Film School
Well so far New York, London, Seattle and Vancouver look tempting. But then again, tempting might not be the word to use, because temptation would imply an accessible sin depending on choice. And that's just not the case. I need to shelf out a quarter million just for a semester! oooh boy. If I had that much money in the first place, well...I'd teach myself film, hehe...with money to spare to see the world and back...with a hot date! haha...or not.
*sigh
I really want to go to film school, or at least get to shoot films. It's what I enjoyed doing most for the past 3 years here in college. Actually, it's not something I want to be cast in stone. It's just that I don't really know what to expect after I graduate. Not that I'm anxious about it, and planning ahead isn't really my style, but somehow I feel like there's something about life I should be really sure about by now.
Oh well, I really should be just worrying about thesis right now...:)
....
Ever caught yourself in a moment where you find someone changing right before your eyes? The time when things change then people change, and you find yourself in that moment.
You want to tell them something. But there are no words for it. No wisdom to warrant it. No courage to enable it. Something’s going away, drifting apart, with or without your goodbye.
They’re still there. Sometimes they’re right there just in front of you. But you miss them already.
I’ve had one too many of those moments. And when you have too many of those moments, it makes you think of not so nice thoughts about this life, or of this world for that matter.
....
"There are two ways to slide easily through life: to believe everything or to doubt everything; both ways save us from thinking."-Alfred Korzybski
There has always been something in silence that seduced me. The quiet things somehow seem more moving, more potent. So much stays in the realm of the unsaid, and after everything else, still so much would remain when we could say all that we can.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Sunday, September 30, 2007
JULY, 5 YEARS AGO
It was a Saturday, and I was caught by the sound of beautiful music from a violin. I traced it to the chapel to find out there was a wedding, a simple one, yet oddly it seemed more romantic to me. Just a few people, probably just the relatives and the closest of friends, and of course the priest and the solo violinist. The music was really nice and it tugged at my insides. It's been a while since I've been in a church. I realize that I miss God so much and that I really need Him in my messed up life. I wondered how and why we have to go through so much garbage in this life. I consider myself a rather simple man. The simplest things could make me happy. So many thoughts passed through my head...of love, of loss, of failure, of need, and of absence...it drove me to tears...good thing there weren't too many people on my side of the chapel.
I also got to think of weddings and of true love. It must feel great to truly find someone to be with. Someone to believe in, someone meant for you and vice versa. On my wedding day...(to much sap that it would be a crime to continue:p)
....
"However mean your life is, meet it and live it: do not shun it and call it hard names. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Things do not change, we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts."
-Henry David Thoreau
It was a Saturday, and I was caught by the sound of beautiful music from a violin. I traced it to the chapel to find out there was a wedding, a simple one, yet oddly it seemed more romantic to me. Just a few people, probably just the relatives and the closest of friends, and of course the priest and the solo violinist. The music was really nice and it tugged at my insides. It's been a while since I've been in a church. I realize that I miss God so much and that I really need Him in my messed up life. I wondered how and why we have to go through so much garbage in this life. I consider myself a rather simple man. The simplest things could make me happy. So many thoughts passed through my head...of love, of loss, of failure, of need, and of absence...it drove me to tears...good thing there weren't too many people on my side of the chapel.
I also got to think of weddings and of true love. It must feel great to truly find someone to be with. Someone to believe in, someone meant for you and vice versa. On my wedding day...(to much sap that it would be a crime to continue:p)
....
"However mean your life is, meet it and live it: do not shun it and call it hard names. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb, like sage. Do not trouble yourself much to get new things, whether clothes or friends. Things do not change, we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts."
-Henry David Thoreau
Saturday, September 29, 2007
One Less
It was in the summer, after my 3rd year of high school that Manang Pabing told me she was afraid of dying. It was 5 in the morning as I was getting ready with my packed lunch for CAT training. Thinking about it now, I can remember just how much sadness and fear there was in her voice. She said it like it was something that escaped her thoughts unintentionally. Like it was some kind information she didn't know what to do with. Like it was a secret she had to share, and she chose to share it with me. I kinda laughed and said she'd be okay, not thinking much of her confession. I left for school and she didn't say anything more.
In our house, we were raised to be respectful to the people(just 2 actually) who served our household. In fact, we even considered them to be part of the family. And for my part, I was rather close to them, and probably was the closest to them than any of my other siblings. And I guess that sort of thing happens when both parents have work If you've seen The Nanny and Mr. Belvedere, then that's basically the picture.
I heard, over the course of my CAT training that Manang Pabing went to the hospital for a check-up, and 2 weeks later, on Bivouac night, my two eldest brothers come visit the camp to tell me she had passed away.
I felt my insides shutdown. My brain no longer cared to process much of anything after that. 2 weeks. She was fine. No one knew anything was wrong. Nobody told me that when she went to the hospital, it was serious. Why didn't anyone tell me? Wait. She knew. She told me. 2 weeks before anyone had a guess. Before any of the doctors found out what was wrong, before the family had a clue, before the hospital, she knew she was dying. And she was afraid. And she told me. And I brushed her off.
After the weekend training, I was able to see her just before they took her out of Cebu. It looked like she was just sleeping. But I knew that she was gone. It was weird that at that moment, I realized there wasn't anyone in the house I could scare with rubber snakes and spiders anymore. Or maybe it's because it was one of those few moments that really made her laugh afterwards.
I would have wanted to say goodbye properly. I wanted so much to thank her properly. I've often wondered how one person can devote so much of themselves to a family that was not their own, but understanding was not a requirement for my gratitude. But more than anything, I would have wanted another chance to be there for her. She was afraid, and I was being callous. I would have wanted the chance to tell her, that humble as her life was, she was important to me. That she was appreciated. That she was family to me. That I will miss her.
I'm sorry I never got to tell you all those things. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry. You are missed.
....
"I shall tell you a great secret my friend. Do not wait for the last judgement, it takes place every day." -Albert Camus
It was in the summer, after my 3rd year of high school that Manang Pabing told me she was afraid of dying. It was 5 in the morning as I was getting ready with my packed lunch for CAT training. Thinking about it now, I can remember just how much sadness and fear there was in her voice. She said it like it was something that escaped her thoughts unintentionally. Like it was some kind information she didn't know what to do with. Like it was a secret she had to share, and she chose to share it with me. I kinda laughed and said she'd be okay, not thinking much of her confession. I left for school and she didn't say anything more.
In our house, we were raised to be respectful to the people(just 2 actually) who served our household. In fact, we even considered them to be part of the family. And for my part, I was rather close to them, and probably was the closest to them than any of my other siblings. And I guess that sort of thing happens when both parents have work If you've seen The Nanny and Mr. Belvedere, then that's basically the picture.
I heard, over the course of my CAT training that Manang Pabing went to the hospital for a check-up, and 2 weeks later, on Bivouac night, my two eldest brothers come visit the camp to tell me she had passed away.
I felt my insides shutdown. My brain no longer cared to process much of anything after that. 2 weeks. She was fine. No one knew anything was wrong. Nobody told me that when she went to the hospital, it was serious. Why didn't anyone tell me? Wait. She knew. She told me. 2 weeks before anyone had a guess. Before any of the doctors found out what was wrong, before the family had a clue, before the hospital, she knew she was dying. And she was afraid. And she told me. And I brushed her off.
After the weekend training, I was able to see her just before they took her out of Cebu. It looked like she was just sleeping. But I knew that she was gone. It was weird that at that moment, I realized there wasn't anyone in the house I could scare with rubber snakes and spiders anymore. Or maybe it's because it was one of those few moments that really made her laugh afterwards.
I would have wanted to say goodbye properly. I wanted so much to thank her properly. I've often wondered how one person can devote so much of themselves to a family that was not their own, but understanding was not a requirement for my gratitude. But more than anything, I would have wanted another chance to be there for her. She was afraid, and I was being callous. I would have wanted the chance to tell her, that humble as her life was, she was important to me. That she was appreciated. That she was family to me. That I will miss her.
I'm sorry I never got to tell you all those things. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry. You are missed.
....
"I shall tell you a great secret my friend. Do not wait for the last judgement, it takes place every day." -Albert Camus