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For freedom, for money, for love
Oct. 4th, 2009 04:02 amSo many insist upon seizing the day and making the most of everything, but then again, the seizure is to accumulate a bountiful pile of memories, monies, friends, gizmos and stuff that cannot, for the life of us, be taken with us when the lights are cut off for good. This life is one of hoarding, like it or not, and it's about gaining and gaining and property and finding the most blissful honey in our strivings for such things. All in the name of gain. We try to be good people or powerful people and we try to fill our bodies and portfolios up with streams of value all with the disbelieving notion that we won't be able to take it with us when we go. Though, we've all seen those caskets get lowered into the ground. They don't come back hours after the ceremony and pump those wooden boxes full of all of the things and intangibles we've acquired. Perhaps the object of the insatiable work ethic of our souls to not be shortchanged and of our hearts to be mothered and of our pockets/homes to be teeming with our collections is to make all of it so impenetrable, so vaporous and so vivid that they won't have to be carried with us. They will invite themselves into the darkened and tight quarters with our fleeing spirits and our embalmed carcasses with the rosary or whatever we clutch in our waxy fingered hands.
Shit, I wish I wrote that. But that's Sean Moller care of Daytrotter, reviewing Dark Dark Dark's session. Do yourselves a favor and download this particular session, listen to the gem that is Wild Goose Chase. If you don't know what Daytrotter is, well, you're missing half of your life! Off to the noose because you might as well be dead! (But seriously, Daytrotter sessions are golden. I can't survive a week without a new one.)
And no, I'm not feeling particularly cheerful. Will come back and write cheery stuff when it occurs to me.
PS: I'm alive. The storm that ravaged the Philippines, Ondoy aka Ketsana, was a nightmare, I was stuck at Kim's place in QC because we were finalizing our pre-production for thesis when the storm hit. It was unfortunate, Kim's house is right beside Marikina river, which ended up overflowing, becoming a veritable death machine, washing and ravaging everything in its path. The house's first floor was flooded. We ended up taking in refugees, who crossed over with a rope. Imagine, babies and children in the flood, some separated from their mothers. I won't ever get their pitiful (or was it disdainful? sad? shell-shocked? unfocused?) eyes out of my head as I was toweling them down, trying to keep them warm, and getting them into dry clothes. It's been a crazy week here in Manila.
How do we even begin to mend?
PPS: And I can't get over the fact that there are classes on Monday. I don't know how to get back on my feet, emotionally speaking. I think everything is piling up on me, like all that happened the last few months blew up on my face this past week. It was definitely those eyes. I never knew that the eyes of children could haunt me so much... I feel guilt, sure. I remember what happened last month. Of course. But more than that, it's the derangement that stems from trying to wrestle sleep out of my perpetually awake mind every single night. It's a taxing disability that somehow finds it way to my emotions...and unhinges them. Like I don't feel human anymore, like I'm just a wraith with no odor or substance or depth, in a dimension where time doesn't matter. Perhaps I feel more out of sorts than I have to be, but if you'll take my unflinching honesty--which I'll dole out whether solicited or not--the whole ordeal makes me depressed. To think that I have to direct and finish our film thesis in the next few months, and finally graduate. Where do I cull the fucking will to get through that, tell me? It seems the hardest during the last stretch, it always does.
TELL ME HOW TO HANDLE THIS? I'm supposed to be more adult-like now that I'm 21, right?
Shit, I wish I wrote that. But that's Sean Moller care of Daytrotter, reviewing Dark Dark Dark's session. Do yourselves a favor and download this particular session, listen to the gem that is Wild Goose Chase. If you don't know what Daytrotter is, well, you're missing half of your life! Off to the noose because you might as well be dead! (But seriously, Daytrotter sessions are golden. I can't survive a week without a new one.)
And no, I'm not feeling particularly cheerful. Will come back and write cheery stuff when it occurs to me.
PS: I'm alive. The storm that ravaged the Philippines, Ondoy aka Ketsana, was a nightmare, I was stuck at Kim's place in QC because we were finalizing our pre-production for thesis when the storm hit. It was unfortunate, Kim's house is right beside Marikina river, which ended up overflowing, becoming a veritable death machine, washing and ravaging everything in its path. The house's first floor was flooded. We ended up taking in refugees, who crossed over with a rope. Imagine, babies and children in the flood, some separated from their mothers. I won't ever get their pitiful (or was it disdainful? sad? shell-shocked? unfocused?) eyes out of my head as I was toweling them down, trying to keep them warm, and getting them into dry clothes. It's been a crazy week here in Manila.
How do we even begin to mend?
PPS: And I can't get over the fact that there are classes on Monday. I don't know how to get back on my feet, emotionally speaking. I think everything is piling up on me, like all that happened the last few months blew up on my face this past week. It was definitely those eyes. I never knew that the eyes of children could haunt me so much... I feel guilt, sure. I remember what happened last month. Of course. But more than that, it's the derangement that stems from trying to wrestle sleep out of my perpetually awake mind every single night. It's a taxing disability that somehow finds it way to my emotions...and unhinges them. Like I don't feel human anymore, like I'm just a wraith with no odor or substance or depth, in a dimension where time doesn't matter. Perhaps I feel more out of sorts than I have to be, but if you'll take my unflinching honesty--which I'll dole out whether solicited or not--the whole ordeal makes me depressed. To think that I have to direct and finish our film thesis in the next few months, and finally graduate. Where do I cull the fucking will to get through that, tell me? It seems the hardest during the last stretch, it always does.
TELL ME HOW TO HANDLE THIS? I'm supposed to be more adult-like now that I'm 21, right?
I can't deal.
