A bit of prose
This is going to be a bit long so unless you are looking to really pass time, skip it I guess :) The following is some sort of backlog from the first night of no electricity.
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The whole city is quiet. It must be. Except for aimless chatter, the sound of people gruntling in their sleeps, clocks ticking, children sharing ghost stories, some couples probably making love - odd as it seems in this situation, the somewhat lively buzz in hotels with their own electricity generators, blablabla. Apart from all those and some more, the whole 636 square kilometer of Metro Manila must be quiet. For the winds from the passing storm have died down and together with it so did electricity. Idle minds everywhere are left to wonder...
I'd like to weigh the melted wax from this candle burning beside me after I write this thing. Just so I can say, last night during the metro-wide black out I spent x grams of candle wax reading Tokyo Cancelled and musing about my life. But what significance will this measurement bring anyway? It won't make my ideas instantly realized and my philosophizing more noble, or turn my fantasies into reality. Certainly I won't put down this pen, climb to bed afterwards, and find myself lying next to a sleeping Wentworth Miller because duh we're happily married with a pet hamster, two turtles, a hyperactive Pomeranian and vacation houses in every continent.
A bit of a detour there but anyway I came to write about how I often find myself with so much creativity and new ideas cartwheeling around my head after reading pages of a book or watching an awesome movie. They don't just cartwheel, these thoughts, sometimes they breakdance to Black Eyed Peas songs too. Inside my head. I don't understand why they should do that, I'm not particularly fond of the Black Eyed Peas but they do. And I'm getting side-tracked again...
So I get these ideas, and I spend the better part of this short amount of time, that these ideas make themselves available, sitting down not knowing what to do with them. My brain is annoyingly inefficient sometimes. Or maybe it's just easily pleased. Like how I kind of like just sitting there and stewing in my abstract ideas. So golden.
I don't even know what day it is today. 28th? If so, it's only 24 days since I jet off to an unfamiliar place. Today's also the birthday of 2 of my friends and as usual, I remembered it the day before and forget it the day itself. Wait, is today their birthday?
So the Indochina trip deal yeah. Well I want to write a script of sorts right now. But I'm not good with them. And I'm making a documentary. I sort of want to make a mockumentary out of it though, a fictional documentary. But all the experiences I'm wishing to draw upon are yet to happen. This documentary is fuelled mainly by own questions with regards to new age soul searching backpacker style. Like, how exactly do you find yourself in a place you've never been to before? Of course we all know, it's the experience that counts and all the brain cell buzzing it generates inside you. But is it really that simple? Or more precisely, are we ever satisfied by mere words describing assumed truths and processes? no. So we make movies, take photographs, archive memories. And we share them with other people who are similarly increasingly eager for stimuli, second hand experience vultures, memory whores - I mean that all in the nicest way possible because it's the same generation I belong to. If not a generation, then a certain configuration at a certain point in life.
---Okay, I just came up with a premeditated ending. Now I just have to wait and make this documentary. I guess I should be in mockumentary and experimental docu immersion-mode up until I leave for the "big adventure." Ugh, I hate calling it that... Okay, obviously I've reached the point where I start to curse that span of time I spent simply stewing in my golden ideas since I've ran out of uhm, creative fuel. See how I'm running out of adjectives.
---
"Was it not at times like this, when life malfunctioned, when time found a leak in its pipeline and dripped out into some hidden little pool, that new thoughts happened, new things began?"
-from Tokyo Cancelled by Rana Dasgupta
---
The whole city is quiet. It must be. Except for aimless chatter, the sound of people gruntling in their sleeps, clocks ticking, children sharing ghost stories, some couples probably making love - odd as it seems in this situation, the somewhat lively buzz in hotels with their own electricity generators, blablabla. Apart from all those and some more, the whole 636 square kilometer of Metro Manila must be quiet. For the winds from the passing storm have died down and together with it so did electricity. Idle minds everywhere are left to wonder...
I'd like to weigh the melted wax from this candle burning beside me after I write this thing. Just so I can say, last night during the metro-wide black out I spent x grams of candle wax reading Tokyo Cancelled and musing about my life. But what significance will this measurement bring anyway? It won't make my ideas instantly realized and my philosophizing more noble, or turn my fantasies into reality. Certainly I won't put down this pen, climb to bed afterwards, and find myself lying next to a sleeping Wentworth Miller because duh we're happily married with a pet hamster, two turtles, a hyperactive Pomeranian and vacation houses in every continent.
A bit of a detour there but anyway I came to write about how I often find myself with so much creativity and new ideas cartwheeling around my head after reading pages of a book or watching an awesome movie. They don't just cartwheel, these thoughts, sometimes they breakdance to Black Eyed Peas songs too. Inside my head. I don't understand why they should do that, I'm not particularly fond of the Black Eyed Peas but they do. And I'm getting side-tracked again...
So I get these ideas, and I spend the better part of this short amount of time, that these ideas make themselves available, sitting down not knowing what to do with them. My brain is annoyingly inefficient sometimes. Or maybe it's just easily pleased. Like how I kind of like just sitting there and stewing in my abstract ideas. So golden.
I don't even know what day it is today. 28th? If so, it's only 24 days since I jet off to an unfamiliar place. Today's also the birthday of 2 of my friends and as usual, I remembered it the day before and forget it the day itself. Wait, is today their birthday?
So the Indochina trip deal yeah. Well I want to write a script of sorts right now. But I'm not good with them. And I'm making a documentary. I sort of want to make a mockumentary out of it though, a fictional documentary. But all the experiences I'm wishing to draw upon are yet to happen. This documentary is fuelled mainly by own questions with regards to new age soul searching backpacker style. Like, how exactly do you find yourself in a place you've never been to before? Of course we all know, it's the experience that counts and all the brain cell buzzing it generates inside you. But is it really that simple? Or more precisely, are we ever satisfied by mere words describing assumed truths and processes? no. So we make movies, take photographs, archive memories. And we share them with other people who are similarly increasingly eager for stimuli, second hand experience vultures, memory whores - I mean that all in the nicest way possible because it's the same generation I belong to. If not a generation, then a certain configuration at a certain point in life.
---Okay, I just came up with a premeditated ending. Now I just have to wait and make this documentary. I guess I should be in mockumentary and experimental docu immersion-mode up until I leave for the "big adventure." Ugh, I hate calling it that... Okay, obviously I've reached the point where I start to curse that span of time I spent simply stewing in my golden ideas since I've ran out of uhm, creative fuel. See how I'm running out of adjectives.
---
"Was it not at times like this, when life malfunctioned, when time found a leak in its pipeline and dripped out into some hidden little pool, that new thoughts happened, new things began?"
-from Tokyo Cancelled by Rana Dasgupta
posted by Byeong | 5:37:00 PM
2 Comments:
find myself lying next to a sleeping Wentworth Miller because duh we're happily married with a pet hamster, two turtles, a hyperactive Pomeranian and vacation houses in every continent.
I like this a lot. hahahaha
sI like it a lot too. hahaha Now, if only... haha
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