Monday, August 30, 2004

moviefreak hat.

Hat on.

This boy here is a moviebuff. Just so you know. But this boy's fondness of films started only this year. Late bloomer eh. This is the reason why I've been taking all the chances I've got to own and watch all the best movies my eyes and my wallet can stand. My quest for the best arthouse (or even good Hollywood) flicks started when I stumbled upon IMDB's Top 250 Best Movies of All-time. From then on, I've been digging bootleg DVD havens in Quiapo or in any other pppiracy-oriented business establishments (naks!). My heart jumps in glee and gratitude when I spot on the likes of Zatoichi (Takeshi Kitano), Spirited Away (Hayao Miyazaki) and Central Station (Walter Salles). Now let this boy share his own recent DVD fest.

21 Grams. Another riveting Sean Penn psychological suspense flick. The twist in the movie just blew me away from my bed while watching this. I don't know what's with Sean Penn's face but it's always unbelievably true human emotions he exudes. The powerhouse cast of Naomi Watts and Benicio del Toro made this movie build truly unforgettable characters. Salute to director Alejandro Gonzales IƱarritu for the seemingly impeccable masterpiece.

Hable Con Ella (Talk to Her). This has characters made to stick in your memory for a longer time. I watched it two weeks ago but I can still very well remember each of them. How their lives intertwined. Not to mention the movie's antics. Now what really made an indelible mark on my head is the song Cucurrucucu... Paloma. I was on the verge of falling tears when the song was sung in the movie. It's in Spanish but the translated words struck me, hit me here (directs forefinger to the chest). The next day, rushed to my computer and DLed the song. Director Pedro Almodovar IS one greatly talented (gay) man, that's to summarize.

Spirited Away. Definitely an adventure. The animation just takes you to the world it portrays. Hands down to the man behind every single aspect (story, animation, direction) in its creation: Hayao Miyazaki.

Jan Dara. Good cinematography. Beautiful photography. Great production design. Bad acting. Erotic. Oh I love the main guy here when he was 17 in the movie. It's a coming-of-age Thai movie.

Zatoichi. The much-celebrated Japanese film by Takeshi Kitano. Starring also himself as the believable blind samurai. You'll know he studied blind people to be able to pull off such performance. 'Twas a hilarious movie, with all the musical touches. And indispensable in any samurai film: gore and blood was all over the screen. It was good but I thought it was forgettable.

Lined up for the DVD spin are Under the Tuscan Sun and Central Station.

Hat off.

Saturday, August 28, 2004

isn't she lovely?

I'm proud to have been inside an airplane. On flight yeh of course. Bah, not so many people have been in one at the age of 21. ( I was that age then.) I was assigned to visit one of the company's dealers (some of the few things I thank my work for) to fix on some software. Destination: Cagayan de Oro City. Being the innocent hyperactive frustrated photographer (= moron) that I am, the digicam (which I only borrowed for that trip) was on shooting mode all throughout the course of the trip despite and in spite of the crew' s announcement that no electronic medium maybe 'on' while air-borne. Didn't ask for the window seat for nothing!

Now here are some of my aerial shots. I was really looking down the window to chance upon good photo possibilities. And guess what I found peeking under the clouds? Gasp. (Pardon, poor lighting.)

Lovely, isn't she?

Friday, August 27, 2004


This makes my MP3 player sound like a busted record. Been playing for the nth time since the other day. This song happens to be part of the Kill Bill Vol. 2 soundtrack. The words are a bit creepy and the beat sort of trances you into, erm, the similarly creepy Kill Bill volumes world.

Today. The only song in my playlist. Repeat button down.

Goodnight Moon

There's a nail in the door
And there's glass on the lawn
Tacks on the floor
And the TV is on
And I always sleep with my guns when you're gone

There's a blade by the bed
And a phone in my hand
A dog on the floor
And some cash on the nightstand
When I'm all alone the dreaming stops
And I just can't stand

What should I do I'm just a little baby
What if the lights go out
And maybe and then the wind just starts to moan
Outside the door he followed me home

Now goodnight moon
I want the sunIf it's not here soon
I might be done
No it won't be too soon 'til I say goodnight moon

There's a shark in the poo
lAnd a witch in the tree
A crazy old neighbor and he's been watching me
And there's footsteps loud and strong coming down the hall
Something's under the bed
Now it's out in the hedge
There's a big black crow sitting on my window ledge
And I hear something scratching through the wall

What should I do I'm just a little baby
What if the lights go out
And maybe i just hate to be all alone
Outside the door he followed me home

Now goodnight moonI want the sun
If it's not here soon
I might be done
No it won't be too soon 'til I say goodnight moon

Thursday, August 26, 2004

crush and how the universe conspires for your favor.

I've this shuttlebusmate crush. Your boy-next-door silent type. Noticed him already since my first days at work. But he's no to-die-for variety. Infatuation only on the riverside. Not on the main. So say I've been keeping two years of stolen stares and a couple of nights with him on my bed. Wake up, you're dreaming!

I've always thought he's straight. He is. And maybe he was just flirting whatever with me when one night, we went to where the magic is, Enchanted Kingdom. We got together 'cos 'twas a group victory celebration kinda thing. Sportsfest stuff. We had picture-takings of course. Groups. Solos. By 3s. By 2s. In a couple of by 3s, we were together. He will position himself somewhere in my back. Perverted me! It was not only once that he'll push his body too closely towards my back. His pecs pressing on my upper back. Like I bother. Get on, I thought to myself. But nothing more than that, just some knowing smile once in a while.

Next time we rubbed elbows was during the height of my badminton mania. He happened to be playing the sport too. We had a one-on-one. He invited me to have one. Badminton singles of course. And there were butterflies rouding my waist all the while.

And then last Saturday, after eons, he asked my number from a common friend. What have I done to deserve this? So he texted, asking me to hit the courts with him. Talk about more butterflies, a gazillion of them. How stupid of me to have left my racket in the office? Just when I can use it in my very favor, erm! But the universe, the universe conspires. He said he'll arrange so that I can borrow a racket from his friend. For some delusional minutes, I thought it was only he and I who'll play. Turns out, we're a handful. I got to borrow a racket, we played, that's all that happened. We talked but only chitchats. High tide killed the bonfire by the shore.

But we're playing again next Saturday. Patience is a virtue, hankpank! Hope the universe conspires further!

Tuesday, August 24, 2004

testing the mic.

Welcome, hankpank, to your new haven of whatevers!

Wait, no, this ain't gonna be just your usual whatevers. You left your old nook for reasons (you don't want to further enumerate here), and one of those reasons (now you're giving in) is freedom. Say that again? Freedom. Don't you just adore this word!

Confessions. Freedom. Freedom of confessions. Wouldn't this be bloody? But really, who cares? That's what you've been wanting to escape your head (or mouth, whatever) all this time. To say to the world, who fucking care?!


Alright, I'm no unruly dude. It's just because the bomb inside me has just exploded. In fact, I'm your normal kinda guy who happens to have a not-so-normal life. Oh back up! I'm not gonna talk about cheesy stuff here, am I? And by the way, "normal" is seasonal. I, as need arises, cross the thin line of normality and insanity. You'll be witness to that.

During one outdoor breakfast...

coffee and...


hard bread. Mind can't think of other
words to describe the "hard"-ness.
Too hard, I didn't eat it. Pun intended!