Yesterday I got a good news. I am finally now the top of the class.

There is something about finally reaching a goal that I do not understand. I am not as happy as I thought I would be. I have wished for this greatly and dreamed of the day I would finally be able to achieve it but the happiness I feel now just doesn’t seem to be enough. I want to be happy and I find that I am, just not for this reason. I begin to question what I really want because now that I finally got what I wanted, or thought I wanted, I am not as happy as you would expect me to. And finally achieving this goal poses even more worry. Now I have to maintain this rank and not disappoint my parents and the people who believe in me. The former top of the class is my friend and she’s sad and would probably give a lot just to be in my place right now but here I am feeling all depressed and sappy. It’s like this rank doesn’t compensate for all the worries and effort I put in my studies. There’s no proportion.

I am not sad. There’s just this feeling of being dejected because what I thought I want is not really what makes me happy. The only thing keeping my going is this small sense of pride because my mom is very happy (she’s happier than I am and it makes me feel good to have made her happy) and my closest friends are all doting on me.

I apologize for the depressing tone of this post. It probably ruined your day. On a happier note, Foundation Day in school is just a few weeks away. I wish it would be even better than last year.

2012
01/22
CATEGORY
Musings
2 comments

Spirited Away

I finally decided to pick up Spirited Away again after many, many years. I knew it was something amazing because so far I’ve never heard any bad praises for it. I just didn’t have the motivation to watch it again after years. It’s not because I’m a cynic and I think all things with good praises will not appeal to me like they do the majority. It’s mostly because of my childhood memories. wow. deep.

The only thing that seemed to register on my mind when I first watched this back when I was innocent and young was the disgusting things. Case in point #1, Chihiro’s parents turning into pigs and acting so inhumane and even had a savage quality in them. Case in point #2, No Face eating everything and then vomiting it out a few scenes after. Disgusting. Case in point #3, All that blood on Haku when he was wounded. I am, obviously, older now and these things don’t bother me that much anymore (Except for the vomiting part. ugh. Worst sound in the world. Main reason why I hate when people get drunk.) but my memory seemed to have intensified everything so that it really took me a while to suck it up and grow some balls.

Contrary to what you would believe, I don’t regret picking up this show just now. With a plethora of phlegm knowledge in my now mature brain, I am able to understand the movie even better than I would have had I re-watched it any earlier. The experience of watching this movie was akin to remembering something from your childhood. It was the kind of happiness that had a melancholic tinge to it so that it was almost close to sadness. But it’s the kind of sadness that you actually like having because it made you think; about the people around you, about people you once kept close to you, about yourself.

There was just no dull moment in this movie. It portrayed the idea of growing up, love, friendship and everything else in the most creative manner possible. It was just so beautiful. I’ve watched so many Ghibli films now. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that most of the animated movies I’ve watched is from Ghibli. But this one tops it all. By a long, long, long margin. I’m not sure I even justified it well but I assure you, if you are putting off watching this movie for some reason, then the perfect time to watch it is now. Unless it’s 3am in there, in that case you should go to sleep because seriously, are you trying to kill yourself?, and then watch this when you wake up and then change your sleeping habits. You will regret nothing.

2011
12/27
CATEGORY
. Anime, Manga
Rated 5
Shows
TAGS



2 comments

The Virgin Suicides by Jeffrey Eugenides

The Virgin Suicides
by Jeffrey Eugenides

I do not know how to start this review. I am not sure where this book stands in my heart. It filled me with emotions but not enough for it to overflow. I liked it but there seemed to be no specific point where it picked up pace, gained momentum and finally reached an event where everything just turned beautiful, tragic and unforgettable all at once. Mostly it was just tragic and the thing about ‘mostly being tragic’ is that it stops being one halfway through because you are finally used to it. I’m just glad it’s not like The Lovely Bones. Just the sight of that book makes me wince.

The narration allows us to view the situation as spectators. We are not living the moment and so, a lot of things remain uncertain. We can only make speculations as to why the 5 Lisbon girls decided to kill themselves. I think this is a pretty good way of writing. In fact, I admire the author’s genius for this. It gave way to a realistic feel (because, really, no one will ever really know why a person decides to kill themselves) and in-between reading and resting, a heavy cloud hung upon me. It really did feel like someone just committed suicide in my neighborhood. That’s what makes a good novel, isn’t it? The ability to live the moment, no matter how low the chances are of that ever happening.

The thing that appealed to me the most is the way the Lisbon girls are portrayed. They were so distant and yet so beautiful. They were like creatures wanting to socialize but forbidden to because they were meant to be caged. And what could they do? It was not up to them to decide their fates because someone else was already mapping it out for them. The whole novel gave me a feeling of suffocation. How they could stand it, I cannot even imagine.

The Virgin Suicides was good, beautiful, even. There was just something lacking about it. It left something vital. I wanted to know more about the girls and the reason why they committed suicide. But since we are just spectators, I guess I will never know.

Rated 4/5

2011
12/21
CATEGORY
. Book Reviews
TAGS




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Do any of you still care to visit this blog? I guess not. Oh well, life has always been like that. My life is a repetition of sad events.

Anyway, exams are finally done, Christmas party at school just ended and I have nothing to worry about! Except my growing headache because I slept too much today.

A lot of new things happened during that time I was gone from the internet world. Most of them you won’t even be able to understand because it only makes me happy. I tell my friends stories and they just nod and continue on with theirs. So some are really better off unsaid.

You know how our class is divided into two this year, right? Because we are too many. So basically there’s a huge cat fight going on with our section and theirs. It started with the cheating issue which we probably hinted without malice and they took seriously because it’s true. It’s getting pretty nasty. Although I do not see the point. People in my section cheat as much as they do (probably not as bad but still. Cheating is cheating). Now I do not have the freedom to talk to people in the other section because we are all a bunch of negative idiots. Not like there’s anyone there I particularly wanted to talk to. It’s just that even when you take no part in the argument, your section name grants you a free pass into the cat fight. Why are girls like this? I will never understand.

In another livelier note, Christmas party is done! I got two mangas, which I already know I would get because I forced him to get it and we bought it together. Good things come when you are friends with the person who gets your name. Except when you are really close they feel it’s okay to not give you an extra. Idiot. Anyway, I was happy with my gift (mostly because I like the person who gave it. Isn’t it always that way?)  Oh and my friend also bought me a book, The Virgin Suicides. I haven’t been able to return the favor. Maybe next time we meet.

AND I was narrator for a Christmas play in school (which the girls in the other section claimed sucks. Oh burn) and that was where all my happiness came from, basically. I experienced the most beautiful thing in the entire universe. It was like being in a manga. No kidding.

So anyway, I won’t elaborate. This room is really hot and I can’t organize my thoughts. I’ll talk more next time. bye-bye.

2011
12/17
CATEGORY
Musings
1 comment

Kafka On The Shore by Haruki Murakami

Kafka On The Shore
by Haruki Murakami

It took me a re-read to appreciate this novel, at least a little. Truth was, I didn’t really like it the first time I read it. There was something odd about it. Murakami novels have always been weird, but I felt like this one was even weirder than usual and I finished it with mixed feelings. Even so, I couldn’t hate it. There was something about the novel that made me feel like there was something wrong with me instead of there being something wrong with the novel. It was like the novel was mocking me because I couldn’t understand it instead of feeling down because I couldn’t appreciate it. I sound paranoid, don’t I? Giving the novel a personality, and a very proud one at that. Still, those were what I felt and those were the reasons why I re-read the novel. (I do not want to be mocked by anybody- or anything. Much less an inanimate object.)

It turned out to be a good decision. Though it never managed to be a favorite, I at least had an understanding of what it was about. I caught up on things that I didn’t notice the first time around. I think it was very deep and, as is constantly hinted, is packed-full of metaphors. Not that I understood all of them.

The main reason why I didn’t enjoy it the first time was because of the writing. There was something amateur-ish, for lack of better word, about it. Not the whole novel, mind you. Just the Crow parts. Okay, maybe my prejudices lie on one thing alone: The boy named Crow. Call me crazy, but it annoyed me to no end. The way he repeated a statement into another point of view. Just when everything was getting all dramatic, he butts in and the spell is broken. I don’t get his purpose. Or maybe I did but just refuse to acknowledge him as someone useful, someone who can move the story along. I get the whole symbolism thing about him, but that doesn’t mean I have to like him, right?

The other reasons are just petty and not worth mentioning. If I did, I’d spoil quite a good portion of the novel.

The one thing that made me, well, not exactly like it but at least not hate it, was the alternate world. I didn’t really look deeper into that the first time but now, reading between the lines, everything seems so surreal and dreamy and beautiful. It was the one thing that I could never forget long after putting the book down. And of course, there’s Oshima, the mushroom story and Oshima.

This will perhaps never be my favorite Murakami novel but it will remain unforgettable because it was dreamy and because of the cocky personality the book seemed to have towards me.

I cannot rate this because 3 seems too small and 4 too big.

2011
11/07
CATEGORY
. Book Reviews
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