Everything fades into memories

There's nothing like the first real heartbreak. It burns like the cold, sending chills down your spine, paralyzing your senses. It pierces through your soul like a newly oiled sword, leaving you breathless and incapacitated. Something always has to remind you of something with someone somewhere. The random replay of memory of what was sends you into the twilight zone. It seems pointless, but it feels like it only happened yesterday. But one must move on. One must realize his or her worth. One must be free from the past.

Backlog Please

I hate the internet!

I have had unproductive weekends because of my addiction to the virtual world. I should probably be cursed for dragging myself into this kind of stagnation. I have a lot of interesting things to during weekends, but I still have not accomplished anything because of the internet. There are so many things on the internet that's why it's hard for me to get out in front of my computer most of the time. Ahhh! I am doomed.

I am in the doldrums. I need a fix. I certainly need something to remind me of the things that I really want to do. Hm. Perhaps this blog entry will remind me of that, ne? I need to do some reading and watching.

I am currently drowning in my books. But yeah, I am done with The Perks of Being a Wallflower long time ago. And I am currently in the middle of reading Kafka on the Shore and To Kill a Mockingbird. Yes, I read two (or more) books at once. My attention span needs rewiring.

Of course, I need to get back to DVD marathon. Dang! I lost my touch in this recently. Thus, I am keeping an eye on these DVDs. Hmm. Though I am done with Across the Universe and Janis, I still have a lot of movies/documentaries to catch up. Define backlog.

I am hoping that when I log on the internet, I will see this. So that I can remind myself to do something else other than lurking on the net and stalking people.

PDF first Before Books

I promised myself not to buy any book/s until I am done reading Sherlock Holmes Volume I and Volume 2, but then it is hard to control my impulse when it comes to books (though my addiction is nothing compared to Kristine Joy Valdez Patag, free exposure dude!)

Usually, I do research on what book I am most likely to read. On a normal basis, I just download a PDF version of the book or borrow it from a friend first. Then, if I find it to my liking, I will buy it. But recently, I tried buying some books without even doing my usual routines. So I found these

and bought them. A big mistake! I was disappointed at Once Again to Zelda. I had so much expectations on that book since the teaser was interesting and the cover was cool. When I bought that book, I thought that I would learn something that I would not be able to learn from the internet. But lo and behold! I saw Wikipedia as its source! As for the writing style, it is not praise-worthy. I think that some parts of it were plagiarized. I felt like I wasted my money on that copy. Nevertheless, it still looks good on my shelf.

As for the The Last Man Who Knew Everything, it is like reading an academic book. It is interesting, but it is boring. If you know what I mean. I cannot say much about this book though, since I am still in the middle of reading it. If I get past page 3, I will let you know. But for the meantime, I will pass it to my younger sister as her first reading material from me. While Bright Shiny Morning seems like a good read, but I have not opened the book yet so that remains to be judged soon.

I also bought To Kill a Mockingbird which is included in my reading list and Sexing the Cherry which is included in Tin's reading list. I thought of selling the latter to her since I just bought it out of whim and since it was on sale. (So please Tin, if you are reading this, I am selling you that book for only PHP99.00!)

I know I promised myself not to buy any book/s until I finish reading what I am supposed to read, but then seeing this book is urging me to break my promise (AGAIN!) I've already downloaded the PDF version (another addition to my reading list!) So I will just blind myself to death with a loooooong reading list to accomplish.

I should probably continue reading Sherlock Holmes now. Or else the list will just pile up.

Obliviate!

I will only admit it once: I am not really a fan of Harry Potter Series.

I know it is a modern classic already, but I am not really into it like any other people. I will not say sorry if it offended you that I am not as attached to it like any of you are. I have a read-and-forget attitude on books. Harry Potter is one of those books. I am not a fan, but I have read the whole series more than once (so let's make that twice.)

I have read (and watched!) it for one social reason--to relate to humanity. For one, reading/watching the whole series is like being updated to current events and not reading/watching it is equivalent to social suicide. That's common sense, I guess. It is a fad just like The Beatles during the 60s. It is a mania, and everybody and every single soul of this generation knows it. And not knowing will receive a reaction equivalent to "What era did you come from, dumb ass?"

I read it back when I was in high school. I remember that I still have to borrow the books from my friends in order for me to read it, because I had no intention of keeping them on my book shelves for the rest of my life (the dumbest excuse I could muster for being so broke) and because I really do not know who is Harry Potter (just like how I do not know 3D stereogram or Venus Raj.) So you see, I was not really updated with a lot of things back then (well, up until now I guess.) Most of the time, I was clueless of what my high school batch mates were gushing about. They were often saying unintelligible words that only they could understand. It was like they were speaking a different language from mine. I could not understand them. I could not relate. I always come home asking myself, "What is expelliarmus? Is it even included in the dictionary?" because my classmates often said that when they did not want to stand up and get their things. Only when I have read the books that I came to know the language they were playing. Then, I started to get in touch with the world they were living.

It must have been social pressure that led me to read and to watch the series, but for most part of it I was willing to. I am not a fan for the reason that I haven't memorized all the spells and characters and details in the series. I am not a fan, because I do not have the whole series of books. I am not a fan, because I can sleep at night without dreaming about my life in Hogwarts. I am not fan just because. I could list a lot of (petty) reasons as to why I am not a fan of Harry Potter, but doing so will just overkill and later on defeat the purpose. I am not a fan, but I do not dislike it. Actually, I enjoyed reading it. And maybe I will read the series again three or four years from now just to get a different perspective on why many people love it like I love Pride and Prejudice. Maybe then I will become a fan.

But for now, I will just stare at this set of Harry Potter series and drool. They are lovely. This picture is encouraging me to buy a copy of each book. A complete set will look good on my (future mini-) library of classics. Hmm. What do you think?

I am getting inconsistent with my previous statements. This picture is just pure awesomeness. Or maybe it has something to do with that Beatle figurine (or is it a Beatle?)

"High with Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds"

Let's chase the words before they slip away.

Nobody reads my blog entries except from some friends (three friends to be exact). It is not always that they read it, because my compositions can get wordy and dull and because they have no time. That's just fine with me. I prefer it that way.

I write for the sake of writing, not for popularity. I write for myself. I write for the sake of my sanity. I write to exorcise the demon in me. I write to let my mind relax, because I tend to over analyze things. I write, because I am not much of a good speaker. I stutter a lot, and it is only through writing that I get my message across people. I write, because I have a problem with pronunciation, and it is only through words that I get to be sensible. I write for the betterment of myself. I write without intending to be popular. I write just because.

Writing is solitary for me. My thoughts and words are my entirety. So I like it when only few people read what I write. Perhaps you are wondering why I keep an online journal like this if I prefer few people would know what I write. It is as simple as the fact that there's nothing wrong in coping with technology and stuff. I'd like to see one day what I wrote. The old school writing (pen-and-paper) has more soul. I concede to that. But even papers and ink can get washed away by time.

However, you must not think that I have not thought of publishing my first book. Much as I like to have a fewer readers, I'd love to have my writings be published. I'd like to remain anonymous yet known to some. At least. Actually, I have taken much time to think about my first published book.

My first published book will start with "I saw Death." and will end with ""It was my death." or something like that. It will have 300 pages, but no other words will be written aside from the beginning and the end. The "middle" pages will remain blank. That's how I've thought of it. Then, it will become a movie of some sort. Its movie adaptation will be a 2-hour show with nothing but the narration of the starting sentence and the end thought. In short, my first published book will be a two-liner book. Just like that.

Or I do not know. It is still early to tell anyway.

In Between Dreams and Realities

I am broke. Yeah, but who cares? I still have my books with me. I could live with that.

I am not much of a materialistic person. I don't buy anything that I don't need. My only vices are books, books, books, beer, books, beer, and books. So I think I could pass as a thrifty (bordering to kuripot) person. It might be because I was brought up to be a wise spender and to work hard for something that I want. Like really work hard. In its truest sense. Reward system has not been used to me when I was a kid, that's why I have to earn my keep. Being brought up like that is something that differentiate me from my siblings. Through that, I learned how to be wise with money and to invest on things that would later pay off. I learned to spend within my means, so to speak. The only downside is that I feel guilty sometimes when I splurge over my vices (stated above). My mom would always tell me that it's okay to buy things that I WANT, because I worked hard for it, and that I deserve it. I feel less guilty whenever she says that.

That's why I splurged on... (drum roll please!)

(The book that I have been lusting for four years!)

and...

(The book that has been on my reading list for four or so months)

I am still not done in reading Sherlock Holmes though. AND I AM STILL NOT DONE COMPLETING THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA (but I am almost done reading the series). Hello, Prince Caspian and The Horse and His Boy, where art thou? I wish I could get my hands on you next pay day!

It has long been my practice, in times of great joy or emotional distress, to escape into the comfort of my imagination.

-Charlotte Bronte, The Secret Diaries of Charlotte Bronte