I’m over there.

So, I’ve moved again. To another wordpress blog:¬†http://tryingtoslowtherain.wordpress.com.

Mysilversprings was a great space for the last half of my undergraduate studies. Unfortunately, I feel that it was not a “good blog.” Tryingtoslowtherain will be a better one.

Thanks everyone for the thousand views here. Follow me over at my new space if you want! ūüôā


Bull’s Eye.

So I took an online psych test to determine whether I’m a hedonist, rationalist, idealist, or traditionalist. I’ve taken something like it before so I wasn’t surprised when it told me I am an idealist. The site also shared information on the idealistic person’s qualities, which were so accurate I felt like I was enumerating my traits. Apparently, an idealist is…

Alienated, bashful, critical, depressed, fussy, hard to please, insecure, introvert, loner, moody, negative attitude, pessimistic, revengeful, resentful, too sensitive, skeptical, suspicious, unforgiving, unpopular, withdrawn

The only thing I found a bit out of place was the term “revengeful.” Am I? I’ve no idea. A part of me thinks I’m not, but how can we be sure? I’ve kind of been wondering about this lately. On Revenge’s discussion board on IMDb, one user asked–if we were in Amanda/Emily’s position, would we forgive or seek revenge?

I found myself unable to answer.

A Double Life.

Scene from The Double Life of Vernonique (1991) [photo from Tumblr]

I have a feeling that I’ve thought about the possibility of a “double life” before, but until I saw this film, my ideas were never clear.

There is one scene in particular which I loved, and it may have been the most important. It’s when Weronika sees Veronique from a distance and is mystified by their obvious symmetry (see screencap above).

During this scene, Weronika stares at the other woman with a stab of wonder at what seems to be impossible. Yet, owing to a mixture of odd feelings she had shared to her father many scenes earlier (“I feel that I am not alone in the world.”), she knows that she is not making insane speculations.

As Weronika follows Veronique’s movements with her eyes, I plead with her to move her limbs and follow the woman physically. Would you, if if you were to see someone who seemed to be an exact replica of you, be so curious enough to follow that person–just to observe, close up, how that other person differs from you?¬†I keep thinking it’s what I would do. Examine the coordinates of our moles, check for birthmarks and scars, pitch of voice, shape of eyes… But then again, it might be terrifying, seeing a¬†thinking entity¬†who may have just stepped out of your mirror¬†impersonating your gait and mannerisms. So, I reconsider and posit that perhaps Weronika’s reaction was sensible (although she hardly seemed to be daunted by her walking, smiling, other). She left it a mystery half-solved, to be thrust in a drawer, never to be opened again. Perhaps nothing is to be gained by acquainting with one’s “double,” (if there were such a thing) and the two worlds are best left alone. It is a sad thought, I think. It would be exciting–at least for the film–if they had really met. What would happen then, especially if we consider the idea that they are not supposed to meet? Would the world be in chaos because of a chance encounter?

From this I gather that Kieslowski is a smart fellow to play with our minds and make us see things we never saw before. I didn’t appreciate the movie that much right after I saw it, but now I feel its magic, although belated, circulating in my system.

The¬†Double Life of Vernonique¬†may not appeal to everyone, or immediately, such as in my case, but it is art in a great form.¬†[That being said, I do not think¬†Amelie¬†(2001), which people on IMDb keep comparing it to, is lesser of an art just because it appeals to a wider audience. In fact, I find it atrocious to even think of comparing these films and concluding that because one is about love–a force that hooks a vast majority of viewers–it pales beside the deeper, “darker” film. I loved both films and think that this feat is pointless.]

loving ME.

I’m PROUD of who I am. Proud of my roots, my culture, my choices. Being a Filipina and growing up with the ideals that I have. Honoring the opportunity to influence young students and instill some knowledge in their media-centric brains (by which, I mean that they focus too much on various media to the point that it shapes who they are)… For the first time in a long while, I can truly say that I LOVE myself.

Tonight Shamcey Supsup boosted my pride as a Filipino because she had a smart answer in the Q&A portion of Ms. Universe. She couldn’t please everyone with her answer (some people over-analyzed it) but she said it so well–she was articulate and sincere. She had conviction. She didn’t masquerade herself with an answer that everyone expects at contests like these; she stayed true to herself, something I admire even more than her artistic and academic skills. In an interview after the show, she said that maybe now, after her victory, people will treat her differently because she achieved something big, but her personality won’t change. She will still stay the same person she’s always been. I don’t know why this struck me so much, but I respect her for saying that. I believe in it; I won’t change for anything either, because I am ME, and I SHOULD be happy with who I am.

That the Ms. Universe show made me realize all this just goes to show that beauty contests per se are not wrong in that they promote a certain image of beauty. You actually learn a lot by watching it, like the politics of it and the different countries in the world (which can even get you thinking why there are some well-known countries that are not part of the event). It makes you analyze/examine/reflect on your lack of/presence of nationalism. It makes you THINK, in short. And for me, tonight, it made me whole as a person. As a woman. Because Shamcey, if not all the contestants, reminded me that I AM A WOMAN, an intelligent human being capable of doing some good in the world with what I know and with what others don’t know. I AM A WOMAN and I have beliefs, principles, and perspectives of different things that may affect how things run. I am a WOMAN and I am powerful.

I am happy with who I am–happy and wise enough to know that if I truly love myself, what others think of me should not matter. I am who I am and I don’t need to please other people. Likewise, it doesn’t matter if others surpass me in skill, intelligence, kindness, etc. as long as I respect and love myself and just do the best I can in the world.

I am so proud of myself, because I finally learned to love myself. It’s something we should all learn to do and shout out loud:¬†I LOVE MYSELF!!!

My subconscious is messed up.

I dreamt that I met Ayn Rand.

The version of “me” in the dream was very excited upon learning that the famous novelist/philosopher was in our home. I told her I owned one of her books–The Fountainhead, centennial edition–and that my dad was a big fan who had ancient copies of The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, as well as two books about her life and works. ¬†I told her she had to sign my book; it would be an honor and the book would be my most valued possession from this day forward.

Then I said, “I haven’t actually finished reading your book… I will, soon, though.” I was a bit ashamed. The first writer I ever met and I hadn’t even finished her book.

She never talked in my dream. Just sort of stared at me in wonder. Her short white hair, and kind eyes were all I remembered.

I didn’t get her to sign my book. I’d left it on the corner of a table, and for some reason I was suddenly busy. When I saw it again she’d already left. I felt crushed.

Guilty as charged.

Listening to Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman by Bryan Adams is one of my guilty pleasures.

I’ve known the song my entire life but it was only recently that I learned to appreciated it. Arnel Pineda sang it at a pageant once and I just fell in love with the lyrics. He even sounded like Bryan Adams when he was singing (Marami pala siyang kaboses, ha ha.)

The song is also a soundtrack to the film Don Juan DeMarco, starring Johnny Depp. I haven’t watched it yet but judging by the looks of the trailer, including this song in the film was apt.

Anywhere but here.

I’ve been watching a bunch of post-college movies since I graduated (e.g., Post-Grad, St. Elmo’s Fire, and Reality Bites), and the culture abroad seems to have rubbed off on me; I wish I could move out of here already and live my own life. Have a job I really want. Dine at various places and never go hungry at night because I didn’t like what was for dinner. Pick out and buy clothes, shoes, and bags without some family member nagging me to hurry up or select something else ’cause either my weird taste is showing or the item is expensive. Play my music on loud speakers and not worry about any filial character commenting on how he or she does not like the current song playing.¬†I honestly have deep regard for the fact that Asians are more family-oriented than Westerners, but there are times like these when I can’t help wishing I were anywhere but here.

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