chili watches

as we were.

“I’ve always tried to make a home for myself, but I have not felt at home in myself. I’ve worked hard at being the hero of my own life. But every time I checked the register of displaced persons, I was still on it. I didn’t know how to belong. Longing? Yes. Belonging? No.”

— Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

God, I’m so awful at this friendship thing. I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore. Nowadays I just feel like surprise news flashes– breaking news! girl tries to initiates contact with l’etranger, he shoots her instead!— all too sudden and quick to leave so I can avoid opinion, like a permanent shoot-first-think-later gig, so afraid to hear what you think about me. A graveyard out of a bone white afternoon. And it’s always the fucking corpse staring up at me. Waiting for something interesting. Too bad, honey. You’re fucking dead.

Here are a few things that have given me solace from myself:

  1. It’s Okay, That’s Love. 2014 Korean drama. 10/10, totally fresh. I suggest you educate yourself and try to feel something relevant again. I’ll reserve this for a later post.
  2. Only Lovers Left Alive. 2014 Jim Jarmusch. Utterly mesmerizing vampire movie. Hiddles The Bæ and Mother Swinton amidst a background of incredible, beautiful music.
  3. Food porn. To be perfectly honest.

As you were.

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the girl who wanted to be God

Planet Terror-31

“I am afraid of getting older. I am afraid of getting married. Spare me from cooking three meals a day—spare me from the relentless cage of routine and rote. I want to be free. (…) I want, I think, to be omniscient… I think I would like to call myself “The girl who wanted to be God.” Yet if I were not in this body, where would I be—perhaps I am destined to be classified and qualified. But, oh, I cry out against it. I am I—I am powerful—but to what extent? I am I.” Sylvia Plath, Letters Home

Hey. This isn’t really anything. I just wanted to talk. To write. To quote that Plath quote I really like, and to post that rad mega-cool ultra-hip photo of me as Simone de Beauvoir (that’s Anton behind me as Jean-Paul Sartre lol) last Halloween for Planet Terror (thanks Jude!). I just wanted to let you know, whoever you are (if you really are there), that I’m still alive. I’m having a pretty shit time at uni right now. Not because of any drama but you know, the usual hell sem worries, except now it’s overblown and shit’s hit the fan and wow, I can’t believe I’m still awake at 3:18 am when I’ve been sleep-deprived for the past 5 months. Speaking of no sleep. My insomnia’s been worsening. I have acne and I haven’t smoked in a fortnight and I think I not-slept my way to a hemorrhoid but yeah. I’m doing the usual shit. Otherwise I’m doing a bit okay. I think I’m in a better place, or maybe it’s just the stress taking too much of my time and thoughts. Anyway. That’s a good thing, right?

I also watched a couple of movies recently. I really liked Yasujiro Ozu’s Tokyo Story. I like how it doesn’t judge anyone. It’s human condition, to forget that we should love people in the right way. We’re too busy trying to be understood that we forget to be understanding. I get it. How do we reconcile that though? How do we find the balance of selfish and selfless? Or do we have to tip it to one side?

Moving on. This is the trippiest video I’ve ever seen in my life. Chamber of Reflections is my favorite track on Salad Days though. Mac DeMarco is a revelation. Jumping to Korea. Taemin and Kai’s collab Pretty Boy made me survive my EL50 paper. I finally understand why some people don’t like K-Pop. I think it’s a cultural thing. Westerners favor more “authentic” music, so they dislike musicians that have curated images (e.g. Lana Del Rey vs. Taylor Swift). K-Pop, however, works exactly because they change images very easily and rapidly. Each song or album is a new concept. It’s like experimentation and art and culture on steroids. I fucking love that. There’s always something new in Korea.

Moving on. Over the past fortnight, while I was supposedly studying for my Econ majors (TANGENT: I got a perfect score on my liquor market analysis from Prof. Ho. I literally cried. I was failing that class and I had to rewrite that paper 8 hours before passing it because Word crashed. Point is, let me feel proud about that. Yay for validation, I’m on the right track.)– I made a long-ass, super detailed itinerary for my week long trip to Japan next April. Sorta went crazy writing it. 2 days in Osaka, 2 days in Kyoto, 2-3 in Tokyo. I am fucking excited. Literally everything I’m planning, from second sem schedule to fitness goals, are hinged on this Japan trip. Fucking. Excited. I feel bad that I don’t have enough time to visit my host family in Kumamoto though. Hopefully I can go back there if ever I get accepted for that exchange program next year. About that. I applied (for the lulz) for an exchange program to the Netherlands or to Japan. Aiming for Utrecht or Osaka/Kyushu Uni next fall. Not sure if I want to continue with it though, but anyway there’s still an interview.

Meanwhile. My sem’s not yet over (since I still have my stat finals on Monday) but I’m finally tasting freedom. Because of said freedom, I’ve booked a spa date with my friend Alysson and I’m watching Ravel and Debussy played by the Manila Orchestra on Friday with Fatemeh. I’m starting to get a hang of 1-1 hangouts. Usually I’m very awkward being alone with someone else but ever since UP I’m starting to like being alone-ish. Good thing too I guess. I’m also really, really excited about my best friend Nicole’s debut on January, we’re headed to my favorite place on Earth El Nido for a 4-day trip. Really. Really. Excited. So I got that going for me. I’m finally going to be able to go to a beach with my main gal pals to unwind and have fun and have all the pina coladas I want.

I also have the time to read books over the break. Eyeing Pessl’s Special Topics in Calamity Physics (found it in a booksale for 200Php!),Piketty’s Capital in the 21st Century (finally!) and Murakami’s 1Q84. Feeling quite bummed about the fact that I don’t think I can reach my movie target this year (120’s a bit of a long shot at this time) but at least there’s still next year.

Overall I feel generally okay right now. I need to work on my friendship skillz though. I’ve been a shit friend to a lot of people. Also my writing habits. As you can see I’m really in a funk right now, I’ve only been writing to churn out academic papers and I haven’t written a poem in months. But now I’m just really tired and burned out. I really need a break. I guess I have Christmas to do it. Also, note to self: you want an external hard-drive for Christmas. And retail therapy (records and clothes. And make-up).

Only thing that’s been really bothering me lately is my discontent. I feel myself wanting more, not really from anyone else but from myself. It’s always good to improve yourself but it seems that I always want to be everyone and anyone and do everything and anything and yeah, I want to think and feel everything and I want to reach that point. I want to be God. Such hubris. Should I stop myself? Should I take the leap of faith? Whatever I believe in, my actions will operate on and perhaps I’ll be closer to the truth. Will I create truth? Do I dare, disturb the universe? It always goes back to this.

an indifference, a numbness

“I am a millennial. Generation Y, born between the birth of AIDS and 9/11, give or take. They call us the global generation. We are known for our entitlement and narcissism. Some say it’s because we’re the first generation where every kid gets a trophy just for showing up. Others think it’s because social media allows us to post every time we fart or have a sandwich, for all the world to see. But it seems that our one defining trait is a numbness to the world, an indifference to suffering. I know I did anything I could to not feel; sex, drugs, booze. Just take away the pain, take away my mother and my ass hole father, and the press, and all the boys I loved who wouldn’t love me back. Hell, I was gang raped and two days later, I was back in class like nothing happened. I mean, that must’ve hurt like hell, right? Most people never get over stuff like that, and I was like, ‘Let’s go for Jamba Juice!’. I would give everything I have or will ever have just to feel pain again. To hurt. Thank God for minor-league Fiona and her herb garden. One advantage of being kind of dead is that you don’t have to sweat warning labels. There was this one brown liquid that I thought made my nipples tingle for a second, but I think it was psychosomatic because I polished off the rest of it and didn’t feel shit. I tried every ‘eye of newt’ and ‘wing of fly’ until I found something that made me not look like Marilyn Manson anymore. And that’s the rub of all this, isn’t it? I can’t feel shit. I can’t feel anything. We think that pain is the worst feeling. It isn’t. How can anything be worse than this eternal silence inside of me? I used to not eat for days or eat like crazy and then stick my fingers down my throat. Now, no matter how much I binge, I can’t fill this hole inside me. I can’t take it any more. I think I’m going bat shit. I need to do something.” –Madison Montgomery, American Horror Story: Coven