HAWHAWHAW.XD (That's laughing sardonically in pain.XD) Hum. Haven't blogged in, err, a week.o_0 Let me explain: The trickster-hypocrite-charlatan Joshua Chua filched my laptop, mobile phone, and wallet containing all my lucre and identification cards. Succinctly, I wound up incommunicado and incognito from both the cyberspace and the real world, not to mention the oblivion as I temporarily had no identity to support the proof of my existence. Hence, the blotter report. The goddamn fucking unconscionable IDIOT. BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRGHHHHHH. I know, the petty theft had come and gone as if by a whip of a bizarre monsoon wet and airy fart that hurled me into a roller coaster ride to hell and back. This is what it means to be emotionally repressed, see, my recoil reaction takes about a week to process.XP Slap me now, and it'll only sink in after a week. But give me a sugary mass of swallowable bolus, my hormones shall instantly lunge into a cyclone of estrogen. Mentally, that. It always don't look it for my body is unresponsive to the dictates of my brain.

Crying is a futile action; worry, hate, anger, guilt--useless emotions. What's been done is done; time is irreversible, while feelings can rather be manipulated. The second I realized my pad had been sacked, I didn't undergo a spasmodic fit of hysterical rage. Rather, I just prostrated in my bed, palms interlocked beneath my head, as I stared blankly at the ceiling. It had a liberating effect: I had nothing to do, nobody to think about, no identity to wrestle over (my destiny, my purpose in life, the whole soul-searching philosophical nine yards). I was paralyzed in a moment of blissful serenity. I was detached; I was FREE.

But the whole week has begone, the memory lapsed and recoiled into the motor reaction in my brain and all I can think about is ARSON--burning his fucking apartment down into a smoldering rubble of embers and ash. BLOODY FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!X0 I'm gonna fucking hunt you down you cretinous megafarcical assfuck!X0

Hemhem. We kicked one of our housemates out of the pad.XD I should be undergoing remorse right about fucking now, but I'm a guiltless mother. She deserves it, and anyone who deserves shame ain't worth the pity. Sucks to you; kiss my asscrack for all I care.

I could be delusional; my physical reality is a rotten dimension different from my mental reality. Say thoughts create our reality, then later, reality our thoughts. Whichever comes first in this chicken-and-egg circular cause and consequence paradox, I have no idea. In fact, I have no idea what I'm talking about.XP Weeeeeyyyyytaminit, I was rambling about the delusional crapola. Yes, I am delusional: I am Potential Energy Personified which shall one day gain momentum and turn into the Paragon of Philippine Literature National Artist.XP But that's not what I was supposed to be typing about. This housemate of ours, see, she's mental.XP I am mental, and so is my other housemate, but this GIRL is completely DETACHED from her sense of reality. Call me an ungrateful wretch, but I rest my case. I had wrestled with myself and repressed my fingers from typing my loathing to this person and publishing it in this blog--it was a gamut of ridiculous anecdotes that could give anyone stomachaches and knee-slapping laughs rolling on the floor. Now, to metathoughts of higher consciousness that require the popping of capillaries in my brain: what to do for the rest of the night.

I am bored. Perhaps I'll just piffle about the impressively sensational jaw-slacking mental-popper I-wish-I-could've-written-this-shit type of films I've seen lately. In no particular order:

1. Amelie otherwise entitled as Le Fabuleux Destin d'Amélie Poulain or "The Fabulous Destiny of Amélie Poulain". I am not going into a synoptic tirade about its plot for I have a short-term memory span of a kangaroo, but it's about a highly imaginative introvert named Amelie who works in a French cafeteria while surreptitiously granting the dreams of those around her. She puts her father's garden gnome into a trip abroad by sending him pictures of the gnome from different magnificent tourist settings in Europe; she secretly returns a metal box of a little boy's artifacts (marbles, miniature bike, photos, etc.) to its owner and sending him into memory-flooding tears; she cracks the mysterious identity of the photobooth addict who turns out to be the photobooth operator; she helps a blind man cross a street and rapidly narrates into his ear all the wondrous sights in that street; et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. This movie is a box of chocolate for the soul, if you even have one, for which I don't.XD Teeeee.XD

2. Perfume, a cinematic adaptation of my most favorite book Perfume by Patrick Süskind. How do you turn an olfactive book into visual cinematography? When we're mostly accustomed to read and picture the scenes of a storyline by which they are described by the sense of sight, hearing, touch, this movie practically restrains that wont and harbors onto the very overlooked sense of smell. Yes smell. The novel and film reek of scenes from Paris, with a protagonist named Jean-Baptiste Grenouille, a subfusc man born with the absolute olfactive gift for sniffing his way from survival to deification. He is so unremarkable at first, people even fail to notice his existence. He distinguishes things and people and places by smelling them; he can walk through the dark, find lost things, see beyond the panoptical (i.e. walls, as of clairvoyance) by simply pointing his nose and sniffing the collective "essenses" of the picture to his mind. He became a proficient perfumer, the alchemist of scents, and even extracted the pure scent, the essence, the soul of whatever thing or person he desired whereupon at the end of it all, he was seized by a prodigious threat that would demean his already meaningless life all together: he cannot smell himself.

3. Fight Club, another film adaptation from the same novel by Chuck Palahniuk. I have restrained myself all my lifetime from seeing the film because I wanted to read the book first. But everywhere I go, every bookstore and library I hacked, the novel is either pilfered or hidden, always nowhere to be found. And the more I foraged every bookstore establishment and library, the more the film seemed to be ubiquitous: it materialized in video stores, internet downloads, and free-to-watch online cinemas; however pirated, it was omnipresent. I was particularly interested in its dark comedy and heavy satire which the film adaptation failed to capture. Nevertheless, the movie is astonishing in its independent form. It's about an insomniac who lives two bipolar lives independent to each other. The two characters meet on an airplane (funny objection-to-rule grammatics, it's rather apt to say on a plane instead of in a plane however its dimensionality assumes its place), leading seemingly separate lives and fighting over the same erotomaniac woman. The two bipolar characters establish an underground fight club whose sole purpose is to release tension and detach one's self from all things frivolous by conducting a anarchistic revolution against the value systems of the society, particularly the apostasy against advertisements, mass media, and giant corporations. (Huwhaaat??XP) Its rebellious anti-establishment theme is rather appealing, and has a metaphysical zen-like concept behind it. Its twist is absobloodyfuckinglutely fantastic.XD

4. Schindler's List, another cinematic adaptation from the book Schindler's Ark by Thomas Keneally. Aside from perusing Anne Frank's Diary, my emotional response to the concept of Hitler and the Nazi concentration camps was nil until I saw this film. It's a biographical recollection about Oskar Schindler, a philanthropic businessman who saved more than one thousand Jews during the Holocaust. I am not anti-semitic by nature for I didn't know who the Jews are other than the general concept that they provoked the crucifixion of the mythical Jesus Christ. (Mythical, yes, that's a FACT. Deal the fuck with it.) Silly how ignorance can pervade one's set of ground beliefs, particularly Hitler's, and affect the course of history. Taking the foundation of Hitler's decision for the Holocaust to be religious, that the Jews are a subhuman race before the Germans', I can't help but snort at all these billions of people who are indoctrinated to believe in all these concepts of redemption and the afterlife. All faces of religion advocate our lives to be saved when every single unit of life shall biologically exhaust itself and die anyway. In other words, life should be spent, not saved. Lives are saved in this film anyhow; Schindler saves them so that they may spend their lives, just to die later on. Everybody dies to begin with, it's just the time, memory, and experience that makes life worthwhile.

5. Chocolat, another film adaptation based on the novel Chocolat by Joanne Harris. Holy motherfucking gaaaaaaaad.XD Johnny Depp is the avant garde of HOTNESSSSS.XD It's about a young mother who flits to a French village with her daughter where they open a chocolaterie whose motley chocolates each of unique taste and prescription treats the different social ailments inflicting the troubled and suppressed denizens of that village. What is it with movies based on novels that make them so appetizing??XP Most of the movies listed--nay, not all; all except for one--here are film adaptation of books.o_0 Perhaps books are always well-thought and well-written, but not widely read for humans prefer to be passively entertained in the shortest time possible, collapsing a supposed six-hour read into an hour and a half movie. Hurr. WTF ever.

6. Donnie Darko, the most fascinating film to deconstruct thus far. The most brilliant concept, yes yes, however ambitious and tightly edited. It begins with an average teenager cheating his death one night from the inscrutable crash of a jet engine into his room. It appears like your usual psychological thriller mirroring the Fight Club where the protagonist Donnie Darko also suffers from paranoid schizophrenia. It was just a fucking bull at the climax when it all turns out to be science fiction after all. The twist rather debased my intelligence as I underwent a thirty-second philippic until I reached some sort of quasinirvana, the same epiphanic moment I get when deconstructing short stories and novels until I decipher the provocative concept behind it. The film ends where it begins, but the ending winds Darko dead from the engine crash from the sky. In between these two bifurcating realities comes the tangential universe where two realities occur at the same time, only separated and later united back together by a wormhole. On the primary universe where Darko survives the crash of the jet engine, he follows the errands of giant rabbit, his supposed hallucination, to stymie the armageddon, the end of the world. It ends in a loophole where Gretchen, Donnie's girl, is killed by Frank, Donnie's sister's boyfriend who turns out to be the dead guy in the bunny costume (Darko's hallucination), who in turn is gunshot by Donnie on his right eye. With the two dead, Donnie retreats to a cliff, where a wormhole gains momentum. A plane crashes, its jet engine caught in the wormhole, as it all rewinds back to the beginning, where the alternate reality continues. Darko performs the Savior image in the alternate reality where Gretchen and Frank's life are spared instead of Darko's. Ar, this was some serious shit that demands class discussion.

7. Blade Runner, a cyberpunk science fiction film based on Philip Dick's novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? The movie is a mirror image of God's creation and expulsion of man in the Book of Genesis in the Bible. It is 2019 and the greatest engineers have created human androids called Replicants. These Replicants are rather subhuman in nature and are being deployed to the military to save human lives. They are devoid of the Original Sin, they have no freedom, no soul, no rights, but they are human in all aspects, albeit superior in physical prowess, mental execution, and later in ethical conduct. Blade Runner hunts them down and kills them one by one before they develop their own emotional responses and transform themselves entirely human--but superior to us nonetheless. When God knew Adam and Eve had obtained knowledge from the Tree of Knowledge, he expelled them from paradise, afraid that they will become like gods themselves, knowing good from evil. God kicked them out lest they would also obtain immortality from the Tree of Life. To put, God expelled our first ancestors because he was afraid they might prove themselves superior to God himself. Similarly, the system units of these blade runners tried at all cost to annihilate the Replicants, a creation of man, for man himself is arrogant and doesn't want to be usurped by a creature molded from his own making. Another film with serious shit: Was God just another species that predated humanity? Think euhemerism.

Hooooooooo. That'll be all for now. This entry is rather longish. I haven't written about films until now prolly because I prefer writing first hand experiences than vicarious thrills snatched from a metalbox with two-dimensional beings inside them.

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