Back in the land of no social life outside of abode, I turned once again and sought refuge in the busy virtual streets of online chatting. I was at the ripe age of fourteen when I first set foot in this city. People walked confidently wearing masks of certain anonymity. It was a place that guaranteed no physical injuries even to the bloodiest fights, but where bloodless violence led to fiercest of emotional casualties.
Words were swords and wits were shields.
Every shyness drowned in the black hole of oblivion. Hesitation was nonexistent. It was just a matter of telling or not telling. Deepest darkest secrets became light and shallow. It was easy to unburden weighty emotions to strangers. It cost fewer complications. There was almost no reputation to preserve. Anything can be as raw as cold blood.
Of course it was not all about truth. Honesty was a dark blur in any virtual world. Dishonesty was abundant and overflowing. You can’t be too careful in presenting trust.
Eight years passed. I’ve stepped once again, in this dark dwelling, now in the form of a cell phone.
Tada.
I had fun. Haha! Lots of fun! It was my time to torture newbies and make fun them. I get kicked and get banned most of the time because according to them, I had no breeding. I’d literally roll on the floor and laugh.
I remember going to the cinema to see 300 a few months ago. I enjoyed, even if I ventured out on the movie by myself. If it weren't running so late, I would've watched it three times straight. I’ve never seen it again. So I asked my dad if he had a copy, instead I was handed this. The original! Well, not technically. "It was the first movie I saw in the cinema," he began. "I watched it with your grandfather. It was in the 60s," he finished. He likes cutting stories short, my father.
Anyway. So the CDs that fell into my hands weren't just the original. It had sentimental value. Being both fans of 300 and generally good movies, my brother and I sat down on this one sunny morning.
There were no earthshaking roars of "Ahu! Ahu! Ahu!" No half-naked, polished bodies of men (eye candy). No slow-motion, etc. special effects. No digitally gorgeous landscape. No exquisite oracles. No blood. No gore.
It was plain and crisp. More accurately historical. And is just more real.
(Written aboard an aging Boeing747.)
I'm guessing we've been flying for two hours now. It's been two years since I flew on a plane.
During take off, I asked my brother if he had candy. He pushed out his tongue, balancing a small red hard candy along the tip. I asked if he had any more. He checked his hand carry, a camera bag preserving an antique Sony Video8. He felt the side pockets and retrieved another piece of red candy. But demented over the girlfriend that he was, I was denied of the ear-popping remedy. "It was given to me, to be eaten by me," he declared.
And so my ears went popping all the way up to 35,000 feet in the air. As consolation, my brother repeated the words of flight attendants who assisted us more than ten years ago, "Just keep gulping."
Riiight. Thanks bro. Needed that more than the candy.
I began to envy the little girl sitting on the middle isle. She had candies. The colorful, chewy, stretchy ones. I salivated and gulped. She kept watching the scratchy window beside me, like I did. But I didn't have to stretch my neck. I only needed to turn my head to the left, to the left.
It's purely wings anyhow. Heck.
So, how was it?
Sick.
Why, asked my good friend whom I call Pudding.
I condensed the movie in one text message. Seconds later, he expressed more repugnance about it than I had. I can’t blame him. The movie attacked his beloved faith on the Catholic Church.
I came across this movie while browsing for some good rents at Video City. It was on the Drama section and thought it might be good since Gael García Bernal (Y Tu Mama Tambien, Amores Perros) was star. I didn’t pay much attention to the plot or the title. I just wanted to watch more foreign films as well as Gael. And boy, was I in for a surprise. I haven’t seen anything so controversial (for lack of a better word). It was bravely done, especially with the sensitive subject of faith and religion tackled so much.
I know how idealistic I can be with the world around me, but there are times when truth and reality knocks me down to remind that nothing and nobody is ever perfect. Ever. Although I firmly believe in God and his perfection, I’m not afraid to accept that no religion is as perfect. Human beings, involved in it, were created and are bound to make mistakes. No exceptions, whether you be a priest, a nun, Buddha, or a scientologist.
Pudding wasn’t so yielding on this one. He was disgusted at the thought. He has a brother who is a priest. “Blasphemy! How dare they make such movie!”
The movie portrayed an ugly picture of the Catholic Church and its priests. It was horrible, really. But unlike my friend, I do not condemn the makers of this film. I believe the cruel world creates more than enough possibilities for scandals to happen.
I treated myself to a special Friday the 13th treat today. Also, because I woke up in the morning, finally! National elections are coming up this May and the campaigners are on the run. Twenty thousand pounding drums stampeding on our street allowed for a wake up call, if at all slowly. If only I could have an alarm clock like that!
Training my brain with Skinner’s positive reinforcement theory, I attempted to associate early waking with a good movie. I went out to see The Reaping, alone. It wasn’t much of a horror or thriller, but the fact that I was watching it alone made up for the much sought fright. There were moments when I had to peek through my fingers during fading up of chilling sound effects. When silence and dialogues return, I’d immediately scan my left and right to see if someone, or worse, something, was beside me. I tried to constrain my imagination. I've read great reviews about this movie, but it doesn't really fall under my favorites. It was a so-so.
After the movie, I did a bit of grocery shopping. I was next to the cashier lane when I checked my wallet and noticed that I forgot to bring my ATM card. I didn't have cash with me! I began to flush. I excused my way out against the queue, out of embarrassment. There was this one big fat kid who won't let me through. I acted as if I had forgotten to pick up something really really important. Good grief I carried only a basket. What shame if I'd shopped a cart! After walking away from the cashier lanes, I carefully abandoned the cute little yellow basket, filled with bathroom supplies and crackers, behind one of the stands. I exited, coolly, hoping nobody noticed.