Twilight descended upon us. She said we can go.
I begged her to wait until it is completely dark. I said I find it difficult driving in this time of day when the light argues with the darkness.
She said I am like a dragon. Dragons can see well in the light of day and they can even see better in the dark of night. But their eyesight is at its weakest in the failing light.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Irresistible
It is 2AM Tuesday night and I am still wide awake. I can’t put this book down. Just a few pages more.
Reading Anita Shreve is one the best escapes one can have. An escape from the torments of this tragic world into another world that is demarcated by loss, longing and personal wreckage beyond the limits of the human spirit.
In Resistance, Shreve meticulously designs a romantic tragedy amidst the atrocious fabric of war. It is 1943 and Europe is in the height of devastation. In a Nazi-occupied Belgian village, an American bomber plane fell from the skies like a cursed gift from heaven. The pilot was rescued and sheltered by the wife of a resistance worker in the secret room of their house. An impossible bond unfolds as the wife and the pilot learns to feed off each other’s needs, both physical and spiritual. But this pure accidental relationship will soon be tainted with betrayal, desperation and the greater repercussions of war. While a doomed ending is inevitable, the reader will marvel at the sacrifices and secret pain that the characters endure.
In her signature fashion, Shreve punishes her readers in their search for the character’s redemption. Resistance is at its exquisite best when you realize that there are only a few pages left and still there are a thousand loose ends to the story. In the last ten pages, she scrupulously wraps it up but leaves a lot to the reader’s imagination. So you have the urge to haunt Shreve down and demand the details.
Taken lightly, Resistance tells the story of resistance workers in Belgium. In local history, they can be compared to the propagandistas of Rizal’s time. Taken deeply, Resistance is a test of courage and commitment. It is a search for hope in circumstances so terrible; for dignity in such disreputable times.
In this book, Shreve reiterates that she is an intelligent and skilled writer. She has mastered simplistic yet delicate prose that does not insult the readers. She knows how to plunge her characters in dilemma and let their spirit and frailty lift them up.
I have devoured four Shreve books so far and I can still remember each of them vividly. That’s how remarkable they are. It is only Fortune’s Rock that I can’t get past the first two chapters. Next on my reading list: Light On Snow.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Broken Strings
The glittering pages felt like a slap on my face. The exalting melody ended before it can even be sung. Like some faith that died before Jesus came. History tossed mercilessly under the rugs.
I can carry on being outside looking in. That is so excruciatingly normal for me. And I am used to getting less than what I put in. I am that stigmatized. Destiny has written my name in sand, erased by the ceaseless turn of the tide. But I swore to myself the sound of it will reverberate in echoes.
You can kick me off track with just a few words. But history and truth are on my side. I’m better than that and you may have the right and the excuse to act as you will. I will not play the fall guy anymore. The willing victim. The sacrificial blood has been drained from my veins not too long ago.
I turn to dust. The type that blindsights you in the eyes.
The heat that is alien to my skin awakens the dissident within. Yet I still play on broken strings.
***
I was there
When glory turned to pain
When sunshine turned to rain again
Shifting sands, changing times
I am a memory
***
Image courtesy of btk-queen on Flickr.
Fragments #3
PICKS OF THE MONTH
Here are twelve songs that are heating up the charts or will soon catapult to the top of the charts. Download now!
• Broken Strings (James Morrison feat. Nelly Furtado)
• Talk You Down (The Script)
• I Could Break Your Heart Any Day Of The Week (Mandy Moore)
• Northern Downpour (Panic At The Disco)
• Feel This (Bethany Joy Galleoti)
• Love and Sex and Magic (Ciara feat. Justin Timberlake)
• Make You Feel My Love (Adele)
• Antukin (Rico Blanco)
• Everybody Knows (John Legend)
• Thinking Of You (Katy Perry)
• Use Somebody (Kings of Leone)
• Smother Me (The Used)
***
AMERICAN IDOL TURNS BAD AND DANGEROUS
This week was my first time to watch the Final 13 of the current American Idol season. Although I have watched some of the city audition episodes and selection of the Final 36, I missed most of the episodes because of my hectic schedule. Hence, I know most of them only by face, not by name. Thank heavens for Wikipedia!
This week they featured the songs of Michael Jackson. For the record, I am not a fan of MJ as a person, more of his only his music. After all, that he is the world’s bestselling solo artist must mean something. The hundred millions of people who bought his albums can’t be wrong. He has an impressive musicology that shatters the walls of discrimination and bridges generation gaps.
While some of MJ’s songs are karaoke staples, I was shocked at how most of the contestants stumbled with his songs, even the familiar ones. I saw this happen also in last season’s Mariah Carey week. But that is understandable because of Carey’s range and the difficult rifts and intonations that have become her signature style. With MJ, his songs are proving to be as deceptive and as complicated as his personality. You thought it is simple until you get to sing it. Plus, like what the judges always point out, it is always risqué to sing the legends. You really have to outdo yourself because you will be inevitably compared. You have to bring your own style to the table to one-up the legends (think David Cook’s Always Be My Baby which has been over-killed by local radio).
For this week, the standout was Adam Lambert with his highly-charged version of Black Or White. He took the songs as his own and his stage presence is ever rousing. I also enjoyed Matt Giraud’s rendition of Human Nature, although I was thinking that he was borrowing heavily from Justin Timberlake’s falsetto-laden style of R&B (before Randy Jackson even pointed it out). His expression, lip movement and even his looks eerily mirrors Timberlake’s. But it does work. The third best will be Danny Gokey (the media-proclaimed frontrunner) with his performance of P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing).
The most appalling (ah-poll-ling as Simon Cowell would say it) performance belongs to that Indian guy. He takes Beat It and ruins it to the pulp (pun intended). His voice lacked the emotion needed by the song so there is certain disconnect with the false energy of his singing and his lifeless expression.
I already have my bets on who should end-up as the Final Two. But I won’t say it here because I have a history of jinxing my favourites. But it will be a showdown similar to Cook-Archuleta from last season. But this time both will rock (wink, wink).
***
GONE TOO SOON
Last week, local showbiz mourned the death of a local legend. I will be lying (or riding the bandwagon) if I will say that I am a big fan of Francis Magalona. But I have his music on my iPod. For me, his best piece is Kaleidoscope World with its searing yet simple lyrics and its striking sampling of The Beatle’s Here, There and Everywhere. And of course Cold Summer Nights, one of the best I-want-you-back songs.
Francis M will be best remembered for planting the seeds of rap in local music. And how he infused fervent nationalism and social commentary in his songs. Mga Kababayan Ko might probably be his most meaningful project, but the problem with that song is it became very periodic. It was pigeonholed in that era and lacks the timeless appeal of say, Kaleidoscope World. It seems corny if you sing it now, but it was the anthem during the height of its popularity.
Anyway, he had a life well-lived and left his legacy as THE master rapper (I wonder where that places Andrew E). The tributes were everywhere. Even MTV changed their logo as a sign of respect; they juxtaposed Francis M’s face shot in their logo.
***
FREAKY MONDAY
What to hear something eerie/freaky?
Last Monday, I had to prepare early for my flight to Cagayan De Oro. I was getting ready to leave Bulacan by 4AM. I dressed and put on my sports watch. Only to find out that it was dead, the face was blank. The battery probably conked out fast because of its pedometer feature.
I left my other watches in my pad in QC. So I decided to wear our corporate watch. It was my first time to wear it because it was only that weekend that I had its strap adjusted. I put it on. The hands were frozen, it was not moving.
The word omen crept into my thought but I hastily pushed it away.
After takeoff, I put my iPod on so I can zone out and sleep. I placed the playlist on shuffle. After three random songs, Kaleidoscope World came up. Images of Francis M lying on a casket. I quickly forwarded it to the next track. Cold Summer Nights. There is 2-in-2,358 chance that those two songs would play on shuffle…1-in-2,358 chance for it to come consecutively!!!
Halfway through the flight to CDO, the pilot announced that we need to do an emergency landing in Cebu. They did not say the reason, but obviously there was something that is compromising our safety. I remembered there was a weird, unwanted sound somewhere near the fuselage when we took off.
To cut the story short, it was an uneventful trip. Insert of sigh of relief here.
***
Comparisons are easily done
Once you had the taste of perfection
How do I get better once I had the best?
Here are twelve songs that are heating up the charts or will soon catapult to the top of the charts. Download now!
• Broken Strings (James Morrison feat. Nelly Furtado)
• Talk You Down (The Script)
• I Could Break Your Heart Any Day Of The Week (Mandy Moore)
• Northern Downpour (Panic At The Disco)
• Feel This (Bethany Joy Galleoti)
• Love and Sex and Magic (Ciara feat. Justin Timberlake)
• Make You Feel My Love (Adele)
• Antukin (Rico Blanco)
• Everybody Knows (John Legend)
• Thinking Of You (Katy Perry)
• Use Somebody (Kings of Leone)
• Smother Me (The Used)
***
AMERICAN IDOL TURNS BAD AND DANGEROUS
This week was my first time to watch the Final 13 of the current American Idol season. Although I have watched some of the city audition episodes and selection of the Final 36, I missed most of the episodes because of my hectic schedule. Hence, I know most of them only by face, not by name. Thank heavens for Wikipedia!
This week they featured the songs of Michael Jackson. For the record, I am not a fan of MJ as a person, more of his only his music. After all, that he is the world’s bestselling solo artist must mean something. The hundred millions of people who bought his albums can’t be wrong. He has an impressive musicology that shatters the walls of discrimination and bridges generation gaps.
While some of MJ’s songs are karaoke staples, I was shocked at how most of the contestants stumbled with his songs, even the familiar ones. I saw this happen also in last season’s Mariah Carey week. But that is understandable because of Carey’s range and the difficult rifts and intonations that have become her signature style. With MJ, his songs are proving to be as deceptive and as complicated as his personality. You thought it is simple until you get to sing it. Plus, like what the judges always point out, it is always risqué to sing the legends. You really have to outdo yourself because you will be inevitably compared. You have to bring your own style to the table to one-up the legends (think David Cook’s Always Be My Baby which has been over-killed by local radio).
For this week, the standout was Adam Lambert with his highly-charged version of Black Or White. He took the songs as his own and his stage presence is ever rousing. I also enjoyed Matt Giraud’s rendition of Human Nature, although I was thinking that he was borrowing heavily from Justin Timberlake’s falsetto-laden style of R&B (before Randy Jackson even pointed it out). His expression, lip movement and even his looks eerily mirrors Timberlake’s. But it does work. The third best will be Danny Gokey (the media-proclaimed frontrunner) with his performance of P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing).
The most appalling (ah-poll-ling as Simon Cowell would say it) performance belongs to that Indian guy. He takes Beat It and ruins it to the pulp (pun intended). His voice lacked the emotion needed by the song so there is certain disconnect with the false energy of his singing and his lifeless expression.
I already have my bets on who should end-up as the Final Two. But I won’t say it here because I have a history of jinxing my favourites. But it will be a showdown similar to Cook-Archuleta from last season. But this time both will rock (wink, wink).
***
GONE TOO SOON
Last week, local showbiz mourned the death of a local legend. I will be lying (or riding the bandwagon) if I will say that I am a big fan of Francis Magalona. But I have his music on my iPod. For me, his best piece is Kaleidoscope World with its searing yet simple lyrics and its striking sampling of The Beatle’s Here, There and Everywhere. And of course Cold Summer Nights, one of the best I-want-you-back songs.
Francis M will be best remembered for planting the seeds of rap in local music. And how he infused fervent nationalism and social commentary in his songs. Mga Kababayan Ko might probably be his most meaningful project, but the problem with that song is it became very periodic. It was pigeonholed in that era and lacks the timeless appeal of say, Kaleidoscope World. It seems corny if you sing it now, but it was the anthem during the height of its popularity.
Anyway, he had a life well-lived and left his legacy as THE master rapper (I wonder where that places Andrew E). The tributes were everywhere. Even MTV changed their logo as a sign of respect; they juxtaposed Francis M’s face shot in their logo.
***
FREAKY MONDAY
What to hear something eerie/freaky?
Last Monday, I had to prepare early for my flight to Cagayan De Oro. I was getting ready to leave Bulacan by 4AM. I dressed and put on my sports watch. Only to find out that it was dead, the face was blank. The battery probably conked out fast because of its pedometer feature.
I left my other watches in my pad in QC. So I decided to wear our corporate watch. It was my first time to wear it because it was only that weekend that I had its strap adjusted. I put it on. The hands were frozen, it was not moving.
The word omen crept into my thought but I hastily pushed it away.
After takeoff, I put my iPod on so I can zone out and sleep. I placed the playlist on shuffle. After three random songs, Kaleidoscope World came up. Images of Francis M lying on a casket. I quickly forwarded it to the next track. Cold Summer Nights. There is 2-in-2,358 chance that those two songs would play on shuffle…1-in-2,358 chance for it to come consecutively!!!
Halfway through the flight to CDO, the pilot announced that we need to do an emergency landing in Cebu. They did not say the reason, but obviously there was something that is compromising our safety. I remembered there was a weird, unwanted sound somewhere near the fuselage when we took off.
To cut the story short, it was an uneventful trip. Insert of sigh of relief here.
***
Comparisons are easily done
Once you had the taste of perfection
How do I get better once I had the best?
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Three Wishes
They say bad luck comes in threes. Well to balance things out, I’d say that good things also come in threes.
These past weeks, three of the people I treasure dearly celebrated their birthdays. I interact with two of them on a regular basis, even if the other one is miles away. The other one is a long-time friend since my “holy” elementary days.
This space will not be enough to express my appreciation and gratitude to this threesome. They have championed me in countless ways. I allowed them privy to my personal life but they never took it in a bad light. These are the people who hold on to what I am to them and not how I am perceived by other people. At the end of the day, they are the only people who matters to me.
In this life where you seldom meet enduringly great people, these three are definitely keepers. If I were to walk through life with just these people, I know I will be fine.
The Brother I Never Had
I am the eldest in a brood of four and my other two brothers are generations away, in age. Hence, I never had someone to talk to about things or guide me in my moments of weakness. Or someone who will tell me: “I have your back.”
He was my buddy from the first moment that I stepped into the halls of this corporate jungle. I can still remember how he patiently taught me to do excel worksheets during my first day. We instantly clicked coz we share the same passion in a lot of things: music, movies and madness (the good kind). From then on, he has been my run-to, even if we are now moving in different circles.
Two of my fondest moments with him include that out-of-town trip several years ago, with the old clique (before corporate pressure built the space between). And of course...our adventures and misadventures in a land far, far away. What an amazing race!
One of the best things about him is his unwavering principles. Like me, he gravitates towards what is true and what is right. Even if it meant going against the tide. He also has a deep understanding of human nature, something we also share mutually.
Above all, ours is a friendship that transcends the “P” world. And that says a lot. He has fought a lot of battles for me and with me. He has shown genuine support in all my decisions. He always understands my every move and shares in my every pain.
Bro, even if I want to spell it out here, I don’t need to. What you have done for me is beyond words. You know that you are the Simon who helps ease the cross that I bear. I am a better and stronger person because of you.
I wish that you will continue being the light for others. Happy birthday, B.
The Distant Best Friend
Hers is a solid friendship that crosses the distance. From the first moment I “met” her years ago, I was already at ease at her effortless companionship. I have always said that I have the talent for distinguishing if somebody will be worth my while. And her voice alone resonates with comfortable affection.
As the years dragged on, she became my distant best friend. Even if she is miles away, the warmth feels like she is just at arm’s length. She somehow knows when I am distressed, when I am happy. She has a staggering belief and trust in the person that I am.
In a world where realism is wrapped in self-preservation and fraud, she was breath of fresh air. Like with the aforementioned brother I never had, she was “real” to me, in the sense that she never played the “P” card. She is one of the few people who I allowed to enter my very personal space and the more she understood, the more she cared.
She was with us through the roller-coaster ride. She was caught in a personal crossfire, but she was brave enough to battle it out FOR us, not against each of us. She was with us through the laughter and through most of the disturbing silence. She was our sounding board because she will always listen and in the process will make sense of what we are going through.
For your birthday, I wish you wings and sky... and time to fly. I wish you a world that you can explore and that elusive happiness that will not depend on anything or anyone, but one that comes from within. I know you have it in you.
Happy birthday, M!
The Good Luck Girl
I have known her since I was transferred to that oh-so-religious school. She was one of the popular kids, being the daughter of one of the best English teachers. But it was only during our sixth grade that she moved into our circle. And we have stuck since then.
We fondly call her Jinx, because of all her bad luck and misadventures. But that was long ago. Now she is one fine lass and has fulfilled one of her dreams, to be a surgeon/doctor. She is now the resident jinx (LOL!)
We celebrated her birthday on the exact date (the first time this happened) coz thankfully she was not on duty. She told me how she was depressed the day before her birthday because one of her patients just died during surgery. And to think that they were just prepping him up for the surgery. It’s like he was gone before they can even do something. Add to that the finger-pointing on who should be responsible for the incident.
Lighten up! Don’t punish yourself too much. As I told you on our way home, things happen for a reason and there are things that are beyond our control. As cruel as it sounds, death maybe the blessing that your patient needs. As for your colleagues, they will always have something to say. Just do your work, do your best. They can never fault you for that.
For your birthday, I want you to make the most out of life. You were always and still remains the “safe” one. I know you had your share of misadventures but that doesn’t mean you will stop exploring. Experience LIFE.
Happy birthday, JA!
***
Photo courtesy of Photography_is_magic at flickr.
Sunday, March 01, 2009
The Value of Nothing
I sit still, mesmerized by the delicious silence of my own making. The blinding sunshine highlights the plethora of colors around me. But I shiver from the cool air; it seems like the weather is caught in a battle between hot and cold. Somewhere in the background, I hear the laughter and screams of people, the rickety sound of machinery and some sinister tinkling music.
For a split second, I was intoxicated by déjà vu. This was the same place. But somehow the memories are gone, pulled from the stratosphere and smashed by the gravity of my mistake. It seems so distant...in another life.
I allowed the frozen pictures of time to come rushing by. But no matter how hard I try, I could barely conjure it. The imagery is there but there is nothing to associate it with. Not even pain. Wisdom has silenced these emotions.
Sometimes I hear their voices but I don’t recognize it. They are lost in the cacophony of meaningless sounds. They have all drifted into that infamous obscurity.
The venom is out. I have found my new centre of adrenaline. They will never know me as something other than the luminary that I was polished to be. No glimpse of what lies beneath. It is something far beyond their comprehension anyway.
Deliverance is my breath. I wonder how they are feeling. How does it feel to be a sigh, a mere footnote?
***
Do you remember not long ago?
When we used to live for the moment
Cherish every impressive instant
Now we don’t live, we just exist
We run through our lives
Together, we are alone
I realize the value of nothing
And I learn where I have to be
Nowhere
Your help just hurts
Thorns on my side
So if you’d like to reach to me
Best leave me alone
***
Photo courtesy of Darwin Bell on flickr.
Friday Night Lights...Out
Since college, I have been a fan of Grisham and his battle-of-good-vs-evil law thrillers. Months ago, maybe a year even, I bought a Grisham book that was on sale; but it was only now that I picked it up from my “Must Read” stack. It was unusually thin for a Grisham novel, almost as thin as a Harlequin paperback. Then I realized it was also not his usual courtroom drama, for this time Grisham spins his story on the football field.
Bleachers is an all-American manly dramatic tale about football. The football hotshots of the small town of Messina journey back to their town to pay tribute to their coach who is in his deathbed. It has been fifteen years and Neely Crenshaw is caught up as the past collides with and the present. As they wait for the Coach to breathe his last, physically and emotionally tender stories were unearthed, dark secrets revealed. But one difficult question has to be answered...Did they love or hate Coach Eddie Rake?
I will summarize their answer this way: Legends become legend for a reason, or in this case, for many reasons. Love him or hate him, Coach Rake was an integral and revolutionary force in their lives.
I have always conceded that the greatest irony in life is when you realize the importance of a person when he is gone. Suffice to say, the most important people leave a void in our life that will never be filled. In contrast the forgettable people leave...without us even realizing it. Or maybe life was even better without them so their loss barely registers.
Grisham defines football games in such as way that you can actually hear the roar of the crowd, the collision of padded bodies and the abusive tongue-lashing. The story is so charged with testosterone that it becomes a stark contrast to the poignant moments in the end. Grisham uses a tone that bristles with simplicity and sincerity...it was so sincere that it actually hurts. If the burly men in the story wept, then the readers will have a difficult time fighting the inevitable tears. Remember... boys don’t cry, MEN do.
Another beauty of Bleachers is that it teases with subplots that were never fully explored. Like the political machinery of the school and the town, the racial discrimination and the evocative love story. They are just mentioned in passing but somehow each strikes a chord so that the reader ends up mulling over them. It seems like Grisham weaved some underlying agenda beneath the main story. And it does work.
Reading Bleachers revived some echoes of the past. As Neely recounts his glory days, you can’t help but wander into your own reverie. His story fuels your own burning middle-age self-scrutiny.
Long after the field lights are dimmed out, there are people whose very light will shine on indefinitely.
Bleachers is an all-American manly dramatic tale about football. The football hotshots of the small town of Messina journey back to their town to pay tribute to their coach who is in his deathbed. It has been fifteen years and Neely Crenshaw is caught up as the past collides with and the present. As they wait for the Coach to breathe his last, physically and emotionally tender stories were unearthed, dark secrets revealed. But one difficult question has to be answered...Did they love or hate Coach Eddie Rake?
I will summarize their answer this way: Legends become legend for a reason, or in this case, for many reasons. Love him or hate him, Coach Rake was an integral and revolutionary force in their lives.
I have always conceded that the greatest irony in life is when you realize the importance of a person when he is gone. Suffice to say, the most important people leave a void in our life that will never be filled. In contrast the forgettable people leave...without us even realizing it. Or maybe life was even better without them so their loss barely registers.
Grisham defines football games in such as way that you can actually hear the roar of the crowd, the collision of padded bodies and the abusive tongue-lashing. The story is so charged with testosterone that it becomes a stark contrast to the poignant moments in the end. Grisham uses a tone that bristles with simplicity and sincerity...it was so sincere that it actually hurts. If the burly men in the story wept, then the readers will have a difficult time fighting the inevitable tears. Remember... boys don’t cry, MEN do.
Another beauty of Bleachers is that it teases with subplots that were never fully explored. Like the political machinery of the school and the town, the racial discrimination and the evocative love story. They are just mentioned in passing but somehow each strikes a chord so that the reader ends up mulling over them. It seems like Grisham weaved some underlying agenda beneath the main story. And it does work.
Reading Bleachers revived some echoes of the past. As Neely recounts his glory days, you can’t help but wander into your own reverie. His story fuels your own burning middle-age self-scrutiny.
Long after the field lights are dimmed out, there are people whose very light will shine on indefinitely.
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