February 22, 2012
David Foster Wallace
“No one single instant of it was unendurable. Here was a second right here: he endured it… He could just hunker down in the space between each heartbeat and make each heartbeat a wall and live in there. Not let his head look over. What’s unendurable is what his own head could make of it all. What his head could report to him, looking over and ahead and reporting. But he could choose not to listen.. Everything unendurable was in the head, was the head not Abiding in the Present but hopping the wall and doing a recon and then returning with unendurable news you then somehow believed.”
“Television looks to be an absolute godsend for a human subspecies that loves to watch people but hates to be watched itself. For the television screen affords access only one way… I happen to believe this is why television also appeals so much to lonely people. To voluntary shut-ins. Every lonely human I know watches way more than the average U.S. six hours a day. The lonely, like the fictional, love one-way watching. For lonely people are usually lonely not because of hideous deformity or odor or obnoxiousness — in fact there exist today social and support groups for persons with precisely these features. Lonely people tend rather to be lonely because they decline to bear the emotional costs associated with being around other humans. They are allergic to people. People affect them too strongly.”
February 18, 2012
Explain “could”
Ish donated blood, and Joey donated blood. I watched the nurse inject the syringe into Joey’s arm three times in the same place. She was bleeding out pretty bad from the needle hole. Afterward, Ish and Joey both changed their Facebook profile pictures to ones that showed the post-donation bandages on their arms. And then my brother also donated blood. He bled out pretty bad, too, and the nurse had to attach some cables onto his arm — cables that connected the veins from his shoulder to his wrist, bypassing the needle hole entirely. And then I found myself at a Foo Fighters concert in the Philippines, and Monica and Chandler surprised Dave Grohl by getting on the stage. Yes, Monica and Chandler, not Courteney and Matthew. Monica was wearing a black lace dress. Chandler was wearing a black shirt and a red silk skirt. It was kind of a strange concert; there was a giant dragon head above the stage, and Dave Grohl seemed confused. After the concert, I was backstage, looking for the band. I didn’t get to see them. They were in a private room with a group of young female high-school students — some sort of meet-and-greet, I guess. So I just decided to leave the auditorium. Before reaching the doors, I noticed I wasn’t wearing my rubber shoes. I backtracked, running, and I saw this guy who said he found my shoes. He threw my shoes toward me. I put them on and left the building. Outside, there was an expansive field of grass. As I was walking, this girl came up to me and said she knew I wasn’t in the technical support department, but she needed help with a customer. She led me to what looked like a computer lab in a school, where there were computers of various shapes and sizes and languages and brands I had never heard of. The customer was there, a girl about my age. She had her tablet with her. She was with her mother. The customer wanted live-streaming stock quotes. She explained she had already subscribed to receive that service, but she wasn’t getting them. I said I’d check out her tablet for her. I did a screen print, and it appeared her tablet was showing only the left half of what it should’ve been showing on the screen. We tried the computers in the lab, but we couldn’t get any of them to work. They were either incomprehensible or too slow. One of the computers had a Google search page up. The last search was “explain ‘could’” under the “Korean filter” search setting. I took this to mean that a Korean person was searching for the meaning of “could” in Google. Anyway I told the customer I couldn’t help her. And then I woke up.
February 15, 2012
Sleeptalking. True story.
Listen here – http://www.mp3upload.ca/track/vn/vn. It’s 6:05 long. There’s nothing after 4:05 except for some humming in the last 20 seconds.
February 14, 2012
Songs from the bottom of the well
…where there is no way to go but up: Long Road to Ruin by the Foo Fighters, Under Cover of Darkness by The Strokes, and Under Pressure by Queen and David Bowie. I just love how they sound, and I love what they say. Read the lyrics after the jump. Read the rest of this entry »
February 12, 2012
I don’t want to sleep.
I don’t want to sleep.
I’d rather take out the trash,
do my homework,
write a poem I’d rather read aloud
than keep on my blog
password protected because it spills
the beans of my anguish and rage
bitter like coffee.
I don’t want to sleep.
I’d rather burn the pages of the book
you gave me when you thought
we were friends
and tomorrow I’d spread the ashes
all over the back of your chair
so when you sit and lean
in the white sweater that you never take off
I’d know that I’m not turning my blood into coffee
bitter and boiling all the time.
February 9, 2012
The wonders of sleep. And of home.
It’s 4:30 a.m. and I’m awake, feeling well rested. I slept for eight hours — got an early start at 5 p.m. yesterday. Hehe. Now I still have about half an hour before I need to get ready for work. I’m just gonna lounge here at home. I love this apartment. Home + rest + music + literature + a movie = a good reboot. Anyway, here is Billy Collins reading his poem, Litany. Begin at 1:54 if you want to skip his introduction.
“There is no way you are the pine-scented air.” Like. Here are a couple other good ones: Walking Across the Atlantic by Billy Collins, read by a three-year-old boy, and Poetry by Pablo Neruda, read by Miranda Richardson.
February 8, 2012
Rivermaya
I’m the kind of person who can listen to the same song all day. Today it’s this.
February 7, 2012
Smirk
I registered for a creative writing course at the university. It’s a 200-level course, no pre-requisites. My guesstimation of the average age of students in the class is 20.
I missed the first three classes because I registered late.
First eight classes: Fiction
Middle seven classes: Poetry
Last eight classes: Creative non-fiction
Before the fiction section test, I asked for notes from one of the teaching assistants. I understand that students may approach the professor or either of the two TAs for any questions about the course. I didn’t need a consultation, just a copy of the lecture slides. Just send it to me by email, thank you. It should be quick and painless.
The TA told me to make a friend in class and then borrow notes from said friend.
Fuck that shit. I don’t need notes.
I got an A- in the test.
February 6, 2012
Kausap ko sarili ko baket
OMG Chase!!! Gusto ko yung episode ng House ngayon. Hindi pa tapos. Sino ba’ng kilala kong nanonood ng House? Wala.
Di na ko nanonood ng Once Upon A Time, pati The Big Bang Theory at kahit Gossip Girl! House nalang ang natira.
Meron akong Netflix. Pinanood ko yung pilot ng Firefly, di ko natapos. Pinanood ko yung pilot ng Community, nakatulugan ko ata. Pinanood ko yung first two episodes ng Breaking Bad, ok naman pero di ako compelled panoorin pa.
Kagabi, sinimulan ko yung Dexter. Five episodes agad ang napanood ko, at tumigil lang ako dahil kailangan ko nang matulog dahil may pasok kinabukasan. Medyo napapa-internal-smirk ako dahil Dexter lang yung naka-grab ng attention ko. Hehe. Such darkness.
House: They’re wrong. I’m sorry.
Chase: Anything else? I’m kinda busy.
OMG who else understands the dynamic, the significance of these lines in House and Chase’s eight-year relationship?! I almost want to recover my Twitter account to directly tell the House writers and actors how awesome tonight’s episode was. Pero almost lang.
Marami nang nangyari mula nung huli akong nagkwento tungkol sa sarili ko. That was Nov. 28, 2011. Ok naman ako.
February 5, 2012
Things I am getting rid of
Roughing It by Mark Twain
The Memoirs of Gluckel of Hameln
The Chess Master by A Cheng
Dictee by Theresa Hak Kyung Cha
My Future is in America: Autobiographies
Solomon Maimon: An Autobiography
Gilmore Girls: I Love You, You Idiot (book)
Star Wars: Last of the Jedi Against the Empire (book)
Clara Callan by Richard B. Wright
The Breaking Point by Stephen Koch
Understanding Central America by John A. Booth et al.
16 Cuentos Latinoamericanos
English by Wang Gang
The Twelve Little Cakes by Dominika Dery
Calculus & Its Applications by Larry J. Goldstein et al.
La verdad bajo la tierra by Miquel Dewever-Plana
Operation board game
jigsaw puzzle of a picture of puppies
seasons 1 and 2 of the L Word
Motorcycle Diaries DVD
Serving Sara DVD
That Thing You Do VHS tape
A fellow expat Iska
E: Which was a happier time, high school or college?
Me: I can’t compare them. High school happiness was shallow; high school pain was shallow. College happiness was more profound, but the pain was deeper, too.
E: How come… here in Canada… the happiness is…
Me: …shallow but the pain is deep?
E: Yeah.
Above or below
Two days ago
Jonathan
Livingston
Seagull
said he hoped I would fly
some day
I shot up
swooped down
gracefully
crashed
Which way
is
forward
does not matter
from above
or below
I know
I will still
keep dreaming
of snakes sliding
my legs running
