Sartre, thine esse art a speck?

I haven't even begun shooting.

Budget to budget. Proposal to proposal. Talk to talk. I am wary that no one is interested.

Head in the clouds.

Hungry.

Oh shit, I haven't had lunch yet.

***

I must make this film.

TV interview

Kaye and I were interviewed for a local lifestyle show for GMA this afternoon about vegetarianism and the works.  If you want to see how stupid I look on TV, that's showing this Sunday 10:30 AM.  Hah.

Too bad, I can't watch it because I will be in a workshop at the IIPE office. Yikes.  Nick de Ocampo in Davao on the weekend.  The guy has thoughts worth gems.

Suprise me

If you read this journal, even if I don't speak to you often, post a memory of me. 

It can be anything you want. 

It can be good or bad, just so long as it happened. 

Then post this on your journal too! 

Be surprised (or not) about what people remember about you :)

Go ahead and reply.

And because I woke up and I couldn't go back to sleep

Blues, blues. I highly suspect that I have a "sleeping problem". Most conducive environments of slumber are inaccessible at the moment... Substances that could chemically deter restlessness are not at hand!

Strangest thing too: I cannot sleep without the lamp light. And my brother, who shares the room with me DEMANDS it off. Wasn't always like that.

So, I tasked myself to retrieve an old piece of trash I once called literature to my utter futility. I wanted to rewrite it and I guess my wish came true. Now I have to rewrite it from memory.

Oh, running out of words.

Posting lyrics to the song I'm listening to.

Jack Johnson - "Monsoon"

I feel sorrow for the fear
And everything it brings
Wonder if it will ever sleep
I know you understand
Because you briefly look away
Focusing on nothing
So now everything is clear
Cause there's noone to blame
You got no place to hide
It's only in your mind

And I saw you - in amazement
Stumbling through the day
You told me time - never waits
What is that supposed to mean?

All of life
Is in one drop of the ocean
Waiting to go home
Just waiting to go home
And if the moon
Can turn the tides it can pull the tears
and take them from our eyes
And make them into monsoons

And turn them into mon -
Sooner or later they'll weave their way back to the sea
Gonna finally be free
Yeah, free for a while
Until they break
Like waves of sorrow
Always do, all into time
Because time never waits

Daddy don't day dream again
Just help me to believe and then
Show me that there's more than the meantime
Sonny, do you hear the sound?
You will feel it when it breaks
You will know it when its gone
How else can I explain?
Because it's only the pain
It's coming straight through
Come into a mind

Cross cut to you - in amazement
Stumbling through the day
You tell me that time - never waits
That's ok cause I don't wait for time

When all of life
Is in one drop of the ocean
Waiting to go home
Just waiting to go home
And if the moon
Can turn the tides, it can pull the tears
And take them from our eyes
And turn them into monsoons

Make them into mon -
Sooner or later they'll weave their way back to the sea
Gonna finally be free
Yeah, free for a while
Until they break
Like waves of sorrow
Always break all in due time
Cause time never waits

Inspired by CRM's poetry: Reveling at how a stern soul can have such dolorous convictions

In not knowing

In not knowing where
the current shall take me
of this sea of people,
my heart is valiant and indubitable
stubborn of the stark
cynical truth

I gaze into your marked eyes
for signs of fragility
and forte, thence I ask
Will you shun me?

In not knowing how
In not knowing when,
for I predict blindly
that there is a cusp for
theory and conviction!
Dreams and practical desire

Is it my naught, then,
to drift away from the waters of your soul?
To be ashened by
my tumultous resistance
of plausibilities?
To withdraw
my deathly grasp
of hope?

Why we'd love to snog Ellen DeGeneres.

Yes, them dykes and fags love our Ellen. And WHY WE WANNA KNOCK THE WIND OUT OF PEOPLE THE LIKES OF SALLY KERN. Naku!

Sally Kern's message excerpted in Ellen's show are among the MANY tirades she has made in her "political" career. Two points I want to raise on this message:

1.) The entire hate speech she gave to that assembly mentioned higher death rates among homosexuals due to occurences of suicide, higher rates of psychological distress, shorter lifespans and (slippery-slope-ly) attributes this to "sinful" gay lifestyle. She fails to mention how in most of these researches, discrimination and homonegativity are attributed to these results (i.e. because of people like her). Moreover, studies show that gay domestic violence is a load of crock if your assumption is that it's likely to happen among gay and lesbian couples (when there are any, it is considered by profilers as a 'mutual assault'). The truth is among most of these profiles of gay domestic violence happen among gay male adolescents who are abused and or raped in the home, usually by an uncle or older brother, but sometimes by the father.

2.) Am I really more dangerous than a terrorist?

I miss having Ellen shown on our cable network. *frowns* On the plus side, for all you curious cats out there, The L word is showing on Velvet at night time (terse whisper: it's a show about lesbiannnzzz!) Finally, you know, some real cable shows. UNFORTUNATELY, they cut out the really juicy scenes that are makatibo or if you're a guy, makes you wish you were born a girl so you can be gay, heh.

What career do I want, really?

In the middle of writing my paper, one of four I'm hastily attempting to conjure by Friday zee deadliest of deadlines, I had an epiphany. What do I really want to do? I mean, pouring my heart in research and writing vigorously: is that what I want my life to become? A perpetual minutia of paperwork, a synthesis of data collection? I always thought of myself as the anti-thesis of the made-for-desk-job person. And yet here I am on my desk, doing what could possibly be my job prospect.

You know one of my professors told us the other day that (obviously) their teaching jobs in the University just don't cut their daily expenses. They get their bread and wine from research projects. I took a moment to illustrate what that'd be like and I realized it could mean just about anything. Imagine the bookish Sociologist hitting the statistics and trying to make sense out of these, arguing with theories, extracting visible examples and finally, formulating a mathematically concrete prognosis. Shivers. And then there are those working in the ranks of Social development from the Social workers talking to people on the ground and explaining to them why they should use a condom or asking their respondents why they don't in the first place. Or the big time Sociologist dancing in circles of the academics and policy makers, flying from one country to another attending conventions (sounds familiar)... I can barely count the ways. I think I want to be a big time sociologist if that's the case. I want to be jettisoned around for my personal learning. Maybe, write a book about it someday, not necessarily within the confines of my Sociological imagination.

But my fascination in the humankind is not statistical or not reducible to the conflicts that they face. I asked myself once if I wanted to be the Conflict-Theory kind of Sociologist or be plain ol' Structural-Functional or the fanciful Symbolic-Interactionist. WHAT. I don't know. I just like studying human groups, that's all. I'm talking about groups because the individual scenario is so awe-inspringly overdone and overrated and are not universal at times. It's difficult to affect change in an individual because it begins to hinge on freedom of choice, but you try to work on social change it's usually out of necessity. Not that I'm saying that the Social Science field is all about JUST change, but I'd like to think we're on the side of development and understanding. And speaking of which, I dislike it when people expressly show bias against other Social Science fields just because they fancy themselves to have more superior theories or what. I remember when I was a fresh major, I found myself stupidly staring back at this guy at the SS office when he expressed his "surprise" that I chose Sociology over Psychology, the latter he apparentely favors. He told me, "If you're cerebral perhaps you should take up Psychology". This really took me aback I wanted to get my Introductory Macionis manual and flail it on his face.

Would it sound sexy if someone introduced me as, "Hey, this is Kim she's a Sociologist!" Yikes. It doesn't have the same effect as being introduced as an Economist *blink blink*. It's so hard to imagine it without shuddering or laughing at myself. I'd rather be known as a name and not the job title. If anything, my background is auxillary to why people know me. YES, I think I have ambitions of fame and I'm lame for admitting to that. But I honestly want to be a resource for learning and you know, development or something. It'd be nice for people to come up to me, telling me they know me and my work and that they want to take me aside so that they can hear what I'm about to say. It sounds like an impossibility for me now, seeing as how I'm not so learned myself, yet. Sigh.

I'm procrastinating, excuse me. Actually, guys, I want to be a filmmaker or a creative writer. Whichever, take your pick.

***

I read my RSS feeds like a zombie, but this headline popped right at me:

Two teenaged girls who were kicked out of their Christian high school in Riverside County for having a lesbian relationship have lost their legal battle to have their explusion addressed in a discrimination case. The judge dismissed the case for having no legal basis; representatives from the school are pleased, reportedly saying "the religious school has a right to expel sinners."

CHRIST! My bleeding heart!

Some poignant memories of songs and stories that spoke to me

"I find it hard to say, that everything is alright
Don't look at me that way, like everything is alright
Cuz my own eyes can see, through all your false pretenses
But what you fail to see, is all the consequences
You think our lives are cheap, and easy to be wasted
As history repeats, so foul that you can taste it
And while the people sleep, too comfortable to face it
His life so incomplete, and nothing can replace it..."

- (I find it hard to say) Rebel by Lauryn Hill (MTV Unplugged 2.0 year 2001)

I've been listening intently to some songs I grew up with, and reviewed Lauryn Hill's two albums. Especially the one which I mentioned above. That MTV Unplugged session was a heartfelt performance of Lauryn Hill's unheard of songs, coming back with a radical contrast to her musical approach in 1998's chart-topping album "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill". The Unplugged album received mixed reviews. Hill made several comments about society, God, politics and women's rights, and was brought to tears when she sung, "Rebel...rebel...rebel!" When I saw it the first and last time, it really moved me. I was only twelve and I remember how scared I felt. Scared that there would come a day that I will be oppressed. And that when it is time to fight, I will feel so powerless.

I was listening to this song a while ago and I had a profound recollection of the confusing feelings that the song evoked in me when I was twelve. Except now, it has more implications and I have more responsibilities with regards to responding to its message. Going back to my last two posts, I have been roughly going in and out of the two sides of civil cynicism which this political scandal has inspired. I have questioned the gravity of each reaction and attempted to reconcile its effect or lack thereof with the actual events. There's no reconciliation. And I think that this song reminded me why there should be no reconciliation. There MUST be an overthrow. You cannot keep building a society that has a rotten foundation, whether morally or politically. You must tear it down and rebuild a new one with renewed vigor, to correct a mistake of the past. There is no other way.

***

Here is the story of a line who falls in Line with a Dot. The Dot initially rejects the Line for the more unkempt rockstar-ish Squiggle. Desperate but detemined, the Line finds a way to win back the Dot by introducing its bountiful potential and proving the Squiggle as a mere piece of chaos. In the end, the Line does not only win the Dot's affection and to live "if not happily ever after, at least reasonably so.", but the Line triumphs for itself. Remarked by its punning quote, "To the vector belong the spoils", this cartoon is based on a book by Norton Juster entitled, "The Dot and the Line: A Romance in Lower Mathematics".

Re: My previous post and some inappropriate things I said

After reading Kaye's comment on my previous post, I think I have overstepped my characterization of student protesters, at most, I was unfair to them. I wrote about how 'ridiculous' it was to see student protesters on Television, heartily holloing their disdain for the government. I criticised their actions and alluded to its uselessness and futility. I was cynical about them when I should be more cynical about the people behind the corruption scandal that is happening in our country. It is a mockery of all that we stand for: protester or non-protester. I should be on the side of those protesters in solidarity and I am ASHAMED that I have said all those things about them forgetting how angry I should feel that our country is being robbed. To protest is an emphasis of our positive rights and non-tolerance of its deprivation. A protest is a result of unrest and to protest in order to reform circumstances is not exactly the point. I forget what it was like. And I apologize to the student protesters I criticised in my last post.

Nightmares: dishonest taxi drivers and them ZTE student protests

I woke up before my alarm rang because I had this horrible nightmare of chasing after a cab that drove away with my briefcase. The briefcase is imagined to contain my laptop, my phone and my MAKE-UP KIT. It was at that pathos of running down the highway with cars threateningly swooping by me that this sequence abruptly ended with me gasping audibly and my eyes blinked wide open in to the dark early morning. This is one of those dreams that I had to collect my thoughts for a few minutes in order to determine reality; that this was not just another case of unconsciously visualizing actual events that have occurred recently. When I wake, I have the habit of being convinced for five to ten seconds that my dreams actually happened. Most probably because of how logical things unfold in some of my dreams, which reminds me I haven’t even told you about how this one begun. As I recall, I was riding a cab presumably to go home (despite the unfamiliarity of the environment) and just when I was about to get off the cab, the driver told me that he didn’t have change for a hundred. SO he suggested to pass by that garage where he parks the unit back and told me he could get some change from the operator. When we got there the “operator” who was behind a desk with a cash register and a somewhat officious look on his face, told us that he only had big bills and could not help us out and must therefore look for alternatives. For some reason the driver started throwing fits at the operator insisting that it was possible to get a change for a 100 with a 1000 bill. In my dream, I found it odd and concluded that the driver was stupid. I finally got irritated and walked away from the desk to embark on another cab, forgetting completely that I left my briefcase in the other cab and that he still had my cash which makes me...stupider than the cab drive. I know and you know how dreams are and how you suffer terribly from a slight string of selective amnesia; In which case, when I remembered that the briefcase was left, I saw the taxi I was initially on drive away from the garage the opposite direction while I was in the other cab. Stupidly, I got off my cab and ran after the taxi in desperation. I later suspected that I got all that energy to run due to the actual frustration I had when I learned that I left my passport in a taxi IN REAL LIFE and was unable to retrieve it. It was inside a portfolio which contained similarly important documents like my birth certificate, NBI clearance, school records...you know seriously documented stuff about an individual which are attainable by enduring long lines in say a hot government office and paying a sum of money meant for that next box of brownies. And don’t even get me started at how much of a hassle it is to get a new passport and a new US Visa. It’s a mess. And I get disappointed looks from people I meet when I tell them exactly how the passport got lost. I remember the guy at the DFA once told me, as translated from the vernacular, “Miss, you could have avoided us meeting entirely.” So I told him, “I know. But here we are, nice to finally meet you,” as though everything was ridiculously serendipitous.

***

You know what else is ridiculous? Student protesters. It’s just not the same as before and I don’t see my freedom being threatened as we speak. You know I think about how them students rallying against the ZTE deal could have otherwise spent their time self-managing their education. While I was cutting some classes and hitting my preferred reading material, I saw some kids on TV screaming their bronchioles out. ON TV. I like the added effect to it, and I know how important some people feel by taking part in this movement of civil society. But quite naturally, I think that this scandal doesn’t call for me to waste my time in protest. The probes are ongoing and somebody else is doing it for me, I am well-informed about the situation, moreover my opinion and stance on this issue have already echoed among those who are more capable of elucidating it...what more do I have to do to garner some results? Pray? Please. Spare. Me. The fact is, THUS FAR there are no violations on my freedoms to do what I want to do, and the possibility that by the end of the probe there will be any is highly suspect. Why? Because I happen to believe that there is some banal democracy and that systems of the government that are meant to countercheck its other instrumentalities, like investigating them politicians whose body politic are undeservingly perpetuated, are doing their job. I have no impetus to take the streets as far as I am concerned because I am not directly affected by this incident. Because let me tell you what my yardstick for “affectation” is: I can’t go to school because of this. Or that I am withheld access to the civil liberties I currently enjoy like being able to watch the right news on television and being able to read the right issues on the newspaper. Precisely why no one can tell me I don’t care about what’s going on around me by not protesting.

Lastly, I have a fundamental belief that a protest is not effective UNTIL there was force used against it. Instead of protesting, write an article if you want to be informative. Or guard your freedom by practicing it, like what I’m doing now.