, and turn the page, even if it’s just a manga site. And since reading manga was too hard for me, I just watched anime. I was supposed to watch Danganronpa, but then I realized that I still have unfinished business. I guess this is how adults are when they’re sick – instead of just resting so that they can get well soon, they still need to do their work. Reminds me of a Bakuman chapter when manga artist Mashiro got hospitalized and was still drawing manga with the help of his girlfriend Azuki. Except that I wasn’t a manga artist and I didn’t have a girlfriend.
I was far from done with my assigned articles for the October issue of the magazine, and I was actually overdue with one of them, so instead of watching the anime I wanted to watch, I watched what my editor asked me to – Diabolik Lovers and Yamishibai. After I’m done with them both, I worked on the articles on my desktop since my sister took her laptop back and didn’t lend it to me again ‘cuz she thought she might get what I had. I worked on it while I’m still feverish, weak, and nauseous whenever I sit up. If reading manga while sick takes twice the effort, writing takes four times since it’s an activity that produces something instead of taking something in. Still, I feared my editor’s wrath much more than my condition getting worse, so I worked on it anyway.
If there’s something good about being sick, it’s watching movies all day. In the span of my sickness, I got to watch Chronicle, Priest, We Are The Night, Kung Fu Hustle, and one my newest favorite movies – Moonrise Kingdom, don’t ask why. But of course, the internet is my maintenance drug, so I went online anyway even though it makes me dizzy. Well, through constant exposure, I got re-used to it, as well as with eating rice. Come Thursday, my fever was gone and I no longer get nauseous whenever I sit, stand, or walk, although I was still feeling weak, so I didn’t go back to work just yet. Yeah, I wasn’t strong enough to work, but I was strong enough to slay the Sea Dragon with an 8-man team on Dragon Nest. Sure, my day job is actually easier than playing Dragon Nest, but it isn’t half as fun, and hard fun things takes less effort to do than easy no-fun ones.
And on Friday, I was finally freed from my sickness as well as my obligations with the magazine, as I have submitted my last article which for the October issue which is my coverage of Best of Anime. I also returned to work, where I was warmly welcomed back by my coworkers that I dearly missed. Although I still wasn’t as strong as I used to be and I still have cough, colds, and shortness of breath until now, I still got the job done, but I had to go overtime until 12AM (end of shift is 10PM) because of three days’ worth of backlog.
Well, anyway, all’s well that ends well, especially me. However, this isn’t the end, but a kickstart back up. So ladies and gentlemen, I am back and feeling much better than last Monday. I’m still not feeling as good as before, but we’ll get there. As for my writing, I wouldn’t say it’s better than before, but just like my condition, we’ll get there. š
The Deep Beauty Of The Flower Child: My Katawa Shoujo Experience
“So one of these days, I won’t be afraid of staying with you.
I hope and I pray, waiting to find a way back to you, ’cause that’s where I’m home…”
-Michelle Branch, One of These Days
DISCLAIMER: I am not an expert on this topic. I am just relying on what I know, personal opinion, and what I find on the internet. Feel free to correct me.
Obviously, otakus love anime, manga, J-music, idols (singing or gravure), AV models, Japanese movies and dramas, Japanese food, cosplay – whatever that’s related to Japanese culture. But perhaps the most obscure among the things otakus like is the visual novel. Once an otaku likes a visual novel, you know that that particular otaku will never revert back to being a non-otaku, and that’s a good thing. What’s a visual novel, you non-otakus ask? Well, it’s a flash game in which there are illustrations and text at the bottom (thus the term visual novel), and in some points of the game you are given a choice on what you should do next, which would affect the game’s storyline and ending. Visual novels have many genres, but perhaps the most common and most favorite among them all either romance or eroge, both of the two usually but not always interwoven.
While I rarely touch visual novels, I cannot help but love how visual novels allow you to choose which girl you’d end up with and how it would end, unlike in a harem manga/anime in which the winning girl and the ending is entirely up to the author, which is in some cases…disappointing. or even worse – painful (trust me, *cough*Ichigo 100%*cough*). However, even though you are given choices in visual novels, you won’t know how your choices would affect the game’s storyline and ending, kind of like life, except that life is a much more difficult visual novel with too many girls to choose from, too many branching choices that have varying impact to the storyline, and no online flowchart that leads you to the good route. Well, anyway, after quite some time since I finished my last (non-eroge) visual novel that is Brass Resolution, I decided to pick up another one called Katawa Shoujo.
I only discovered it by accident, thanks to people mentioning it all across the internet whenever there’s a picture of a cute girl with a disability. I ran a Google search, found the official website, and discovered that it’s a romance visual novel set in Yamaku Academy, a high school for differently-abled individuals, meaning all the girls you choose from has a disability. Of course, it’s not a pretty premise, but nonetheless a good one that reeks of dramu from the get-go, so I downloaded it and played it immediately.
Having read about the heroines, I initially wanted Shizune because she’s a deaf-mute meganekko, which makes her totally moe. However, upon playing on further, I no longer wanted to end up with her because she and her friend Misha are pushing me around, so I thought of looking for another girl. Blind beauty Lilly and above-knee amputee Emi aren’t half-bad, but someone else stole my heart without even trying – the shy and beautiful bookworm that is Hanako. Sweet, fragrant Hanako.
I met her on the library, alone and aloof, reading Life of Pi by Yann Martel. Damn, I hate that novel (well, I actually liked it, except for the end part on how everything was botched) although I loved the movie adaptation. But anyway, she was there, shying away from me with an uneasy grimace on her face. And me, being a sucker for the shy type (Aya Toujo, Kirisaki Onodera, Haruna Sairenji…damn, I’m so predictable) who usually likes novels (Aya Toujo, I cannot escape you), wholeheartedly without any second thoughts whatsoever decided to pursue her. While listening to One of These Days by Michelle Branch, which made the whole experience a lot more melodramatic.
Perhaps the problem with visual novels is that sometimes the choices would lead to something or someone you don’t exactly like, and I was afraid that it what might happen because didn’t know what I was exactly doing in Act One. Thankfully, through a little bit of common sense and a lot of Fate’s intervention, I landed on the start of Hanako’s route at the beginning of Act Two, complete with a sweet and artsy cutscene with a warmhearted feel.
Although mostly along with Lilly, Hanako and I had tea, read novels, played chess (feel that Fernan!) and eight-ball. Sure, she’s shy, and it’s understandable at that because of the burns all over her body, but she did open up at one point and told me where she got her scars.
Apparently, when she was little, their house got burned down and her parents died. If it wasn’t for her mother who shielded her in the fire, she would’ve died as well. However, despite her mother’s selfless sacrifice, almost half of her body still got burned, so she spent months and months at the hospital. After that, she was sent to the orphanage, and later on went to Yamaku. So tragic, so much feels…
Handling a delicate little bud like Hanako is extremely difficult, but she’s trying in her own little way to blossom and become the beautiful flower that she truly is. Problem is that Misha and Shizune are two nosy bitches who pry on other people’s business, and thanks to them Hanako gets an anxiety attack, just when she’s trying to come out of her shell. Lilly and I go to her room to see if she’s okay, and there she was, crying herself to sleep. We reassure her that everything’s okay, so she rises back up, and her expression changes from the shaken to the shy yet smiling Hanako we have come to know.
Hanako blames her existence for the death of her parents, so she gets anxious whenever her birthday approaches. Thankfully, when we had a surprise mini-celebration for her complete with gifts (mine was an antique chessboard), I was relieved that it turned out so successful because she was so happy. And when we went out to town to play eight-ball, she shared about her sad life at the orphanage and at middle school, telling me how nobody wanted to be friends with her and how she was never up for adoption, thus her enrollment to Yamako. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her, and I couldn’t help but be pissed at the people who broke her. Nonetheless, I was happy that she is happy and is getting stronger every day. So when she had another anxiety attack, I gave her time and space, as well as faith that she can do it alone. And as expected, Hanako emerged stronger than ever, and I couldn’t help but feel relieved and happy when she came back to class.
When Lilly leaves for the country, Hanako and I spent more time together. Just like before, we had tea, went out to the city, but this time she showed me her scars – scars that caused her to be broken and hurt not only physically but also deep-down. But even though her scars are horribly ugly, she is still a very beautiful person inside-out. Next thing I knew, we’ve done it.
But after that, expectedly, things got awkward. She wasn’t talking to me and she would avoid me every time I do, so I decided to man up (Jamaica, I’m not like your gay guy) and texted her. We met at the park, then we told each other everything. I admitted to her that Lilly and I really do see her as someone we need to protect, but we don’t do it because we see her as an inferior, but because she is our equal – our friend. She, on the other hand, apologized if she thought she saw herself so lowly and only offered herself as a compensation for the things I’ve done for her, and then she cried. She was on the ground, weeping, so I held her and told her I don’t see her that way, for I see her as a friend – no, more than that, because I love her, and I am so proud of her because she has done so much progress in such a small amount of time.
I told her that together we will bring down the walls brought about by our infirmities and their implications. I told her that that we can change for the better, especially her, because I love her. After our heartfelt exchange, we wipe our eyes, we smile, and we head to the city to grab something to eat. But before we do, my beautiful blossom Hanako gives me a gift – true love’s kiss.
OH MY GOD THE FEELS! Seriously, I wish I’d get to find a Hanako in real life – a wide reader, sweet, shy, cheerful, genuine, smart, strong, and does her best everyday to become better despite the tragedies and pain she encounters every day. Even if she’s scarred or ain’t that pretty, I won’t mind, because her heart is pristinely beautiful.
Okay, thank you for reading my self-interpreted spoiler for Hanako’s story of Katawa Shoujo. It’s been quite some time since I felt like this. Heck, I even cried. Damn, that was some feels trip. Well, what are you waiting for? If you haven’t played Katawa Shoujo, go play it now, go on a feels trip like me, and we’ll talk about it like crybabies.
Next on the list – Swan Song. I am beyond help and am now hooked on visual novels.
P.S. – I don’t wanna complete the game 100% because Hanako is waifu material.
Is Age Just A Number?: Not Legal Yet Mature [NSFW]
Hitting on minors is not only is it ethically and morally wrong, it is also a criminal offense. But just like what I said before, I’d screw the consequences even if the consequences would screw me. And this time, I’d screw them for a girl who I shouldn’t screw around with.
It is undeniable that the wig is horrible – obviously fake and hardly resembles real hair. However, only cosplay elitists give a rat’s ass about such details, because this Misa Amane is freaking cute, much so that I couldn’t help but smile and squeak with delight whenever I see this photo of her. Then accidentally, I found her on Facebook. Her name is Nicolette. I won’t tell you guys her last name, you might search for her. Perverts.
With a face like that, I knew she’s not legal. Then again, nothing is what it seems in the cosplay scene. I’ve met people in late twenties who look like minors, pretty girls who look like pretty boys, and vice versa. But like I’ve said, legal or otherwise, I added her on Facebook. I told myself that I’d hit on her if she’s legal, and will not if she ain’t. I added her, she accepted, I messaged her as gratitude for accepting my requests. Next thing I knew, we were having a pretty long conversation since she’s a pretty (and) interesting, which led to the critical question that is her age.
Seventeen. A year shy of the age of majority, of consent. Close, but no cigar, although a chance to go to jail was thrown into the deal as some sort of consolation prize. Yeah, well, whatever, who gets incarcerated for harmless sweet talk with a minor anyway? Then suddenly, the conversation went somewhere I never in eons expected our conversation or any other conversation I have with teenage girls ever to go to – she asked me if I read Nozoki Ana. NOZOKI ANA, holy goddess of goodness. Of all the possible manga titles she can ask me about, it had to be a mature seinen manga that involves A LOT OF SEX. How old is she? SEVENTEEN! And she’s reading manga that isn’t aimed for seventeen-year olds, especially not with seventeen-year old girls. When I was seventeen, I was playing video games, watching CLEAN NON-SEXUALLY FOCUSED anime (spare the occasional hentai with the neighbor), and reading my lessons. Heck, I wasn’t even hitting on anyone at that time. But this sweet, innocent-seeming girl, reading manga that is WAY advanced for her age…damn, it’s either I’m too much of a conservative or this is already how teenage girls are now. Not that I don’t like her suggestions. In fact, I like them very much.
Aside from Nozoki Ana, she suggested to me Uwakoi. What’s it about? It’s about a guy two-timing between his step-sister and his classmate. How mature can the manga get? Along the lines of this, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg:
Unbelievable.
Damn it, I remember having a crush on a Misa Amane last year, and the same damn thing’s pretty much come up once again. Only this time it’s much more dangerous…and I’m willing to ignore that danger for this girl. I mean, she’s so much fun, not to mention that she’s got good taste in manga.
Whatever James, go be decent and go back to either chasing Lin or going round in circles with Karmela.
Or maybe I should just wait another year. Sounds good.
P.S.: She asked me if I’ve already read Koibana Onsen, Desire Climax, and Teacher’s Pet. Go figure.
I put the I in the UNIVERSE. I hope I can put U too. 