Platonic, He Says

PLATONIC MY ASS.

Brain Candy, Part Deux

Death Note
(1 Season - Currently Airing : 10 Episodes)


To anyone else, acquiring the power to kill at a whim might initially seem enthralling, and, falling back to reality, immediately terrifying. But to Light Yagami, who feels a burning need to deal his brand of justice to the world, it would have been close to heresy if such power was left untapped. When he picked up the Death Note dropped by the shinigami Ryuk and started causing criminals worldwide to die by heart attack, this need -- which was already bordering on megalomania -- found exactly what it wanted to feed on.

Suffice it to say this "phenomenon" did not go unnoticed, and that's precisely how Light planned his vision to unfold. Soon enough, the public dubbed this mysterious force as "Kira" (derived from Killer), and unsurprisingly, the crime rates from all parts of the globe began dwindling.

While most people worldwide thought this was a good thing, not everyone -- especially not the International Criminal Police Organization, or ICPO -- had the opinion that killing off criminals above their sentence was a good way of dispensing justice. It is at this point that they decided to hire the services of an enigmatic but extremely intelligent investigator known only as "L" to find out who Kira is. And true to his reputation, L was already a step ahead from the ICPO as he wasted no time in making his presence known to Kira.

The mind traps both Light and L set up for each other are clever, complex, and oft times coldly cruel. "Each person is searching for an adversary whose identity is a complete mystery, and the first to be found will die." Ryuk was right when he said humans are infinitely interesting creatures.


Bleach
(106 Episodes - Currently Airing)


I'm not even sure how to begin describing this behemoth. Basta, ever since I started watching it, isa lang masasabi ko:

ASTEEEEEEEEEEEG.

Brain Candy, Part Un

For the purpose of getting things down on paper -- or binary code, at least -- I will be listing down the different anime series I am currently watching. This is not an attempt at writing a review. I will be leaving that to the people who know better (or claim to). I am doing this partly for my benefit, because I have a feeling I might forget I ever liked them if I don't list them down somewhere; and partly for my friends, so I can at least get them interested in things that get my heart a-tingle. It's no fun getting all worked up and excited over a new episode by myself. Hehehe. So in no particular order, my current brain candy:


xxxHOLiC
(1 Season : 24 Episodes : 1 Movie)


Kimihiro Watanuki has been haunted by different kinds of spirits for as long as he can remember. It would have been OK if the spirits leave him alone, but such is their attraction to Watanuki's presence that they are almost always latching onto every free part of the poor kid's body without giving him a moment's rest. That is, until Watanuki stumbled upon a strange looking house owned by an equally strange looking woman who introduced herself as Yuuko Ichihara, or the Dimensional Witch.

Yuuko explained to Watanuki that their meeting was not out of coincidence -- for coincidences are merely illusions -- but rather, it was because of Hitsuzen, or Inevitability. And since Watanuki was led into Yuuko's "shop," it must mean he has a wish he needs fulfilled. However -- and this was something Yuuko was very particular about -- although she has the power to grant any wish a person may desire, it naturally has to be exchanged with something of equal value. The Universe will, after all, indiscriminately carve out a path to preserve its balance whenever that balance is disrupted by any means, magical or otherwise.

Of course initally, Watanuki was skeptical -- which was a little odd for someone who was constantly being mauled by spirits of all shapes, sizes, and alignment -- but eventually, the desire to have his deepest wish fulfilled won out, so he finally agreed to Yuuko's terms. Yuuko then told Watanuki that she will release him from the curse of his blood, but in return, he will be working part-time for Yuuko as her servant. Watanuki was not too happy with Yuuko's proposal to say the least, especially when she told him that she will lift his curse after she decides to release Watanuki from her employ.

But for all of Yuuko's eccentricities, Watanuki was able to learn a lot and value all the strange, wonderful, and sometimes even scary things which Yuuko has opened for him. From the rich territories of Japanese mythology, to complex mysteries, and even delving into the realm of the metaphysical, xxxHOLiC is a series almost dark in its telling, but insightful and humorous at its core.


TSUBASA CHRoNiCLE
(2 Seasons : 56 Episodes : 1 Movie)


Syaoran and Sakura move as the epicenter of the entire CLAMP Universe in TSUBASA CHRoNiCLE. Although not quite the same as the kids who gathered the mysterious Clow Cards from the Cardcaptor Sakura series, the Syaoran and Sakura of TC are just as pure, innocent, and driven to do good wherever parallel universe they are taken to. Together with the strong and perceptive swordsman Kurogane, the mysterious sorcerer Fye, and the eternally kawaii Mokona Modoki, they traverse through different dimensions in search of Sakura's memory feathers.

Essentially a love story, TC is at first taste tragic when Syaoran asks help from Yuuko, the Dimensional Witch, in order to restore Sakura's memory feathers. Yuuko agrees to this wish, but naturally demands something of equal value as payment -- in the form of Sakura's memories of Syaoran. To put it simply, even if Sakura regains all of her memory feathers, she will not remember Syaoran or her special relationship with him. But despite the cruelty of Yuuko's terms -- and Syaoran being who he is -- he still agrees to the Witch's proposal, and in turn receives from her the power to travel across dimensions through Mokona Modoki.

Suffice it to say, this series is the mother of all crossovers within the magically diverse world of CLAMP. Although it is not an absolute requisite in enjoying TC, being familiar with most of the other CLAMP titles adds to the excitement and element of surprise when encountering a character from another series making an appearance in an episode -- or even an entire story arc. For the most part, TC delivers emotions both bittersweet and hopeful, and, as with most of the other works by CLAMP, promises a story of magic and intricately beautiful detail.


NEXT: Death Note and Bleach.

The Million-Faerie Massacre

Every Christmas season, the Ayala Malls have weekend fireworks exhibitions which never fail to enthrall anyone who happen to be in the area. Apart from that, the whole Makati CBD becomes adorned with beautiful Christmas lights, it almost feels like walking into Lothlorien (or Lothlorietta, as Ly puts it), sans elves and little flying things.

Last night however -- and one can not be sure what caused this thought train to leave its tracks -- there was a sense of foreboding evil lingering about the luminescent paradise. Ly, Hono'o-chan, and myself were not aware of it at first. Perhaps it was the oddly-placed globe-shaped fountain in the middle of the park in front of 6750, or maybe it was the old woman selling cigarettes perched on the stairs near Mercury Drug. But the moment we saw the first few fireworks go off in the middle of the deepening dark December evening sky, we heard it. Cries for freedom and a multitude of tiny voices screaming for release!

Had we a camera with us, the grim scene would have looked like this:


Suddenly, the globe-shaped fountain was no longer what it was. The glow from inside was actually an imprisoned faerie, desperately clinging for dear life! The old woman was no longer a common cigarette vendor, but a fairy matriarch, miserably watching her kin die from the evil machinations constructed by greedy corporations! The security guards were no longer actual human beings, but animated corpses controlled by talismans hidden amongst their bodies, enchanted by witches and warlocks from their secret base in the underground parking lots!

Ayala was no longer a Christmas paradise. It was a carefully-constructed and elaborate faerie torture chamber, disguised as malls and parks and the second happiest place on earth! Any faerie who survives the fireworks death trap is completely eliminated by specially-trained snipers, their magickal essence added to the breeding of other faeries and pixies, or sometimes bottled and sold in Rustan's as beauty products! Oh, the humanity!

Seven Songs

Of COURSE there are still aspects in my life completely drama-free. Like my lovey-dovey, for instance. And I owe him an apology for responding to his meme tag this late in the game. Seventeen days late, to be exact. I'll make it up to you, baby. :-P

•••
List seven songs you are into right now. No matter what the genre, whether they have words, or even if they're not any good, but they must be songs you're really enjoying now. Post these instructions in your journal along with your seven songs. Then tag seven other people to see what they're listening to. [Podi's Aside: And since I think it's boring if I just list seven songs, I'll include some lines from them too.]

Shikao Suga - 19sai
"You laced your lips with poison when you came into my room, didn't you?"

Kajiura Yuki - Witch
(One of the beautiful instrumental pieces used in the anime series Tsubasa Chronicle.)

Jewel - 1,000 Miles Away
"Your mind says, 'Sweetheart, you gotta stick around,' but your heart says, 'Oh, I'm too weak in the knees...'"

Damien Rice - Grey Room
"Nothing is lost, it's just frozen in frost. It's opening time and there's no one in line, but I've still got me to be your open door. I’ve still got me to be your sandy shore. I’ve still got me to cross your bridge in this storm. And I’ve still got me to keep you warm."

Idina Menzel & Kristin Chenoweth - Defying Gravity
"Too long I've been afraid of losing love -- I guess I've lost. Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a cost."

Rent OST - Without You
"The mind churns, the heart yearns, the tears dry without you. Life goes on but I'm gone, 'cause I die without you."

Kim Fabros - Sea
"Your body clings to me like waves flowing before sunrise. I am a fish satisfied, swimming in your mouth. Closed eyes. You are my sea."

Tagging: Aimee, Elmer, Gaye, Hono'o-chan, Mikey, Paul, Prinz.

When Fine Is Better Than Happy

January. That's a laugh. As long as the cosmos doesn't throw something completely unexpected on my lap, I might not have the inclination to go back to work at all. A friend and I were talking about it a week ago. I told him I had no such desire to "enrich" myself further. The second I said it however, I realized how jaded that must have sounded, so I told him it wasn't at all because I was jaded. Rather, it felt as if I've had my fill with what life has to teach me. (Apologies if it reeked of pompous arrogance...)

But it was my mother, unexpectedly, who finally jolted my sensibilities. This morning as I was rummaging the ref for leftovers, she asked me when I was going to have my hair cut. I said not soon. Then she asked me if I inquired about that Open University thing yet. I said not yet. Soon. Then she told me when my siblings have their own jobs, they won't be taking care of me, and did I know that. I said yes, I know.

A few more seconds of rearranging food in each compartment and I had to give up. I closed the ref and looked at my mother doing the laundry. She was beautiful, and I love her dearly. She'd raised a fine son, and I wanted to tell her I'm fine and I'm content with what I have -- and am -- now.

Now most of the times I underestimate her, but the thing is I know she'd know right away what I was saying. I could tell her I'm contented. I could tell her I'm fine. But she'd see through the lie, I know it in my heart. She'd know what I was saying was really, I want to quit while I'm ahead.

If I had the guts, I would have told her I'm sorry, but I have no ambition to drive me further. I have no dreams to cling to, and I have no idea when I stopped dreaming. I go through life drifting through the energy of the people around me but that's it. I am, and always have been, the cosmos' ragdoll. Free to be thrown around to whatever corner of the universe it sees fit. I'm not happy -- I realize it comes at a higher cost than I'm willing to dish out -- but I'm not sad either. Right now, I'm just fine. Exhausted, but fine. And I wanted to die.

I opened the ref again to resume my eternal quest for morning nourishment. Nope. I wouldn't say something like that to my mother.

When Words Fail

(Y!M Conversation, 11/18/2006 10:44:50 AM)

havelock maeterlinck (hindi tunay na pangalan): hindi ko kinaya
havelock maeterlinck: after that very inspirational first post
havelock maeterlinck: tignan mo sumunod

A Different Kind of Silence

I could never get used to it, walking into a room with only my father in. The pressure in the air would rapidly build up almost to the point of breaking with words left unsaid, left hanging through the years. If we were both any younger, we would have simply let all hell break loose. But after too many times of shame and regret boiling over in endless shouting matches, our father-son relationship had nowhere else to go but deep-dive into silent neutral corners on both sides of the battlefield. It was better off for everyone in the family, really. And that's the way things have been for the past couple of years or so.

When are you going back to work? I could almost hear him think. January, my head hummed a ready answer. I would be lying through my teeth if I said it, but it wouldn't matter as long as I had a response. I had just gone down for breakfast and he was by himself in the kitchen, smoking his morning cigarette and reading the day's paper. It could have been picture perfect, with the sun streaming through the windows and all that shit. Who could have known there was a thick silence real and alive as a monster breathing in that room.

"May sinangag pa dyan. Saka yung tira kagabi," ("There's rice. And some leftovers from last night,") he said, breaking the silence without looking up from his papers. I grunted an affirmative, regarded the table and confirmed that yes, there was indeed sinangag plus a bowl of reheated leftovers from last night, and left the kitchen without getting anything to eat.

Little Victories

Got home yesterday 5:00 PM after spending Sunday night at a friend's place somewhere down south. Was there for her daughter's birthday party -- which had a very odd turnout because most of the guests were grown-ups, and there were more alcohol present than a Saturday night open bar. Not that anyone dared complain, and the little girl seemed to have the best time among everyone present.

I enjoyed being there myself because of a couple of little victories I can be proud of ever since resigning from work:

First, I was able to commute from Makati to Sucat all by my lonesome without much of a fuss. I didn't even pay for the bus ride! The conductor apparently doesn't have change for P20, so he just asked for me to wait. We were already in front of SM Bicutan and I needed to get off the bus, but the conductor didn't make a move to stop me. So I stepped out with the crumpled P20 bill in my sweaty hand, free from any obligations. I took it as a good sign.

Second, I was able to sit through -- and quite possibly even enjoy -- the company of straight guys and their booze-induced conversations which, to be honest, more often than not I find too... rugged for me. Never mind that most of them were hot as fuck and I was willing to listen to even the most senseless man-drivel they get themselves into; they actually talked about pretty sensible stuff and -- surprise surprise -- things I found myself wanting to talk about as well.

For instance, some of them were unemployed, and I was like, Hallelujah, I am with kindred spirits! Most of my other friends either had a stable job, or are earning money in some way, or studying, or at least have an ambition to drive them -- I don't even have that -- and there I was with these guys talking about what it was like! The peaks and valleys and the jagged edges of our non-lives brewed and stewed in alcohol, sisig, and friendly banter. The best thing about it was they knew I was gay (unintentionally, and involving one little incident with a hotdog), and it didn't even bother them one bit. Or if it did, it wasn't at all apparent, which I appreciated muchly.

Anyway, the party mellowed down around 4:00 AM when people started going home. My friend insisted me and another friend stay over, and because we had no more energy to decline, we did. 10-ish we woke up, had lunch on leftovers, and watched a couple of DVDs before finally heading home.

On the bus ride, I was thinking how great it would have been if the only things I lived for were little victories and the company of friends. It would have been -- should have been -- enough. After all I'm doing fine, all things considered. But, well, I'm not there yet I suppose. The bus was careening on the highway barely stopping, and it seemed apt to pray for the universe to be patient with me. So I crossed my fingers, and I did.






____________________
PS: Damien Rice's new songs kept me company on the ride home. His music makes me weak in the knees. Well I held you like a lover // Happy hands and your elbow in the appropriate place // And we ignored our others, happy plans // For that delicate look upon your face // Our bodies moved and hardened // Hurting parts of your garden // with no room for a pardon // In a place where no one knows what we have done.

By The Window

Is there something beyond that grey wall outside your window, Podi? There used to be. Some time ago, there used to be a different house outside your window. It wasn't as tall and imposing as the one now, and it looked very old and very tired. But it was a house you and your window used to be able to talk to. It was a house you and your window used to love.

You and your window loved the same things -- the electric blue sky on many summer noons of your childhood, and the thick white clouds swirling lazily around it, like a living canopy holding an entire civilization of winged beings across the heavens. You used to tell each other stories what it would be like to live there, if it were any different from the world you're living in, or if it were the same.

You both loved how the same sky glimmered with stars at night, and how the Moon would rule over all, like a wise and ancient Matriarch watching its children in sacred slumber. You would both say good night at a different star each evening, and read to it a different book before you let it lull you to a dreamless sleep.

And there were the cats that lived in the broken, beaten-up black tire on the roof just outside your window. Getting home from school, you'd sit on the ledge and start talking with them (how familiar and comforting their smell would be to you), mewling and purring for minutes on end, telling them how your day went; how that one boy at school sat beside you in the library and asked about that book you were reading. The cats would sit in rapt attention, their faces in deep awe as if the secrets of the cosmos were about to be unlocked before their wide, mismatched, green/blue eyes. You wondered what the world would be like through a cat's eyes.

When it was raining, your windows would be watching you sketch. An elf, an angel, a fairy... but never finishing any of them. Always you would start out on the eyes, working your way through the face, then the hair (always long, always windswept), then the ears, down the neck, and then halfway through the body. By then it would be decided that you have fleshed out enough of this being's entire existence, and their half-life would be left undone on your sketchbook, their greyscale souls never fully realizing what it would be like to be alive.

Your window would be saddened at their tragic fate, and you would discover its ledges moistened with cold, cold tears. It was just the rainfall, you would think halfheartedly, and make a move to finally close it. Your wrists would strain on the friction of old wood dragging on old wood, but it was getting late, and the last thing you needed was to be awake, letting Mother Moon see how you made your window cry.

But now -- now, things were different. Waking up this morning, opening the window, I find that the old house was gone. The black tire with the cats was gone. The sky was no longer visible, and the winged people have flown to a different universe to haunt another alien boy's waking dreams. The ancient magic has left, and it took the love of my window for me along with it. There was nothing but a lifeless old wood, opening and closing to a grey wall with nothing beyond it.

It was infinitely silent, and there was no soul beating inside it, but I love it none the less. I rub the thick cake of sleep that managed to cling to my eyes during the evening, and stretch my senses awake. I sit on the ledge of my open window, and inhale the grey things of a new morning.

I will wait, I find myself thinking. My window has taught me something valuable, and that is there is always something to love. Even in this desolate grey, there is always something to love.