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because i can’t seem to figure out how to respond to charm on this post (ano ba tumblr!)
Charm said: is there something in the air now that makes people reflect upon “sadnesses”? nagsisimula pa lang mag tagulan ganito na ang simoy ng panahon. Masaya tumakbo sa ulan. Nasabi ko na ba sa’yo yun?
yes, i think the gray weather makes it easier for people to indulge in their inner gloom. but it wasn’t that necessarily. I can be sad and brooding under the sun-drenched afternoons of a beach.
I think I was more surprised with my own response to melodrama that was this made-for-tv version of Wuthering Heights—a recognition that though I’d love to be the wry, dry and ironic interpreter of sexual frustration and relationships, at my core I am a downright sniveling romantic.
I read Wuthering Heights a long, long time ago—young enough that it was the innocence of Little Women which made more of a mark. But seeing it onscreen at 30 and with a lit degree tucked somewhere in my cleavage (heehee,) I couldn’t help pulling it apart as a text. (I also think it’s my smarter self trying to elevate the one who was seeking Tom Hardy and that too-sharp nose over those too-thick lips)
There was so much cruelty and so much longing. Like the repression and the fact that a woman was mere property made the men so, so, so childish. That a father’s love can not be shared, that status is the only way you can be assured that you will have a paltry sense of power.
(grabe na! what is this pseudo-reading?)
And siyempre, how things seemed to be in a strict opposition to something else. The civilized vs the heathen, man vs woman (obviously!), kindness vs cruelty etc etc etc
But for the poor unfortunate couple (so much more tragic than romeo and juliet!) these things did not make sense. These oppositions are obliterated because of their love for each other.
[i love this stylistic fact—Though they constantly spoke to each other of love (the constant punctuation of their sentences with my love even in an argument,) they are only able to truly express what the other person means when fumbling to explain it to someone else.]
Both Heathcliff and Catherine talk about how they are each other. I am Heathcliff; She is me. This means largely different things because Heathcliff loathes himself most of all it seems. But that is a kind of love that we don’t really hear about anymore because it’s too codependent, it’s too odious in the world of individuality. But that makes sense to me. Though probably not in the real world where tedium is just as weighty as so much emotion. (i obviously want to write more about the tv show. and probably about fukunaga’s jane eyre. and probably hihintayin kita sa langit.)
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though charm, i have a feeling that that was far far from what you were saying. and to wit, i’ve always loved football in the rain. i’ve also stopped singing “im only happy when it rains,” because well, I’ve become so earnest it hurts.
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one realizes with such sadness that as much as i’d love for my life to be like a jane austen novel (where he eventually realizes that she has captured his soul)—emily bronte seems to know what it meant to be a woman. and even, charlotte bronte with her jane eyre.
it seems that we are all sad and alone.
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We don’t love what you say about us — we don’t love that you say we’ll be left out of the Kingdom of God for being gay. But we love that you grew from a poor, underweight little boy on the streets of General Santos City into a champion the world knows as Filipino.
But between your time in the ring, your time in Congress, your time at your game show, your time tending to the poor crowds who gather, palms out, wherever you are, hoping you’ll bless them with your wealth, I wonder if one question rings quietly inside of you: How did I survive?
It’s the same question that still rings inside of me, at age 28, 12 years removed from the moments when I thought I should speed along my own death, actualizing everything the Bible said I should endure for loving the way I love. When I faced Proposition 22, Proposition 8, DOMA, Amendment 1, and too many dictates from the Church, and relatives, and leaders like you, who called me disordered, dangerous, diseased, doomed, how did I survive?
I’ll tell you what helped me survive, Kuya. The team of friends, teachers, and family — even a priest! A Catholic priest! — who coached me that my need for partnership was as natural as your union with your wife. The barkada who put their hands on my shoulders in my own tough corners and taught me again and again this lesson: God did not intend for any of us to move through this life alone, gay or not.
” —From An Open Letter to Manny Pacquiao from a Gay Filipina American.
I’ve become quite exhausted and apathetic about the constant assault of upholding what the Bible says in the face of living, actual messy struggling living. When a person appeals to another, in the face of sameness and difference, it only emphasizes how a book, the written word (of so many tongues, existing for so long, both static and constantly changing) is merely an approximation of truth.
you moved me, Laurel Fantuzzo because I would never extend the same kindness to Manny Pacquiao. I don’t care as much to change his mind.
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“A man who chooses to be alone assumes the glamour of his forebears. A woman’s aloneness makes us suspicious: Even today it carries connotations of reluctance and abandonment, on the one hand, and selfishness and disobedience, on the other.” — from The Lonely Ones on The New Inquiry.
1. Oh I do have an expensive vice—a single girl’s sense of freedom.
2. I actually thought you were hot, when I still liked assholes/stupid men.
3. And saying this will only just prove the point that i am needy but it annoys that i have to do this alone.
of course, Bill Murray has the Classic Mini Digital Camera. Of course, he’s wearing what he’s wearing. He’s Bill Murray.
Check out Bill Murray with the Classic Mini Digital Camera! Adorb.
We have these in the Photojojo Shop if you’re wondering where to get one!
Bill Murray with the Classic Mini Digital Camera
Photo by Pascal Le Segretain
“In the end, I think the relationships that survive in this world are the ones where two people can finish each other’s sentences. Forget drama and torrid sex and the clash of opposites. Give me banter any day of the week. ”
-Douglas Coupland, Hey Nostradamus!: A novel
(via confessionsofamichaelstipe)
The Comedian Comedians Were Afraid Of -
Patrice O’Neal didn’t just want to be famous, he wanted to be as good as Richard Pryor. To hear his fellow comics tell it, he was—a brutal truth-teller who spared no one, starting with those closest to him.
(via the-feature)
A delicious homage to Pantone and its (growing) heritage of color.
(via wnycradiolab)
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