Eyeballs In Alcohol

I’ve realized, after seeing (bits and parts) of the Suicide Club, I am not that grown-up nor hip enough to sit through a movie that promises a bloodbath.

Sure, I could stomach Battle Royale or Azumi, the least, but Suicide Club and all of its fake blood left me squeamish. When I do finally get the nerve to finish it without hitting the fastforward button post-haste, I would have to soak my eyeballs in alcohol after it’s over.

Suicide Club is a disturbing Japanese movie that came out after the Ring series (I think) and came out in 2002, when everyone was too thrilled enough to jump into the Asian Horror bandwagon. Its notorious moment is at the beginning of the movie when 54 schoolgirls leap into their deaths into a speeding train. With that prelude, that’s saying something about the number of horrifying deaths that follow.

It exploits over-the-top violence to back up what it seems as art and social commentary, but in the end, at least on my part, it was just an absurd mess. It was purely for shock and awe. Whatever relevant point the movie wanted to come across, it was lost at the sight of rolled up skin the audience was treated to.

Moving up

I’ve finally decided that I will enjoy these last few remaining days of being unattached and unperturbed by the modern world’s nuisances for a healthy young modern girl like me -- i.e. stress. I am willing to treat this downtime as a period for learning and discovery. What’s ironic is that this couldn’t have come in a better time. It’s parallel with the imperialist US’s recession. What a way to mark this significant period of quarter life. Hope this is temporary. I want to work dammit. He. he.

To celebrate this newfound freedom, I've switched homes...well, kinda. I've moved over to multiply too. Here's the link: tin the optimist

Hope to see you there!

The New Obsession

Low quality video streaming has become this week’s mild obsession. Crunchyroll.com is to blame for it. I love that site.

In an attempt of rekindling my interest in human history and restoring my faith in commercialism, I did the next best thing to college education. I went to see the movies.

I now honestly can say that I love Asian cinema and television. I am a convert.

Its amazing how much ridiculous and socially brazen plotlines Asian filmmakers can think of. The kind of material I’ve come across so far has managed to thrill, shock and confuse me altogether. We are a diverse continent, but the myriad of cultural differences we have makes you think: how can a slight change in location bring about such alienation? Okay, stupid question. But you have to agree, granted that it is heinous to judge a country not on its own terms but off of another‘s cultural standards, still, we cant help ---- as people who don’t know any better---- quiz the social norms of another based on our beliefs and our personal truths. That is at least what I did. Seeing a Japanese schoolgirl getting the hots for a man thrice her age in youth-oriented programming (and vice versa) isn’t necessarily amusing. In my side of the world, that’s what we call perversion. However, I am resolute in enlightening this half-assed wit.

I’ve developed a system. I go through the morbidly tasteful and frighteningly beautiful movies --- which really are the bulk of my serious education. I then wash them all down with fun, frilly and happy-scary dramas at the end of the day to rid of the heebie-jeebie vibes I get from watching heads decapitated. On some days I just go straight and enjoy a series with a Disney ending. It’s a solid, foolproof plan for people like me who have yet to develop profound sensibilities for sitting through Battle Royale without cringing. And yes, I have seen it. Beyond the bloody gore, it is what its fans claim it to be --- a brilliant cinematic feat. The Japanese do not kid around with the switchblade, I tell you. Go and see it. It is that good.

I can’t seem to finish All about Chou Chou though. I just know the kids in the movie spiral into a horrible fate. Call me crazy, but I’m not ready to see it just yet. Maybe in a week or so, after I've stuffed my brain with enough pop sugar of Coffee Prince and the Yukan Club.

Tokyo Tokyo

Tokyo snores.

The cat has talents, mind you.

It bites unwanted guests, melts you into goo with one look, and now, apparently, snores.

I fear it might be a symptom for something deathly serious. I hope not.



Who cannot resist a face like this?

Jan 01, 2008

Hello World.

So here I am again. Out to face another year full of challenges, the occasional mishap and the deliriously brief surprises which make up most of my eventful calendar. I am short of making good of all the promises I’ve kept over the last year, but I’m somewhat happy that, at least, I tried. There’s so much to do, but somehow I get stuck in midair and almost paralyzed by the thought of accomplishing everything in so little time. I’ve also taken to wallowing as a hobby. Being idle is like stuck in recently declared non-existent purgatory. It contaminates everything. Case in point: I’ve almost given up writing. I hope I don’t do that definitely. It would be crazy to harbor all these demons and keep it all in the head. Not very good. So here I am again, grasping for words to exhale every bothersome and gnawing thought. I hope to correct myself this year. Rather, cure myself. For real this time. I’m already 26 and the universe wont exactly be waiting for me to finally have the enthusiasm for changing. That’ll take too long. So I’m imposing these therapy-sort of writing sessions upon myself, hoping that when half the year goes by, I’ll be pleasantly at peace with myself.

Love Letter

Dear Existent Void,

I'm starting anew.

The black mood has become sooo overated.

So here I am world.

Love,

The Optimist

Here I Am World

Writing in a completely random( and unknown) blog makes life a tad less miserable. You dispel whatever disease your mind harbored for a week out into the void and no one wants to come out and bite you in the ass for saying the stuff you did(and did not do) last week. The plus side: there is that off-chance that some chronically bored person stumbled onto your secrets and realized how his/her life is actually more miserable that yours. Or not. Oh well. Whatever this does for my sanity.

Here’s something I’d like to dispel. Not because I want to be less miserable, but because I think it’s slowly eating its way into my soul. It’s rotten already and a few more of these thoughts, I’ll eventually become numb… or dead (metaphorically, of course).

November 10, 2007
"There are a couple of things I’d like to write before it spells the end of me. I’ve been trying to convince myself that I’ve finally rid of my demons. They’re here to stay, I suppose. I’m not me without these. Whatever these are. I’ve never taken myself to be that eventual being that wins through natural selection. Because I never have been. I may not have the potential either to become one. I am a catastrophe. And that’s short of dramatic interlude. I’m just… well, screwed. That’s the melodrama of it all.
It’s amazing how the mind works. When is dead set to go into sulk-bite-and-die mode, everything just breaks down in unison---your ego and then your immune system. So what am I talking about? I really don’t know now. My mind just went blank."

I wrote this when I was insane. Fortunately, I snap out of these spells and I return to my usual less morbidly miserable self. When did I become so unhappy? I don't know. I take joy in the little things (or so I try to convince myself). The universe these days, however, has other plans. It wants me to take in the bigger picture. But I cant handle that right now. I'm in between mood swings.

Hopefully, I'll get something out of this "vacation". It hasn't been very therapeutic.