Another Year

Looking at my clock, I soon realized that I have not been moving for at least 62 seconds. A week has passed, and I thought nothing of last year, except for the few distinct events that must be remembered at some course in the future. It seems that the year flew by in a flash, and for many happy people out there, memorable moments means sharing their thought bubbles with other happy people. But the man in me have somehow grown weary of such undertakings, so I’ve decided to place them on the sidewalk and reflect the passing moments on my own without cataloging boring facts in another post.


The two leading events to be committed to memories are (1) I’ve reached 30 and (2) I managed to attain (with some honorable mentions) a design degree, and it comes as no surprise that I am now grappling with the study loan. But surge on I will, with some confidence at my seams and with right strategies to end it sooner than later. Cause work has been nothing short of dreary, perhaps mundane to a certain extend, I would possibly make another life-altering event before another year comes to past. A plan has to be mapped out. Or so, this man hopes.


The Melbourne study trip last May was a fantastic group event and stays up there in the recollection bank. Along the way, I’ve made a couple of friends with rather interesting attributes. I have seen an upheaval change in love’s momentum, and it stays baffling, in every sense of the word. I don't wish to input further views on this matter but I’m inclined to make better of situations.


I still stand at 170cm and experienced occasional heartburns, wishing to acquire more time to work things out and wanting this heart to procure the unattainable. But I am still that same person who is deprived of some good, sound sleep. The long weekends didn't help.


As always, I have thoughts about closing this blog or making it a portfolio-based site, while moving on to handle greater tasks (planning on penning a screenplay based on my late dad’s stage play), but it seems that play6round would have to stay a little longer than expected, with lesser posts, I reckon. Other things ended well and on a very gratifying note if not all-out glaring. And though it seems to be quite impossible at first (having to graze though the first half with projects and organizing a graduation show), I managed to watch 100 films in 2011 (failed in ‘10, but succeeded in ‘09). I scuttled on the last remaining days and concluded with Spielberg’s Warhorse, an outstanding master class of filmmaking.


Eight days ago, as the clock chimed 12 ushering ‘12, I sat and smiled to myself at having accomplished this little pursuit. No big celebrations, no countdowns, no noise, no bullshits. Just me and a cup of Cola, with some texts to and from loved ones. Boring? Perhaps. But that's the way it goes, and I have no misgivings about that. At 30, I'm reduced to simplicity.


So, it has been a hyperbolic journey on the cinematic tracks -- some good, some bad. There are solid dramas that mixed themes of science & fate (Another Earth, Melancholia, The Tree of Life) and intense thrillers featuring the who's who in the corporate and political private rooms (Margin Call, The Ides of March). Bits of obscure pieces propped in between indie & ingenious (Submarine, The Guard, Trust), while some action flicks really did what they do best: entertain (Hanna, Source Code, Sucker Punch). There are films that transported us back to the age of gold (The Artist, Midnight In Paris) and also a prankumetary that dazzles the wits out of me (Exit Through The Gift Shop). There are ready-made templates of alien invasions in which kids became unsung heroes (Super 8, Attack The Block), but in both instances the originality lies in the thrilling plots that clutched you in and flushed you out with some filmic gold dusts. One should also consider 2011 to be a moderate year littered with classic gems on the animated fronts (Puss In Boots, Rango, The Adventures of Tintin), the latter being an excellent case study in performance-capture (do also watch the well-made Rise of The Planet of The Apes; that Andy Serkis guy is the poster boy for mocap and should already be honoured for perfectly characterizing Gollum, King Kong, Captain Haddock and Ceaser). Although commercially successful sequels and prequels are able to flourish with prepossessing flairs (Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part 2, Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, X-Men First Class) I must proclaim with robust decency that foreign films really made the past year a remarkable one (A Separation, The Skin I Live In, The Kid With A Bike, Crime D’Amour, 13 Assassins, Incendies). Good comedies are rare but a couple are creditworthy, especially the ones that do not resort to dumb or vapid sequences (Bridesmaids, Our Idiot Brother, 50/50, Crazy, Stupid, Love, Carnage). Amongst the best categories are flat-out dramas showcasing all the different emotional range in the spectrum of life (Everything Must Go, A Better Life, The Help, Moneyball, Certified Copy, Beginners, We Bought A Zoo). And finally, there are the stranger lots - the oddballs, the unique, the plain bizarres (Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, The Future, Sound of Noise).


Listing is a tricky process, so why must I bother myself with such banal actions? Because I see movies as an escape route and the only way to recollect the paths is by jotting down what we have already experienced. (Serious???) No, maybe not.


But I insist with smiles. Below are my genuine choices on what could be the best films for 2011 as the voice in my mind expresses. The films, each self-described, should be seen with your own eyes so as to appreciate it's worth. Therefore, any overlong commentaries are not necessary for this column. You have all the rights to disagree with this list and I don’t mind a bit, because everybody’s standard of taste differs greatly when measured against a 1-to-whatever scale:


20 Best Films of 2011

Two passionate individuals battle impossible odds to unite in music and love.

A student and a composer cross paths during the discovery of another Earth.

A son is rocked by two news from his father: that he has cancer, and he’s gay.

Reporter Tintin & Captain Haddock set off on a mysterious treasure hunt.

An offbeat cop is teamed up with an uptight FBI agent in a drug-dealing case.

A young man learns of his cancer diagnosis and struggles to beat the disease.

A teenage gang in South London defend their block from an alien invasion.

A silent movie star is threatened by the advent of talking pictures.

A stuntman, moonlighting as a wheelman, is hunted after a heist gone wrong.

A woman struggles to reconnect with her family after fleeing an abusive cult.

A tone-deaf detective attempts to track down a group of guerilla percussionists.

A couple is forced to face the illusion that a life different from theirs is better.

A surgeon creates a synthetic skin on a woman who holds the key to his fetish.

A sibling find their relationship tested as a new planet collides with Earth.

A boy wishes to lose his virginity before turning 16 and to reunite his parents.

A journalist is aided in his search for a missing woman by a young hacker.

A couple has to choose between moving out or to look after a sickly parent.

A retired espionage veteran is forced to uncover a mole within MI6's echelons.

A mother gets even with those who were accountable for her daughter's death.

A mother deals with grief and guilt for her son who went on a killing spree.

The completed 100 films in alphabetical order:

• 127 Hours
• 13 Assassins (Jūsannin no Shikaku • Japanese)
• 50/50
• A Better Life
• A Separation (Jodái-e Náder az Simin • Persian)
• Abduction
• Another Earth
• Attack The Block
• Beginners
• Bridesmaids
• Carnage
• Certified Copy (English, French, Italian)
• Chico & Rita (Spanish, English)
• Cold Weather
• Confessions (Kokuhaku • Japanese)
• Contagion
• Crazy, Stupid, Love
• Drive
• Everything Must Go
• Exit Through The Gift Shop
• Four Lions
• Hanna
• Happy Feet Two
• Happy, Happy (Sykt Iykkelig • Norwegian, Danish)
• Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows ~ Part 2
• Heartbeats (Les Amours Imaginaires • French)
• Hereafter
• Headhunters (Hodejegerne • Danish)
• Horrible Bosses
• I Am Love (Io Sono L'Amore • Italian)
• Immortals
• Incendies (French, Arabic)
• Instead Of Abracadabra (Istället För Abrakadabra • Swedish)
• Johnny English: Reborn
• Keabadian Cinta (Malay)
• Kl Gangster (Malay)
• Kungfu Panda 2
• London Boulevard
• Love Crime (Crime D'amour • French)
• Map of The Sounds of Tokyo (Japanese / English)
• Margin Call
• Martha Marcy May Marlene
• Melancholia
• Memories of Murder (Salinui Chueok • Korean)
• Midnight In Paris
• Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol
• Moneyball
• Moss (Iggi • Korean)
• One Day
• Our Idiot Brother
• Pirates Of The Caribbean - On Stranger Tides
• Point Blank (A Bout Portant • French)
• Puss In Boots
• Rabbit Hole
• Rango
• Real Steel
• Restless
• Revanche (German, Austrian, Russian)
• Rise of The Planet of The Apes
• Sepi (Malay)
• Setem (Malay)
• Shaolin (Cantonese, Mandarin)
• Sherlock Holmes - A Game Of Shadows
• Simple Simon (I Rymden Finns Inga Kanslor • Swedish)
• Some Boys Don't Leave
• Sound of Noise (Swedish)
• Source Code
• Submarine
• Sucker Punch
• Super 8
• Terri
• The Adventures Of Tintin
• The Artist
• The City of Lost Children (La Cité Des Enfants Perdus • French)
• The Fighter
• The Future
• The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo
• The Green Hornet
• The Green Lantern
• The Guard
• The Help
• The Housemaid (Ha-nyeo • Korean)
• The Ides of March
• The Kid With A Bike (Le Gamin Au Vélo • French)
• The Kids Are All Right
• The King's Speech
• The Skin I Live In (La Piel Que Habito • Spanish, Portugese)
• The Time That Remains (Hebrew, Arabic)
• The Tourist
• The Tree Of Life
• Thor
• Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
• Triangle
• Trust
• Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives (Thai)
• Unknown
• Warhorse
• We Bought A Zoo
• We Need To Talk About Kevin
• X-Men: First Class


I have reserved spaces to view the films listed below, but they were unavailable on local showtimes and online. Too bad, cause they might changed my best-list tremendously seeing that 6 out of 10 films are hot favourites within the awards roundtables. They'll certainly make their way this season: A Dangerous Method • Hugo • La Guerre Est Déclarée • Margaret • My Week With Marilyn • Polisse • Take Shelter • The Descendants • Shame • Young Adult

2012 should be a year of ideas. There must be some plans for changes too. Not before sorting out this hard disc problems which are causing the iMac to reboot slower than the delayed east-bound train.

The Noughties List

The list which I’m about to reveal has been sitting in the back-burner folders for aeons, and as far as I am concerned, I have very little ambitions to return to them and penning down my views with any points of observation, but after watching a latest release on the previous weekend (Immortals was not up to much, arresting visuals at best), it’s dawned on me that I must run some thoughts on this. Since I am on a staycation for several days on a personal mission, I guess I'll make some exceptions and spend the night sorting, finally putting this list out in the light.


There were many titles in the noughties to be shortlisted from a myriad of movies that have reigned supreme in their specific genres. There are outstanding titles that I haven’t got the opportunity to watch, while dozens didn’t make the cut and plenty were left on the sideboard as I laid them like a Rubik’s cube trying my best to unscramble them in some specific order befitting the list (earlier this year I’ve resorted to re-watching the finalists to gather my selections but had to cease the sessions when I got progressively busy with school and became slightly mental).


The final films were chosen based on a set of criteria which I presumed can only be regarded as a personal regulation; we are, after all, evaluators of own making. The rules include factors in storylines, cinematographic styles and directions, the integration of visual and sound, the acting and the writings. Needless to say, this is one person's list of ambiguous choices.


So, let’s cut to the chase. Here we go, in descending order:


20 Best Films in the First Decade of the 21st Century (2000-2009)

The Hours stick to its source material quite faithfully, having read Cunningham’s Pulitzer Prize-winning novel about three women of different generations whose melancholic lives are interconnected by a novel written by Virginia Woolf, who is convincingly played by Kidman (with a prosthetic nose!) in which her believable characterization shows an actress at the top of her game; and her sole Oscar win in 2003 proves to be just that.

It’s not at all surprising when Schnabel won the Best Director in the 65th Golden Globe and Cannes Film Festival in 2007 for The Diving Bell & The Butterfly, as his direction for the biopic about Jean-Dominique Bauby, the French journalist, writer and editor for Elle magazine, moves like a dreamy tone-poem or resembles a painting pigmented from a palette of heart-rending scripts by Harwood and the stunning camera movements of Kamiński.

Snatch could possibly be the unbeaten crime film in the last decade for a number of reasons: one being the assorted top-notch casts (Pitt in his typecast role) who led us into London’s forbidding world of villainies, along with Ritchie’s uniquely deft treatments of cockney slang and multi-plot twists that often caught audience by surprise, coupling those with his fast-paced edits which transported us into a journey both hysterical and thrilling.

With accelerating storyline and action segments, most of which are complex set pieces of the highest order involving lengthy single-shot sequences (the longest is 7 and a half minutes long!), Alfonso Cuarón’s Children of Men (adapted from the novel of the same name) is a cinematic triumph; a science-fiction escapade with socio-political overtones which won the BAFTA for Best Cinematography and Production Design.

Woody Allen says it all when he claimed that Match Point might be the best film he ever made when everything just happened to come out right and clicked, from the acting to the photography, and significantly so were his dialogues and scenes, which was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay and has been analysed as a scholarship subject - an exemplary of ecocriticism as an economic school of thought.

Dogville is the first and exceptional installment in Lars Von Trier’s USA: Land of Opportunities Trilogy; innovative in its own way -- a distinct parable that uses a very minimal stage-like setting to present the story of Grace (Kidman) who found refuge in a small town, while Trier delivers strong anti-American messages with deep introspective implications of good against evil depicted in nine chapters.

When you put two eccentric individuals in the same room, what you will get in the end is a product of genius; hence we have Kaufman and Gondry, the writer and the director respectively, both of whom has the ability to fuse fantasy and realism through any mode of storytelling, in this instance a stylish thriller with touches of science to explore the essence of memory and romance (winner of Academy Award for Best Original Screenplay).

One name: Christoph Waltz, and the rest is self-explanatory: Tarantino is swell, and his script is not limited by his drolleries or ornate trademarks which never seem to stale; in fact his crafts simply got better with each project he undertakes and this we are sure of because we have come to grasp the understanding that his pursuit of pictorial theatrics knows no bloody boundaries.

There could never be a more memorable vampire movie than Interview With The Vampire, or so I thought, but I retracted and ingested my words after watching Let The Right One In - a Swedish sleeper hit that illustrates the timeworn genre in a different light, interlocking teenage and social issues with striking shots that seems to elevate it’s modest narrative outlines, giving viewers just enough thrills to feel the tension.

One can choose to recognize his larger, monumental works, namely Zodiac and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, but here I've settled on Fincher’s smaller endeavaours: Panic Room, a visual exercise in confined cinema which stands out as a cult hit, with minimalist storyline and arresting cinematography, combined with subliminal cutting-edge effects that heightens the plot and keeps you at the edge of your seat, even after multiple viewings.

The last three movies have brought him to the substratum of doom, but M. Night is an astute storyteller, so I couldn’t resist sifting at least one (out of three) of his stronger productions and thus arrived at No. 10 with Unbreakable: a comic-book referential piece in a form of a psychological thriller, with a solid denouement to jolt the unanticipated audience watching in the dark.

Christopher Nolan is arguably one of the rising visionary directors, and with The Prestige, he gave us another classics following his typical patterns of non-linear narratives, which takes us to the forefront of magic and mystery with compelling themes of obsession, sacrifice and secrecy -- common Shakespearian tragedies conjoining with sci-fi elements in the making of a dramatic brilliance.

Two hit men formed an odd team of comic disaster in a dark comedy that strings themes of the undulating human condition in the course of redemption, all while the picture moves with sharp acting and capricious play of spoken words, worth a nod for McDonagh’s direction and screenplay (BAFTA for Original Screenplay) and his nonpareil choice of stars: Farrell, Gleeson and Fiennes.

An imaginary yarn of warfare and enigma, Jeunet’s A Very Long Engagement is entertaining on every level, from it’s inventive camera works (the extensive use of crane choreography) to the haunting score that compliments every single scene, and it is a delight to watch the ever talented Audrey Tautou in one of her credible characters of contemporary French Cinema as she narrates the fanciful tale.

Today’s flicks have fallen into harebrained terrains in which actions speak louder than plots, and few films have made their marks by cleverly combining the two; which brings me to Spielberg’s finest feature of the last decade, Minority Report, adapted from Philip K. Dick’s novel that has all the elements in place: the pacing of a great thriller anchoring on a precognitive concept set in a formidable future, while questioning the existence of one’s own free will.

Peter Jackson’s representation of the fantasy tales based on the epic trilogy by J. R. R. Tolkien clearly sets the way for imitators, as it became one of the highest-grossing and critically acclaimed adventure films of all times, sweeping accolades one after another (11 out of 11 wins in the 76th Academy Awards) and receiving wide-praises for it’s phenomenal realism through the usage of CGI and first-class digital advancements.

Not many superhero movies have succeeded in generating a brand of difference, avoiding hackneyed motifs, amassing a loyal following, or even lending their voices to the memes of a new era, but The Dark Knight stood out, and no movie this decade whose anarchical miscreant was more impressively performed as Ledger’s Joker -- certainly Nolan’s interpretation of Batman surpasses his own ambitions as it becomes one of the boldest film to grace the cinema, and beyond.

For movies with offbeat characters, unconventional scenes and impeccable comic timings, look no further than Wes Anderson’s body of work, for here I've ranked The Royal Tenenbaums at third placing; a dramedy of absurd proportions with intelligent writing (nominated for Best Screenplay) that dazzles with every frame shown, from the zany narrative opening to his popular slow-mo end shots.

Amélie is a decent, wide-eyed girl who let us into her world of wonders, taking us onto an extraordinary trip that never fails to captivate our visual sensory; and all these were made possible from the artistic visions of Jeunet who orchestrated his tour-de-force with great panache and beautiful styling through detailed mise-en-scène, where each revelry revealed is a feast for the sight and a viand for the soul.

A grand exemplar of hyperlink cinema, Meirelle’s City of God stands at the apex of cinematic excellence, with it’s authentic portrayal of gangsterism in the Brazil slums, the depictions of organized crimes and genuine character studies in the war between drug dealers; but the luminescence of the film can be found at the heart of the story powered by the exquisite artistry in camera tricks, shot angles, jump cuts, split screens, vibrant hues and sound designs -- all the elements that bring us to the crux of the matter with furious urgency.

So there you have it, at long last, the mother of all movie lists. Here's a toast to another decade of great shows. Vive le cinéma!

With this clearly out of the way, I can now get back to other urgent matters in the task list, and I can announce with slight regrets that the mission to view 100 films per year is taking a toll on me. So this year, like the last, would see me struggling to reach that mark. I am at 57th with Beginners. Probably one of the better films this year. Adieu et que Dieu bénisse.

On Solitary

Brief Notations On Solitary By A Retired Recluse

Why is there a need to travel when your own country feels familiarly foreign?

Press PAUSE.

These days I've been walking extremely slow to see how fast the world is moving. Everything is a bokeh of triteness in a dessicated land. I would then recline and submersed myself to the extremely complex syncopated notes of jazz because it makes me marginally productive (or so I feel, but there are no legitimate proofs to uphold my statement), and I am inclined to use this method, every so often, when I run out of vim or vigor which can be found (empty) in the vitality tank deep-seated within the 30th embodiment of my modest physique.


I used to make a seemingly decorous effort to shed some manly tears. It makes me feel like I am born all over again. Strangely, somehow, it makes me want to commit some of the same mistakes in order to prove to the cynics (or people of that sorts who are deprived of fixity!) that I can never be perfect. It's not about breaking down; it's about letting off pent-up emotions (we all have them, many seems to deny, especially men). Crying also revitalises, in some way or another, and the best cries (not the sissy sorts, mind you) should be done in prayers or undisturbed corners without the intervention of other humankinds. Solitary can be gratifying if you know how to define it. By your own musings, the cloistered impetus can be pleasurable.


Poker-faced men should never call a crying man by funny, disconcerting names, like wuss, if those wooden men thought that a man who cries is a wuss. Getting teary-eyed is perfectly normal (any genders considered) even after you reached the age of retirement, or when you collapsed headlong into the entrapment of boredom. Or even when your passions died halfway to your midnight reveries.

Alone, you divert and pursue an interest.


Solo walking is highly recommended, but not under the scorching sun or without an umbrella during wet weather. Truth be told, I'm rather fond of wandering in less-crowded places, usually malls, because it gave me an opportunity to make my own reasoning of the enclosure or situations, without any contradicting logics from shopping partners or pertinacious peers who love to yammer ad infinitum about the next big thing. Next to walking is reading, in an unfrequented park, or a semi-populated cafe. Third would be to watch a film of any kind mid-afternoon in an almost empty multiplex. Fourth, jogging without plugging on to your iPod. Fifth, making observation through people-watching (casual glances, never gawk or stare!). Sixth, filling a canvas with abstract anythings (fruit flies flirting with fleas, droopy-eyed dragons dreaming of drapes, an assemblage of simpletons assigning scientific symbols to suspended cymbals, etc). And seventh, finding your voice (through writing, pen on paper, voice recording, v-logging, fictional memoir, list of whys, gibberish verses, pseudoplay, etc).


I am not here to ramble on the topics of Being Alone, but instead, to puzzle over the dubious subjects of Being Alive. It is easier enough to scribe than acting it out aloud. To find oneself, one needs judgments of self amongst his circle of friends. Often, seclusion involves inclusion. To set verdicts and fulfill expectations; these are daunting tasks at hand. We then invite ourselves to questionings. We might also dangerously lead a path to find answers where little or none exists.


People around you can judge you by what they see, physically -- your appearance and manner appear somewhat contrasting from those perception you had in your mind. But be mindful, that not all visual comprehensions you had painstakingly airbrushed on your thought canvas (in technicolour or otherwise) are distorted illustrations. Alas, they can also be true. Be mindful also that whatever I said, or about to say, can be some formation of lies, or the provenance of that.


Let's just say that the truth is scary. They can betray your foundations.

From a solitary state to another, one reveals every concealment, one plunges into obscure recesses, one lies on the bed of doubts. One probably makes a number of deductions based on remarks commented by mutual individuals, by those whom they fear, or by the people they failed to make any connection with, or perhaps by the ones they seek genuine solace. I could easily find myself by loosing myself, in the jesting of words and in the making of arts. Oftentimes I failed miserably. And sometimes, after contemplating for the longest of seconds on what could be the ideal driving force to keep me going, I sleep.


I could, in situations, find myself when I talked to Him, but this particular action involves a certain amount of intense (or rather absorbed) solitary concentration, which, as I began to understand and learnt, is harder to attain when your mind is bogged down with tenderhearted issues.


Isolation might be one of the issues. Another, the realism of marriage.


I must ask myself, quite earnestly, if the reason for living lies in another person. In finding someone to share the same philosophy of living as me, what then am I asking myself? It was written in many earlier passages made known to man (by man) that we are never alone on earth. I am not taking about ghosts or aliens. I was thought at an early age that everyone is born with his/her partners already inscripted in the Almighty’s detailed scheme; a religious belief, so to speak. Even then, from the earliest beginning, no one is unaccompanied. In our infant life, we struggled to crawl in cadence with the ideals rooted by our loving parents. In our adolescent life, we scattered into lame-brained territories and joined forces with likeminded compadres to pull off nonsensical tricks (usually memorable affairs with comic timings that are workable as stories for children or grandchildren). In our adult life, we shift into higher gears, altering our commitments with the demands of self, maybe parents, or others, like your superiors who are obviously making more money than you (about time that I lead my own creative bureau!). In death, you are advancing through another phase. You will end all connections with those you have lived with, many of whom, at some point in their lives, have experienced loneliness in ways unmeasured.

Completely unreserved and unlatched from any impositions, we are usually at the crest of our characters. By ourselves, in a room of a secluded place, far off a beaten track, in a time and space where time and space carry very little meaning, we can be found at our most vulnerable. That is when we tend to make sense of things - we reconstruct our judgments and reassess data to know who we really are. When we flee into confinement, or pursuit the concepts of reclusion, we will gather our strengths (of whatever's left at our disposal) and reflect on the lows and highs of life. In solitary, our social forms perished, living a life like a wasp born and bred singly.


We hide, before we brace ourselves to embrace challenges.


For that perfect solitary moments, there are many incredible ways, but here are some decent spots that I found quite appropriate to be in by oneself (atmosphere being constant for outdoor, a little cloudy with occasional wind):


1. Airport Viewing Terminal (watching people travelling to other locales)
2. Breakwater, overlooking a sea of nothingness (avoid weekends & holidays)
3. A secluded place that brings back fond memories (of lovers, or the deceased)
4. Bathroom (in a bathtub, but not for too long)
5. The unoccupied dimly-lit section of a library (with or without a book in hand)
6. Cafe (one of few customers, scarcely furnished, hot cocoa for effect)
7. A small room with no Internet connection (enough said)

I'm tempted to say lighthouse, and watchtowers, but I have never been to one, so I gladly stopped at 7.


In the day-to-day ongoings, you should consider other options. Open yourself to reinterpretations. Whenever you are ensnared in a decision-making dilemma, try to free yourself from contemplations and choose the first order in the resolution list(s), quick and without afterthoughts. Worry about the backfires later. Be at your unrehearsed state. Be spontaneous, but never unselfconscious. Heed your visceral voice. Simplify, improvise or act on whims and strange impulses. Be you.


But who are you, really?


Press PLAY.

The world is a place where visions are cast and dreams are shaped, and on many occasions, destroyed. We need people to shove us away from holes of despair; we need buddies (even if it's only one average person) to give us reassurances or to make us realize the potentials we had. We have family members for one sensible reason: to compare some things with another person of the same bloodline. We have lovers to lean on, confidantes to give us courage, pals to be foolish together. It is in our natural ability to assume that we can be better in what we do, perhaps much better than others. Aiming so, we should never compete with the rest to be better. We should strive to be the best for our own good, idealistically speaking (all these optimism coming from a realist, I wonder to myself).


Almost always, our dreams of a perfect life is never in line with the ones we are currently living. There are minor (or major) adjustments here and there. A little snips to make this, a bit of scissions to create that, leaving those, adding these, keeping, throwing, ceasing, building. Normally, we can achieve these without the helps of others. There are days when we totally benefited from them.


We are constantly moving and removing -- gliding to the momentum of change. The slightest movements can affect our daily course of actions.


So here I am from where I was. Altogether now? Or just on my own?


Everything is familiarly foreign as the ear-splitting thunders begin to mock my venial existence. Motion blurriness transpiring in a scaled-down 4-by-4 solitary unit with just enough legroom to feel my anxiety. And all I wanted to say is this -- I must travel soon*.

*I am already regretting my decision of not going to Tokyo this year, for reasons I'm still trying to ascertain. Next year, next year!!!

Tiny Thoughts

01

My life's footnotes are numbered. They are oblivious to the existence of asterisks and daggers.

02

First, to excavate. Then, to vacate.

03

The world seems to be divided into two camps: the ones who lived by the wall, and the others who tweet and go.

04

Convene behind closed doors and descend into absurdity. Sometimes we must.

05

Sandwiched in betwen X and Y - just ax one out and don't ask why.

06

We all have dark secrets locked within, but the answers to the key are not questions -- just empty rhetorics.

07

The banalities of office subculture.

08

To retrace a face. To deface a place. To misplace a space.

09

When in doubt, be in doubt.

10

Get a grip on yourself but always let loose. The Geminians are forever imprisoned in the capital of Irony.

Yesterday's memories are persistent. The good ones are precious reels which keep rolling when I'm heavily at rest; the bad ones pose more queries and are interrogative by nature. Ask no more, but ask, nevertheless.