TRADITIONAL CHRISTMAS WISHLIST

1. This is Real Life (The Maine)



2. Catching Fire (Suzanne Collins) - sequel to The Hunger Games



3. Fire (Kristine Cashore) - sequel to Graceling

100+ BOOKS I'VE READ IN 2009

December

113. Fire (Kristin Cashore)
112. Emily Strange: The Lost Days (Rob Reger)
111. Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist (Rachel Cohn and David Levithan)
110. Witch and Wizard (James Patterson)
109. The Van Alen Legacy (Melissa de la Cruz)
108. Go! (Love Trilogy, Book 3) (Kate Cann)
107. Specials (Uglies Trilogy, Book 3) (Scott Westerfeld)
106. Pretties (Uglies Trilogy, Book 2) (Scott Westerfeld)

November

105. Ready? (Love Trilogy, Book 1) (Kate Cann)
104. Frostbite (Vampire Academy, Book 2) (Richelle Mead)
103. Blood Roses (Francesca Lia Block)
102. Kapitan Sino (Bob Ong)
101. You Suck: A Love Story (Christopher Moore)
100. The Sun Also Rises (Ernest Hemingway)
99. Buhay Pinoy: mga piling interbyu't artikulo (Dr. Fanny A. Garcia)
98. Bagets: An Anthology of Filipino Young Adult Fiction (Carla M. Pacis and Eugene Y. Evasco, eds.)
97. Full House: 10 Stories About Poker (Pete Hautman)
96. Impulse (Ellen Hopkins)
95. Mort (Terry Pratchett)
94. Small Gods (Terry Pratchett)

October

93. Diary (Chuck Palahniuk)
92. Wake (Lisa McMann)
91. Lombardo's Law (Ellen Wittlinger)
90. The Elephant Vanishes (Haruki Murakami)
89. Things the Grandchildren Should Know (Mark Oliver Everett)
88. Daniel X: Watch the Skies (James Patterson)
87. Pygmy (Chuck Palahniuk)
86. Snuff (Chuck Palahniuk)
85. Daywatch (Sergei Lukyanenko)
84. Bakit Baliktad Magbasa ng Libro ang mga Pilipino? (Bob Ong)
83. Macarthur (Bob Ong)
82. Alamat ng Gubat (Bob Ong)
81. ABNKKBSNPLAko?! (Bob Ong)
80. Ang Paboritong Libro ni Hudas (Bob Ong)
79. Stainless Longganisa (Bob Ong)
78. Nightwatch (Sergei Lukyanenko)

September

77. Deadeye Dick (Kurt Vonnegut)
76. Feed (M.T. Anderson)
75, Bulletproof Girl (Quinn Dalton)
74. Di Lang Anghel (U Eliserio)
73. The Camel Bookmobile (Masha Hamilton)
72. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (J.R.R. Tolkien)
71. The Anti-christ (Friedrich Nietszche)
70. Kuliti: Pagtatanggol sa Pag-ibig (Buado, Eliserio, Manansala, Neri, Pascual)
69. Kawangis (Dumlao and Eliserio, eds.)

August

68. The Best of Youngbloods (Philippine Daily Inquirer eds.)
67. The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
66. Twisted (Jessica Zafra)
65. Twisted 3: Planet of the Twisted (Jessica Zafra)
64. Twisted 5 (Jessica Zafra)
63. Womenagerie: Tales from the Front (Jessica Zafra)
62. Twisted 6 (Jessica Zafra)

July

61. Prom Nights from Hell (Stephenie Meyer, Kim Harrison, Meg Cabot, Lauren Myracle, Michele Jaffe)
60. Wintersmith (Terry Pratchett)
59. Life on the Refrigerator Door: Notes Between a Mother and Daughter (Alice Kuipers)
58. Only You Can Save Mankind (Terry Pratchett)

June

57. The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian (C.S. Lewis)
56. The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe (C.S. Lewis)
55. Fragile Things (Neil Gaiman)
54. Witches Abroad (Terry Pratchett)

May

53. Love in the Time of Cholera (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
52. Twisted 7 (Jessica Zafra)
51. Steel Trapp: The Challenge (Ridley Pearson)
50. Chronicles of Ancient Darkness: Soul Eater, Book 3 (Michelle Paver)
49. The Graveyard Book (Neil Gaiman)

April

48. Werewolves in their Youth (Michael Chabon)
47. Your Favorite Seuss: A Baker's Dozen by the One and Only Dr. Seuss (Dr. Seuss)
46. Angela and the Baby Jesus (Frank McCourt)
45. This Is What I Did (Ann Dee Ellis)
44. Razzle (Ellen Wittlinger)
43. Rewind (Laura Dower)
42. Horseradish (Lemony Snicket)
41. The Demonata: Slawter, Book 3 (Darren Shan)
40. The Bell Jar (Sylvia Plath)
39. The Human Fly and Other Stories (T. C. Boyle)
38. Den of the White Fox (Lensey Namioka)
37: Tweak: Growing Up in Metamphetmine (Nic Sheff)
36. ChaseR: a novel in e-mail (Michael Rosen)
35. Noticing Paradise (Ellen Wittlinger)
34. The Mortal Instruments: The City of Glass (Cassandra Clare)

March

33. The Outcast of 19 Schuyler Place (E. L. Konigsburg)
32. Maximum Ride: MAX (James Patterson)
31. Lullabye (Chuck Palahniuk)
30. How They Met and Other Stories (David Levithan)
29. So Yesterday (Scott Westerfeld)
28. The Long Night of Leo and Bree (Ellen Wittlinger)
27. Heart on My Sleeve (Ellen Wittlinger)
26. Milkweed (Jerry Spinelli)
25. Personal (Rene Villanueva)
24. Are We There Yet (David Levithan)
23. Small Avalanches and Other Stories (Joyce Carol Oates)
22. The Communist Manifesto (Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels)
21. What the Moon Saw (Laura Resau)
20. Sa Ano Nabubuhay Ang Tao? (Sofronio G. Calderon, Leon Tolstoy)
19. Be More Chill (Ned Vizzini)
18. How I Live Now (Megan Rosoff)
17. Smiles To Go (Jerry Spinelli)
16. So B. It (Sarah Weeks)
15. HellBent (Anthony McGowan)

February

14. Sexy (Joyce Carol Oates)
13. Norwegian Wood (Haruki Murakami)
12.South of the Border, West of the Sun: A Novel (Haruki Murakami)
11. A Wild Sheep Chase (Haruki Murakami)
10. In A Miso Soup (Ryu Murakami)

January

9. Red Dragon (Thomas Harris)
8. Joker: Hamlet's Been Cracked (Ranulfo)
7. Green Angel (Alice Hoffman)
6. After Dark (Haruki Murakami)
5. Piercing (Ryu Murakami)
4. The Complete Horrowitz Horror Stories (Anthony Horrowitz)
3. Japanland: A Year In Search of Wa (Karin Muller)
2. A Resurrection of Magic: Skin Hunger, Book 1 (Kathleen Duey)
1. I Am the Messenger (Markus Zusak)

Piercing (Ryu Murakami)

I would never, lie to you, I want you, to look at me, but focus your eyes, somewhere behind me, like one of those, 3-D pictures, do like that, that's the secret, my mother, she put ammonia, on my hand, and one time she said, do you want a tattoo, and she sharpened this pencil, a hard one, 4H or 5H, really sharp, and she stabbed my arms, and legs with it, and she hit me, with a milk bottle, and tied up my ears, and fingers, with string, she didn't care, she'd prise open my eyelids, with her fingers, and bring the tip, of a burning cigarette, or a needle, right up to my eye, it didn't bother her at all, so now, do you understand the secret? (p.173)

Ito yung binabasa ko nung biglang sumakit ang lalamunan ko nung nakaraang linggo.

Now I'm going to, cut your Achilles, your Achilles tendons, so remember, remember to do, like I just told you. (p.173)

Blooper 'to. Akala ko si Haruki ang nahugot ko sa shelf. Hiniram ko lang sa library kasi wala akong pera pambili ng kaligayahan. Krisis.

Halcion confuses your mind but it doesn't change your personality. (p.175)

Note to self: Uli-uli titingnan mabuti ang buong ngalan ng awtor. Kung Haruki Mukami, 'Haruki Murakami'. Hindi 'Murakami' lang basta.

We're almost there, he told himself sternly. We're about to hear what it sounds like when you cut the Achilles tendons. (p.177)


K E Y W O R D S : Baby. Icepick. Pavor nocturnus. Abuse. Home. Schizophrenia. Stripper. Boiling water. Bath tub. Stomach. Hotel. Knife. Achilles tendons. Erotomaniac. Incest. Swiss Army knife. Thigh. Crushed Halcion tablets. Can opener. Electrical cord. Nipple ring.



Ito yung tipong "random-hugot, lagot!" na libro.





THERE'S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING

If it were truly only for chopping ice, you'd think a completely different design might do. (p.5)

Who's that?
Me.
Well, if it wasn't you Taku-chan, who would it be?
If it's not me, I don't care who it is.
(p.24)

If you really loved me! You wouldn't just sit there! And let another man! Make me do those things! You'd beat the hell out of him! Or kill him! (p.25)

I need to be punished. She's mad at me. She's mad at me, but she won't hit me, so I've got to punish myself. If I don't, she might leave. He walked to the heater and shoved his right hand into the pot of boiling water. (p.26)

The ice pick met no more resistance than would a safety pin sinking into a sponge. It slid effortlessly into her sagging white belly.. (p.27)

His mother, enraged at the child who wouldn't cry or even cry out, only hit him all the harder; but the more she hit him, the more he concentrated on telling himself that it wasn't him she was hitting, until he actually succeeded in separating himself from the pain. (p.29)

He could actually see his other self standing before the shelves two or three paces ahead of him now, holding a package of disposable diapers. This other-self pointed to the picture of a baby on the package and grinned at Kawashima, then beckoned to him. (p.30)

Come to think of it... Come to think of it, somewhere along the line I became a man who never does anything people consider suspicious. (p.38)

When you cut the Achilles tendon, the sound it makes is as loud and sharp as a gunshot. (p.38)

First of all, the victim would have to be a prostitute - it was the only logical choice. (p.39)

But it was essential that the flesh he pierced with the ice pick be as white as possible. (p.40)

You could cause death by internal bleeding, puncturing certain organs, but what good was that if you couldn't watch it happening? (p.41)

She must remain uncertain as to what significance her own bloodshed and agony hold. It's vital that those on the receiving end of violence ponder its meaning. (p.45)

Did he need to do a dry run - order up a woman from a different S&M club one time before the big night, to acquaint himelf with the procedure? (p.48)

The most orthodox method would be to strangle her. Strangling held little appeal for him; but if it came to that, he'd prefer to use a wire of thin stainless steel. (p.49)

If it turned out to be her, all he needed to say was Long time no see. And maybe ask about the scar. (p.54)

In other words, men who were attracted to much older women were sick and abnormal. (p.55)

Such behaviors weren't the reasons parents abused children but the results of abuse. Children are powerless, Kawashima muttered to himself. (p.57)

Children would struggle desperately to feel love for their parents. Rather than hate a parent, in fact, they'd choose to hate themselves. Love and violence became so intertwined for them that when they grew up and got into relationships, only hysteria could set their hearts at ease. (p.57)

Focusing alternately on his own reflection in the bedewed window and the nightscape of Tokyo at his feet, Kawashima began to think of himself as a representative. A representative of all the children who'd become insignificant dots in that dark diorama; a martyr armed with only an icepick, facing down the enemy hordes. (p.58)










Maikli lang yung libro, 11 kabanata, 185 pahina. Pero deym, it's one hell of a book.

Psycho meets psycho.










The sex you have made with a man at your own suggestion is just never that good. After all, if you have to ask for sex, it means the man isn't really into it, right? And guys are never sweet or gentle or thoughful in bed if they're not really into it. (p.67)

Piercings scared them, like tattoos on yakuza thugs, and inwardly Chiaki would sneer at these men: Because I enjoy watching worms like you squirm. (p.69)

Memories aren't like words; they're soft and gooey. (p.96)

The girl had been holding the knife down at her side since he'd appeared, but now she raised it and plunged the scissors into the blood-dark meat of her thigh again. It sounded like when you step in mud - splut. (p.99)

How proud I'd be if I could actually kill her, she thought. Stab her in the thigh and hear the skin puncturing, like when you spear a sausage with a fork. But then things things get hazier and hazier, and finally you wake up in the hospital. (p.104)

Curling back her lips like a cornered dog, the girl bit into the base of his middle finger, where it met the palm. She was biting as hard as she could, squeezing her eyes shut and scrunching up her face, and her teeth broke the flesh and severed a nerve. (p.106)

Stabbing someone in a state like this would be like stabbing a manequin. She probably wouldn't even try to scream if he cut her Achilles tendons; she'd probably greet death with this same out-of-it expression on her face. (p.107)

He'd bought a combat knife with a blade as long as his forearm and ended up using it to slice through a cheap shirt instead of a pair of Achilles tendons. (p.108)

Her teeth were coated with a sticky substance, and her tongue discovered something like a bit of rubber band stuck to her upper gum. She fished this out and looked at it. It had a pattern of little grooves, and when she realized it was a piece of human skin, she remembered having bitten the man's finger. (p.113)

His face was a complete mess, in fact, and yet it was also the most adorable thing she'd ever seen. She had a sudden urge to hit that face. Not just give him a little slap on the cheek but slug him as hard as she could, with her fist or a bottle or a wrench or something, right in the eye. (p.129)

I like to watch boys when they're sleeping really soundly? So about six months ago I crushed up three Halcion tablets and mixed them in Kazuki's Campari and orange, and ever since then he won't eat or drink anything I give him. They're all like that. (p.131)

Everybody wants to talk about themselves, and everybody wants to hear everybody else's story, so we take turns playing reporter and celebrity. (p.133)

Everyone's running around comparing wounds, like bodybuilders showing off their muscles. And what's really unbelievable is that they really believe they can heal the wounds like that, just by putting them on display. (p.133)

Only voices and images from the external world could neutralize those from inside. That was why Kawashima's greatest fear - far greater for him than the fear of death - was of losing his sight and hearing to some illness or accident. (p.141)

Cut off from actual sights and sounds, with the unchecked terror swelling inside him, he knew he'd go mad in no time. (p.142)

He's quiet, and doesn't like to talk about himself or ask people questions, and he's so shy and bashful that he couldn't find the nerve to approach me, so he pretended to be a client. (p.147)

A chronic case, with a powerful drive to destroy herself. Maybe she wants me to kill her, he thought, staring at the scars on her wrist, and feeling his heartbeat quicken again. Maybe she's just waiting for me to pull out the knife. (pp.148-149)

He'd be nothing more than a tool for her. (p.150)

Maybe I'm falling in love... Falling in love with him. Because he didn't do anything . Didn't try to do anything. (p.154)

I hate it, but I never have the power to stop it, so it must be something I really need. This rage that makes me want to destroy everything I see - all the people and things, and myself too, burn everything down to the ground. I must need it. But why would a person need something like that? (p.156)

The thought frightened her, and she decided to mix some Halcion into his soup. (p.157)

The girl was washing the bowl meticulously, using only very hot water - no soap - to scrub off the grease and residue. She'd hold the bowl up to the light as if peering through it, and when she spotted the slightest blemish she'd start all over again. (p.159)

Insults were the calling cards of hostility. And only violent rage gave her the courage it took to stand up to the hostility all around her. Rage alone could show you the way to action. (p.165)

Chiaki took aim at his droopy-lidded eyes and slammed the can opener down. My name isn't Yoko. She heard the stainless steel meet the bone of the eye socket, a sound like a shovel crunching into frozen earth. (pp.165-166)

Don't say you're sorry, no matter how much it hurts. If you apologize you'll only be beaten harder. (p.166)

You will not have lost if you can look her right in the eyes. (p.167)

Asking for help is wrong. Because there isn't any such thing as help in this world. (p.170)

Here's the secret. You have to believe. If you even think it might hurt, even a little, you won't succeed. You musn't doubt, for even one second, that all the pain will be gone. (p.172)

The man who'd whispered softly in her ear as she bit his finger and the man who'd waited for her outside the hospital in the freezing cold and the man who'd bound her wrists so tightly and wanted to cut her Achilles tendons, were all the same person... You didn't get the sense that this man was two or more different people. And that made him unique. (p.180)

Whenever the dark side of a man revealed itself, it always felt to Chiaki as if he'd turned into someone else entirely, and only sex seemed to help counteract the disillusionment and despair. (p.181)

Chiaki believed that if you chose something painful, accepted the pain and left something beautiful behind on your body as a result, you got stronger. (p.183)









Ayoko na uli magbasa. Magbasa ng ganitong libro. Nakakarimarim.

Japanland: A Year in Search of Wa (Karin Muller)

Nabuwang ako in a somewhat positive kind of way. Ha-ha!

Cynical ako nung umpisa. Banatan ba naman ng ganito sa unang paragraph:

I remember turning twenty-one in a squatter's village on a remote island in the Philippines...

Hindi ako sanay magbasa ng ganitong tipo (lalo't documentary) pero nagustuhan ko ang paraan ng pagkakasulat. Suwabe ang daloy ng pagkukuwento.

Higit sa lahat, nagimbal ang mundo ko. Kinailangan ko i-deviate ang sarili ko sa pag-iisip ng kung anu-ano na namang kaviolahan. Inabot ng tatlong araw na sumpong. Hindi siya masaya.

Para takasan ang nobela, kinailangan kong magbasa ng ibang magaang nobela. Nyahaha!

Sa bandang huli, panibagong aral na naman ang napulot sa buhay ng may buhay.

Nagiging mosaic na ako sa mga hiram na pananaw.

I was wrong about them: their conformity to the system is not a sign of weakness, but rather a great inner strength. (Karin, p.300)

If you want to live in Japan for a long time, then you must be reborn. You must forget everything you know and everything you believe in, and start over. You must value age and experience over book learning. You must do as you're told and blank your mind to any other thoughts. You cannot feel resentment against the system, not even for a single moment. You cannot demand fairness or equality, or even hope for it. You must learn to believe in a society that is based on hierarchy. It is a completely different way of thinking, of living, of being. If you do not accept it utterly, into your soul, then you will not survive. (Roberto, pp.66-67)

The Historian (Elizabeth Kostova)

Para siyang Tourist Travel Guide. Gusto ko tuloy makarating ng Europe bago ako mamatay!

Choke (Chuck Palahniuk)

Hindi perfect 5 ang ibinigay ko dahil nauna kong nabasa (at natapos) ang Rant. Sa aking pagmumuni-muni nabuo ang aking agam-agam na hinango ni MASTER Chuck ang ilang bahagi ng Rant sa Choke (at para sa kaalaman ng lahat, ang Choke ay mas naunang nailimbag).

Sa Choke, ipinalabas na ang bida ay napaniwalang siya ang bagong Jesus Christ. Nabanggit ang tungkol sa Holy Trinity ng mapagpanggap na si Dr. Paige. Ika nito kay Victor, "You are your mother's husband", na siya ring paksain sa Rant.

Parehong may pagka-futuristic ang dating ng dalawang libro.

Kung sa Choke, si Dr. Paige ay isang robot sa panahong 2032 (yata?) na bumalik lamang sa kasalukuyang panahon para magsagawa ng eksperimento, sa Rant naman ay nabanggit ang time machine at sang-ayon sa kwento ng Historian, si Rant ay nabuo sa pamamagitan ng orihinal na Rant na kanyang sariling lolo sa tuhod. Mula nanay hanggang lola ng nanay ni Rant, walang nakilalang asawa ang bawat isa sa kanila sa kadahilanang iisa ang Rant, ang tanging source ng sperm (something like that).

Basta, pag si MASTER Chuck ang nagsulat, out of this world. Hindi mo mapipigilang matangay sa kanyang kawirduhan.

"I do not know how you call it. EXTREME was the first word that came to my mind." (Viola Flies, ripped)

4 STARS lang ang binigay ko dahil sa pahuling bahagi ng kwento, parang minadali ang pangyayari. OK yung tampok na bahagi pero pagdating sa kakalasan, parang kulang. hindi ako na-convince sa agad na pagbabagong pinakita ni Victor sa pagyakap niya sa paniniwalang siya nga ang bagong Jesus Christ pagkatapos ay matutuklasan niyang niloko lang siya ni Dr. Paige. Napailing din ako nang aminin ni Dr. Paige na isa siyang robot na nabubuhay sa panahong 2032 (yata?).

"I do not know how you call it. PREMATURE was the first word that came to my mind." (-Viola Flies, ripped)

Ayun. Parang ganun yung dating nung part ng story saken. (Or was it just with me? Whatever.)

SIDENOTE: I was so captivated by the cover design.

****

AAAAAARGHHH! bakit ba ako infested ng mga books-turn-into-flicks?!

"Choke, the film, will be in movie theaters on Sept. 26, 2008." Blah blah blah.

Go google the trailer.

'Nyeta. Bakit ang tatanda na ng mga gaganap. Ayoko. Ayoko manood. Mas maganda ang nasa imagination ko.

Major

(Title inspired by the Sugarcult's Majoring in Minor. A personal favorite.)

I am absolutely sure that what I've finished in college is a degree in Reading. Leisurely reading to be exact. Major in Young Adult (Teens) fiction. Minor in Philippine literature. Specialization? I'm not sure. Perhaps voracious...? Or speed reading?

***

I made an inventory of all my books for the last four years of my existence, my so-called college life. As of last night, I counted a total of 164 books --- 135 of which are international publications in paperback and hardbound, with varied genre but mostly Young Adult (Teens) fiction and the remaining 39, locally published.

Of these 164 collected books, 46 were "untouched" (i.e. unread and/or unfinished) leaving the remaining 118 books appreciated and were therefore, read and finished with utmost pleasure within four years.

I also made an inventory of the books I borrowed either from the school library or from my sister's shelf, still within the four-year span. I recalled about 26 books, in international and local paperbacks, with different genres, but mostly again, YA fiction. Some of these I've reread a couple of times but I did the counting per title only. In addition to the 26 books, I also included as the 27th "not owned but read" book the special case of Stephenie Meyer's Eclipse which I've read as a soft copy (a pdf file) directly from my laptop in one sitting (from late night 'til dawn).

All in all I read about 145 books (excluding rereads) during my entire four-year college life, with an annual reading rate of 36.25 books or roughly three (3.0208) books a month. Not bad. But I could have still done so much more. I mean, I could read about three books in a row. Well, not really in a day, though, if let's say, I started at night. But I could definitely finish the trio within 24 hours. Just like what I did with A Book Thief (Markus Zusak), A Note of Madness (Tabitha Suzuma), and Bloodline (Kate Cary). However, I started about halfway with A Book Thief so you might say I just finished 2 1/2 books. I need to mention then that I also started with Rant (Chuck Palahniuk). So there. I was simultaneously reading 4 books in a row during the boring week of attending to my school clearance and graduation stuffs.

***

Three days ago I sort of felt malaise. So that when night came, I fell sick. The next morning, I had to take pills. I stayed at home to rest and to get some really good long sleep. But before I fell into a slumber, I managed to pull out a random book from the shelf. I reread MacArthur (Bob Ong) and within an hour or so, I went back to the bookshelf and picked out Rich Dad, Poor Dad (____). I fall asleep thrice the entire day (the drug effect) so by the time I was finished with the book, it was already quite late at night, like 10 or 10:30. But I felt well. I daresay, the books healed me not the pills.

It's my soul that needs the feeding and not my system.

Yesterday, I had Rant for lunch. It was already 2 PM when i finished with the rubbish in my old cabinet. I announced (said outloud... it was typical of me) that I was already hungry but my mother seeing me clutch the book and about to go to my sister's room (i don't have my own room and i sleep on the floor of our tiny living room), prompted me, saying "I thought you said you were hungry?" to which i replied, "I am and I'm gonna eat these words" referring to the book I was carrying. And so at last, after three weeks in limbo, I managed to finish, and it's ANOTHER Chuck Palahniuk's (the most challenging writer), Rant by 6 PM.

Another achievement counted.

Chuck's books are the toughest, nerve-wrecking, nose-bleeding, gut-coiling I've encountered (so far?). The words are so vivid, you can actually see the description of whatever's in the plot inside your head. I can still remember how I almost threw up laughing or threw up totally grossed out while reading Haunted. Here in Rant, I nearly had goosebumps grossed out with Rant picking his nose and sticking the tiny, ball-like, black snot up his bedroom's ceiling when he was young. it was too gross to be true but i guess not improbable. And while I was nearing the end, I swear outloud (drove me out of control) reacting to one of the character's statement.

***

The idea of doing the inventory is primarily to free a generous space out of our tiny apartment by either selling or giving them away. Right now, my books are occupying the top shelves of the cabinet, my camping bag, old bags, and my luggage. If only I had so much money, I would bring them all with me. Sadly, the only options I got are: (1) to eliminate them (i.e., by selling or donating/throwing?!?) and (2) to move them to the old house where termites can in no time, feast on them.

Right now, it's breaking my heart to part with them. They are my only real treasures. Material treasures, that is. All characters, their stories, their dreams, their perspectives, are all equally precious to me. They all have become a significant part of me. I am all of them. A fusion, that is. It's the opposite case of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's or Tom Marvolo Riddle's horcruxes. Each book, I treated with tender loving care, not folding the book and avoiding as much as possible to create creases on the spine. And I am very extra careful when it comes to my hardbounds. I remove the jacket before I start reading, and I make sure my hands are clean before I remove the jacket. I guess, those people whom I've lend can attest to the excellent condition of my books.

..Which reminds me suddenly of this particular book, a favorite of mine, that has passed on to several hands and unfortunately met its sorry state. I couldn't help but feel like a mother robbed of her dear daughter just to be reunited later on (but sadly) in a living nightmare. Tell me, how does a mother of a rape victim feel?

But I have to rid myself of useless sentiments. I should use my brain and not my heart so as to think and act properly.

I need to be practical.

I was opting to sell the books online - in ebay or Amazon, for example. But even before I could take action, I was already disheartened by my sister. Said, I would never sell. I considered her thought. She has a point. Who in the world would want to buy a secondhand book at this time in life where everyone's indulging in temporary oblivion to alleviate suffering and stuff through marketable gadgets and goodies... I was kidding myself. Nobody would buy my books. Maybe there would be one or a few, perhaps... but the question is, when? In how many years? Ages hence. When I'm already dead? I should have sold them earlier in Booksale stalls owned by the Manongs and Kuyas along the AS walk while I was still in school. Darn. I could have earned some dough and buy myself a bottle of vodka.

So now I was toying with the idea of donating. Donating and NOT giving away/throwing (?!?). My mother was explicitly stating she's gonna give them away to the kariton boys as soon as I leave the house.

I wish I could donate these books to the Main Library. To the Library Science Library, perhaps, where they have these Home-reading section with sadly, few and old (and some are already torn) books. Maybe my books could stack these shelves up.

***

Actually, my hidden agenda doing this elaborate inventory involving figures and average reading is to impress Stefan.

Letters From The Earth (Mark Twain)

Describing the people on Earth and the way they live... from Satan's POV.

Naglalaman ng labing-isang liham ni Satan kina archangel Gabriel and Michael.

Very insightful.

Amusing.

Panalo ka, Satan. Prangka kung prangka. Walang sinisino. Si God talaga ang kinalaban. Ang tapang mo, p're.

An angel banished from the Heaven because of his boldness in questioning God's creation.

Sana kasingtapang mo rin ako. Matagal ko nang tinitira ang mundo pero walang bisa dahil nasa loob ako. Wala na rin akong pinagkaiba sa mga traydor/kontrabida/hypocrites. Kung pwede lang sana makatakas palabas. Paano ba makalaya?

Kung si Rizal, sabi nga ng yumao kong paboritong propesor, e karapat-dapat lang barilin sa Bagumbayan dahil sa kanyang mga nobela, para sa akin si Satan ay karapat-dapat lamang na i-banish dahil sa kanyang angking dunong at talas ng isip. Mapapa-oo ka naman nga talaga sa mga argumento niya e. Ang husay ng mga ebidensya't paliwanag. Walang binatbat ang mga propagandista.

Salamat sa'yo Twain, kami naman ngayon ang nasa center stage... Here goes the Quotable Quotes!

(typhoid fever) "...a malady which, when the circumstances are especially favorable, is able to utterly wreck a patient without killing him; for it can restore him to his feet with a long life in him, and yet deaf, dumb, blind, crippled, and idiotic. The housefly is its main disseminator, and is more competent and more calamitously effective than all the other distributors of the dreaded scourge put together."

"Constipation, O constipation,
The joyful sound proclaim
Till man's remotest entrail
Shall praise its Maker's name"

"but death was sweet, death was gentle, death was kind; death healed the bruised spirit and the broken heart, and gave them rest and forgetfulness; death was man's best friend; when man could endure life no longer, death came and set him free." (p.46)

"...so God created the Hell."

Eto astig gamiting signature. Saktong-sakto.

"And then, there were the flies. They swarmed everywhere, and persecuted the Family all day long. They were the first animals up, in the morning, and the last ones down, at night. But they must not be killed, they must not be injured, they were sacred, their origin was divine, they were the special pets of the Creator, his darlings."

Sugod mga langaw!

Yeehaaaaa!

Hannibal (Thomas Harris)

Hindi pa ako tapos. Wala pa nga yata sa kalahati pero shemay nagsisimula nang tumingkad ang kwento. Simula na ng aksyon. At two thumbs up na agad ako.

Ang mga namatay (so far): Gnocco, Renaldo Pazzi, at Matteo.

Ang "whoa!" ng pagpatay kay Gnocco: sirit ang dugo mula sa femoral artery. Swabe talaga. Buong akala ni Gnocco (at napaniwala niya rin ako), "he (Hannibal) almost hit me in my balls". Ayun, mas malala pa pala.

"Dramatic" naman ang pagpatay kay Pazzi. Kkung paanong nagbigti ang kanyang ninuno 500 years ago, ganun din siya pinatay ni Hannibal. "Bowels in or bowels out?" And at the very exact location pa, in the museum (or was it in Palazzo?).

"Typical gore" yung kay Matteo. Puro slash sa buong katawan --- mukha, tiyan, braso, etc. Pero hindi masyado umappeal saken.

THE QUOTE THAT MADE ME FALL FOR HANNIBAL (my "hanni"-lab-so-sweet) XD

His ego, like his intelligence quota, and the degree of his rationality, is not measurable by conventional means. (p.136)

FUNNIEST QUOTE I'VE READ SO FAR (ka-level nito ang katatawanan sa Haunted ni Chuck P.)

Mason Verger, noseless and lipless, with no soft tissue on his face, was all teeth, like a creature of the deep, deep ocean. (p.57)

THE KILIG-TO-THE-BONE QUOTE (Isn't this sweet?!)

He told me once that, whenever it was 'feasible,' he preferred to eat the rude. 'Free-range rude,' he called them. (pp.87-88)

THE QUOTE THAT MADE ME THINK

How do you behave when you know the conventional honors are dross? (p.142)

THE BEST QUOTE SO FAR (gusto ko'ng gawing motto 'to)

The worm that destroys you is the temptation to agree with your critics, to get their approval.

Self-Proclaimed No.1 (Phenomenal) Fan ni Stephenie Meyer

Cirque du Freak Books 2 & 4 tsaka Silence of the Lambs ang hawak ko sa pila sa Powerbooks Mega-A kagabi pero dahil nakita ko ang mukha ni Stephenie Meyer sa cover ng READ (Official Powerbooks' Magazine) na nasa counter, bumalik ako sa mga bookshelf para isoli ang mga nasabing libro. Makalipas ang ilang minuto, bumalik rin ako sa Teen Fic section para pumili ng isang hardbound na libro na garantisadong magpapaabot sa quota na minimum of 1k to get the magazine for free!

Isinakripisyo ko ang Silence of the Lambs. Tutal naman, pwede ko naman ito mabili sa mga Booksale. Tsaka hindi aabot sa quota, sayang naman kung bibilhin ko yung magazine. P95 din 'yun. Gusto ko lang naman alamin ang balita tungkol sa Twilight quadrilogy ('Langya buong akala ko talaga trilogy lang 'to).

Wala rin naman masyadong bago. Nabasa ko na karamihan ng impormasyon sa website niya.

Bago ko damputin yung Rash, pinagpilian ko sina Chuck Palahniuk, Kurt Vonnegut, at Joyce Carol Oates. Tinangka ko ring hanapin si Sergei Lukyanenko para sana makumpleto ko na ang Nightwatch trilogy kaso walang Twilight Watch. Wala ring masyadong interesanteng libro sa Teen Fics section. 'Yung Rash, kasabayan pa ng Freshman ni Michael Gerber na binabalik-balikan ko noon sa NBS-North Edsa, dalawang taon na ang nakararaan. Yung huli, binili ko. Itong Rash kumbaga, wala naman sa Hotlist. Kagabi, nag-skim ako. Futuristic ang kwento. Pero ayoko muna basahin.

Sana makumpleto ko ang Cirque du Freak. Five MORE volumes to go!

Kwento Ng Aking Maikling Kwento

Ayokong mamatay na mediocre.

Sabi nga sa Nightwatch: "Wine is good for the heart, vodka is for the soul."

Hindi lang sa droga nasusugapa ang tao. Pwede rin sa alak o sa libro.

Kung pagsabayin kaya ang pagkasugapa sa vodka at libro, anong mangyayari?

Kanina pa rin sa pagbabasa ng Nightwatch, nandaya ako. Tumalon ako sa huling pahina. Nakasulat doon ang palugit nang ginawa ni Lukyanenko ang libro: January to August.

Gagayahin ko ito sa aking project: November 1 - December 1. Pero iba ang kwento sa palugit na ito DAHIL November 1 ko ginawa ang kabuuan ng kwento. Pagkatapos ay kinalimutan ko na ito at hinarap ang buhay sa loob at labas ng iskwelahan. At kanina bago ko pa man maidilat ang aking mga mata mula sa pananaginip sa nagdaang gabi, naalala ko, "SHIT! December 1 na pala ngayon. Deadline ng aking kwento." Kaya December 1, saka ko muling hinalungkat ang file ng aking kwento sa hard disk at isinagawa ang final editing.

November 1 - December 1. Ang dalawang tanging araw na tinrabaho ko ang project. Ang dash (-) nagpapatunay na ito'y sadyang puwang lamang talaga. As in, BLANK.

Kahapon narating ko na ang kalahati ng Daywatch. Gumawa ako ng malaking desisyon na huwag ito isilid sa aking backpack dahil hindi pa ako handang tapusin ang kuwento ng second installment samantalang hindi ko pa naaangkin ang una sa trilohiya. Pero siyempre, makalipas ang ilang oras naibili ko ang sarili ko ng Nightwatch, na sinimulan ko rin kaagad.

***

Trilohiya. Nakakaloko ang mga trilohiyang na-e-encounter ko. Nakakagago, pero gusto ko.

'Yung Twilight trilogy ni Stephenie Meyer, may 4th book na next year.

'Yung Maximum Ride ni James Patterson, may 4th book na rin next year.

Kaya baka pagkatapos din ng Twilight Watch, meron na ring 4th installment si Lukyanenko.

***

Usung-uso na ngayon ang raket na book-to-film. Lalabas na rin next year pati ang sa Twilight at Maximum Ride. Nakakainis manood pag nabasa mo na ang libro, unless na hindi ka manood. Pwede sigurong hindi nga ako manood. Problema ko na yun. Pero mas nakakainis na magustuhan mo ang pelikulang hinango sa libro nang hindi man lang nababasa ang libro. Ang phony, tae. Kaya hindi ko magawang panoorin ang Beowulf. Gaya ng nangyari sa Eragon. Hindi ko natapos ang libro. Na-spoil na ng pelikula. Wala, ayawan na. Bukbukin ka na diyan sa bookshelf.

***

Pinaghahandaan ko ngayon ang Cirque du Freak series marathon para sa Christmas break.

***

Ayoko muna ma-infect ng rabies sa Rant ni Chuck. Kailangan ng ibayong pagsasanay at sapat na lakas para basahin si Chuck. Na-drain ang reserves ko nang mapagtagumpayan ko ang Haunted. Kaya sa summer ko na lang ito babasahin. Hindi pa pwede ngayon.

***

Target ko rin ang Hannibal series. Siguro pagkatapos ng Rant, sa summer din.

***

Hay naku masama ito. Panay plano na naman ako. Pag namatay ako mamaya, wala na.

Haunted (Chuck Palahniuk), Ikalawang Basa

Masaya rin pala magbasa ng libro nang hindi agad natatapos. O marahil, masaya lang talaga basahin si Chuck.

Si Chuck Palahniuk ay isang henyo. Hindi lang siya mahusay maghabi ng kwento. Magaling din siya lumikha ng brutal na scenario at higit sa lahat, marami siyang alam sa Anatomy. Gusto ko ngang isipin na isa siyang biologist. O dating Biology major.

Paborito ko si Saint Gutless kasi pinakanakakatawa yung kwento niya. Nakakadiri kasi kaya nakakatawa. Nakakatawa kasi napagkamalan niyang isang ahas-tubig (nasa ilalim siya ng swimming pool) ang sarili niyang intestine na lumabas sa kanyang pwet nang mahigop ng suction pump at siya'y nagpumiglas. Die now or die later. Kinagat niya ang sarili niyang intestine para hindi malunod sa swimming pool. Nareduce to a mere six inches ang intestine niya consequence ng kanyang kalibugan. Pero dahil dito marami siyang alam tungkol sa problema sa digestive system. AT digestive system ang paborito kong organ system! Pinakaayaw ko ang nervous system...it's getting on my nerves.

Comrade Snarky: “I just fainted.”
Comrade Snarky: “I fainted…and you ate my ass?”
Comrade Snarky: “You fed me my own ass?”

I was laughing for nearly two minutes when I came to that page. I mean, really, I was laughing with all my might. It wasn’t the same laugh I had whenever I watch TV or when somebody’s throwing some pun or when I crack an uber corny joke. It was a laugh that felt so good.

So good that it became bothering.

In the story, they thought she was dead, so Chef Assassin scraped her rose-tattooed ass and fried it like bacon, so greasy (yum!). And while they were feasting, Comrade Snarky came descending from the stairs, smelled the meat, and had some helping. But she didn’t like the taste. In fact, she said it was “tough and bitter”. Her own ass. In this very awkward situation, somebody has to say something. Saint Gutless commented that it tasted “quite delicious”. Comrade Snarky, she didn’t realize she was eating her own ass until she felt a knife dug on her from behind and squatting down saw her footprints of blood. Her very own footprints. The blood dripping from her scraped ass.

Disturbingly funny.

Not that I laughed at every cannibalism part. I didn’t laugh when they stewed Miss America and the fetus in her womb. Nor when Director Denial ate Mrs. Clark’s left leg. Especially not when the Missing Link choked to death after swallowing the Matchmaker’s penis cleaved off by the Reverend Godless.



None so far has been as compelling as the novel Haunted.

Angela's Ashes (Frank McCourt)

Kasalukuyan kong tinutuloy ang pagbabasa ng Angela's Ashes ni Frank McCourt. Ang librong ito para sa akin ay hindi katulad ng mga librong nauna at tipikal kong binabasa dahil:

1. Obviously, ito ay isang Pulitzer Prize awardee.

2. Ito ay isang memoir.

3. Hindi ako nagmamadaling tapusin ang libro gaya ng usual rabid reading style ko, partikular sa mga young adult fiction.

4. Sa pagbabasa, gusto kong maiyak at matawa nang sabay pero alam kong imposible gawin yun kaya nananahimik na lamang ako na maipagkakamaling walang reaksyon.

5. Hindi ako nakakarelate sa kwento dahil hindi ako lumaki sa panahon ng krisis (Great Depression) at kung nakaranas man noon ng hirap ang aking pamilya, hindi ko naramdaman dahil wala pa akong muwang. Basta't ang tiyak ko, lumaki akong isa nang spoiled brat.

Napulot ko ang ideya na basahin ang librong ito dahil na rin sa curiosity nang mabalitaan ko mula sa isang kakilala matagal na panahon na ang lumipas (siguro mga isa't kalahating taon na ang nakararaan) na naghahambing sa istilo ng pagsusulat ni Bob Ong kay Ginoong McCourt sa kanyang memoir.

Rant-at-at-at: Mga Kwentong Libro

My Top 15 Favorite Books

15. Nancy Drew Mystery Stories - Carolyn Keene
Crush ko si Ned. Submissive kay Nancy. Bibihira ‘ata ang ganon.

14. The Crazed - Ha Jin
Dito nanggaling ang deskripsyon ng aking Friendster blog:

“Useless scholar and lifeless bookworm”

Binasa ko ‘to ng April 2007. First day of summer class sa Physics. Lecture room. Sa likuran ako nakaupo, sa tabi ng aisle. ‘Yung nakaupo sa kabila ng aisle, bigla na lang tinawag ang aking pansin at hiniling na makita ang libro. Ang libro ko. Ang librong binabasa ko? Sinenyas ko. Tumango siya. "Oo." Iniabot ko naman bagamat may pag-aalinlangan at buong pagtataka. "Maganda ba?" Aba. At talagang nahiwagaan ako sa kanya. "A, oo. Oo, maganda." Buong pagmamalaki ko bagamat hindi pa ako umabot sa kalahati. Binuklat-buklat niya ito. Pagkatapos, tiningnan niya ang likuran. "Ha-jin," bigkas niya. "Koreano?" Tanong niya. Natanga ako. "Ha? A, hindi yata. Parang Chinese." "Oo. Chinese nga." Pagliliwanag niya. Makaraan pa ang dalawang minuto, sinoli niya na at nagpasalamat. Napangiti ako. Hindi ko inaasahang may mga tao pa rin palang interesado sa non-textbook ng kapwa nila. Lalo’t hindi naman magkakilala. Sa loob-loob ko, nakanang may crush yata saken ‘to.

13. Veronika Decides To Die - Paulo Coelho
Nang mga panahong binasa ko ang librong ito, nag-aalanganin pa ako sa stand ko sa radikalismo at resistance to conformity kaya laking ginhawa ko nang matapos ko ito.

12. Sleepers - Lorenzo Carcaterra
Napabago nito ang pagtingin ko sa mga awtoridad. Mula nang basahin ko ‘to, nawalan na ako nang tiwala at pagkilala sa kanila.

11. The Devil Wears Prada - Lauren Weisberger
Matapos kong basahin ito, nagsimula ako mangarap na maging contributor sa isang magasin o columnist sa isang pahayagan.

10. Harry Potter series - J. K. Rowling
Ang pitong libro nito’y lahat regalo sa akin ng mga kapatid ko, kung hindi sa birthday, christmas. Ang Book 1 ang pinakaunang libro ko sa hayskul. Pinakagusto ko ang Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

9. Etsa-Puwera - Jun Cruz Reyes
Naintimidate siguro ako sa kapal ng libro nito kaya nakailang failed attempt ako. Isang mahaba-habang kasaysayang buhay. Anti-kolonyalismo. Pro-katutubo. Sa mga ganitong akda, lalo akong napapamahal sa bayan ko.

8. The Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
Binasa ko ‘to para malaman ang katotohanan. Kung copycat si Rizal (hindi!) o hindi sa kanyang El Fili. Buti na lang at naging objective ako kaya nasagip ko pa ang aking dignidad. Habang binabasa ko ng librong ito, pakiramdam ko napakabuti ko. At napakaromantiko. Tungkol sa nobility. Dapat siguro’y ulit-ulitin kong basahin ang librong ito nang sa gayon ay parating maaliwalas at magaan ang aking pakiramdam. Baka sakaling hindi na ako muli pang magiging malungkot.

7. Hard Love - Ellen Wittlinger
Two teenagers. Both passionate with writing. Together they met and went on a journey to the writing camp of some sort. Guy falls in love with girl. Only, the guy is straight and the girl is lesbian. The wonderful thing is that, in the end, love lost. The girl ran away with another lesbian to NY. The guy returns to his hometown alone. Novel isn’t it? Not your typical and-they-lived-happily-ever-after kind of story. Favorite quotes:

“I want to escape from inside the person my parents have tried to manufacture.”

“Why not? Sleep less.”

“They’re not like those some trashy songs you probably listen to in the radio.”

6. Twilight trilogy - Stephenie Meyer
Vampire-human-wolf love triangle. Human girl falls in love with vampire. Abstained vampire couldn’t resist the smell of the sweetest blood of the human girl. Human girl also an accident-magnet. Gorgeous vampire falls wrongly in love with human girl. Human girl wants to become vampire. Enters the Wolf boy with a story as ancient as I don’t know what on the truce between vampires and wolves. To break the truce, vampire has to kill a human, and the wolf will automatically, in turn, kill the vampire. In conclusion, Bella is the conflict. I wonder what would happen next. A fourth book is set to be released on Fall 2008. Regardless, only one thing matters. Edward is so irresistibly beautiful.

5. Maximum Ride trilogy - James Patterson
Six transgenic humans. Half-avian. Winged mutants. Each with different and unique skills. Together they fought to escape the School.

Fine. Crush ko si Fang.

4. Sa Mga Kuko ng Liwanag - Edgardo M. Reyes
Sayang at hindi na namin nagawang talakayin ito sa klase noon sa Humanidades (Summer 2005). Hindi ko na rin ito nagawan ng book review for bonus points. Nag-aalab ang aking damdamin nang mga oras na iyon at hindi ako makapag-concentrate. Saka sa takot na rin na baka hindi ko mabigyan ng justice ang napaka-rare at novel na damdaming sumibol kaya hindi na ako nagpumilit pa. Noong tinatayo pa lamang ang pundasyon ng Tri-noma, tumitindig ang balahibo ko dahil naaalala ko ang mga pangyayari sa librong ‘to. Pati na rin noong ginagawa pa lang ang mini-skyway papuntang Batangas City Port. Basta sa tuwing nakakakita ako ng construction worker. Halong emosyon ng pagkaawa at pagkamuhi. Kung babasahin ang aking mukha, nakapinta nang pulang-pula at in bold letters pa ang anti-imperyalismo.

3. The Foretelling - Alice Hoffman
Feminismo. Poetic ang dating sa akin ng mga salita. Para akong “high” nang binabasa ko ito. Ang ganda ng narration. Mahusay ang description. Dito naramdaman ko ang pag-ibig. Favorite and THE BEST ROMANTIC quote:

“I know I cannot have you. So I’ll take a brother instead.”

Magkaibang tribo. Amazona at nomad.

2. Mercy, Unbound - Kim Antieau
Hardcore ‘tong YA fic na ‘to. Isang linggo akong na-derange at nagskip ng meals. Mga di-malilimutang araw na dalawang yogurt lang buong araw ang kinakain. Bigla akong nawalan nang gana. Lumitaw ang panibagong anyo ng depression. Nang maliwanagan ako sa tulong ng isang may mabuting pusong nagmalasakit, dinner ang kauna-unahan kong naging meal. Dito rin nagsimula ang konsepto ko ng liver advocacy, kaugnay na rin ng diskusyon sa metabolism sa kinukuha ko noong Biochemistry class. Sa simula kasi, aakalain mong childish lang ‘yung bida. May problema sa pagkain yung bata. Hindi kumakain. Buto’t balat na. Namumutla na. Isa raw kasi siyang anghel. Ako naman, hala sige tuloy lang ang basa. Kaya nga leisurely reading. Pagdating sa hulihan, nagkabukuhan na. Nagbreakdown pala ‘yung bata sa sobrang pag-iisip. Hindi kinaya ang sari-saring problema at isyu sa buong mundo na ikinukwento ng kanyang magulang. Traumatized. Naghanap ng escape. Naisip ang ideya ng isang anghel. Bakit hindi? Hindi na lamang siya isang tinedyer na walang binatbat. Sa pagiging anghel maililigtas niya ang sangkatauhan. Ang husay ng istilo sa pagpasok ng twist. Nagkabuhul-buhol ang utak ko.

1. The Catcher in the Rye - J.D. Salinger
Ito ang pinakaunang libro ko sa kolehiyo. Unang pahina pa lang, na-love-at-first sight na ako. Kaya hindi na ako nagdalawang-isip na bilhin ito. Ganito ang naging reaksyon ko habang nagbabasa: Sarili ko, ikaw ba ‘yan? Lalaki nga lang? Nagmistulang bibliya ng aking buhay. Ang pinaghugutan ko ng lakas para paglingasin ang aking angst. Apat na beses ko ito binasa. Paboritong quotes:

“Who wants flowers when you’re dead? Nobody.”

“You’re a student whether the idea appeals to you or not.”

“I talk loud whenever I get excited.”

Magic word: phony.

Paint it Black (Janet Fitch)

The last thing I wanna do is think, so spare my language inconsistency.

Isang obra. Mahusay na prosa.

Mapusok.

Si Michael Faraday ang pinakadisturb na karakter na na-encounter ko so far. Para siyang adult version ni Craig. Mas malala. Sa totoo lang hindi ko mabigyang-hatol ang kanyang karakter. Sa isang banda, nakuha niya ang aking simpatya hinggil sa kanyang malalim na pag-unawa sa buhay at ang kanyang pangarap na pamumuhay nang may kapayakan. Hindi lamang matalino, marunong din. Pinatunayan niya, at naalala ko na namang muli sa Jojo Boy ng Utos ng Hari, na hindi sukatan ng pagkatao ang pagiging isang drop-out, lalo’t sa ikahuling taon niya sa Harvard siya umalis. Ninais niyang pumakawala sa anino ng kanyang ama na isang writer at sa mga ekspektasyon ng kanyang concert pianist na ina. Sinubukan niyan maging pintor, sa kabila ng pangarap sa kanya ng kanyang ina na maging art critic. Nakipag-live-in siya kay Josie at namuhay sila in a Bohemian way. Simple. Tahimik. Ideyal. Napakarami niyang naibahaging ideya at kaalaman kay Josie, at dito ako humanga sa kanyang karakter. Kaya naman hindi na ako nagtataka kung bakit ganoon na lamang ang pagbreakdown ni Josie sa kanyang pagpapakamatay. Isang perpektong nilalang na umibig sa isang nobody with nothing. Siguro dahil na rin sa sobrang pag-iisip at matinding konsensya ni Michael kaya siya napasubo sa pagpapatiwakal. Para siyang si Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde na hindi. Hindi simultaneous ang kanyang pagpapalit-katauhan at hindi rin malinaw kung aling yugto (pre-Josie at post-Josie) ng kanyang buhay siya naging Dr. Jekyll at kung kelan naging Mr. Hyde. Pero ang sigurado ay naging monster siya in the end. At ito ang sumaklot sa kanya at naghatid sa kanya sa huling hantungan. Sa pre-Josie, tuta siya ng kanyang Ina. Nang makilala niya si Josie binago niya ang kanyang buong pagkatao. Humabi ng bagong kwentong malayung-malayo sa kanyang sariling kasaysayan. Sa madaling salita, at umaayon ako kay Josie sa puntong ito, panay kasinungalingan at pagbabalatkayo ang humarap, nagpakilala, at umibig kay Josie. Kaya dapat lang na halos mabaliw si Josie habang pinagtatagpi-tagpi ang mga pangyayari that led to his suicide.

Josephine “Josie” Tyrell is a bitch with a character. Ang downside lang sa kanyang karakter ay ang kanyang matinding bisyo sa alak, droga, at sigarilyo. Self-proclaimed addict. Ito ang kanyang paraan ng pagtakas. Subalit sa huling bahagi ng naratibo, nagawa niyang harapin ang bangungot sa kanyang buhay. To get over Michael and start anew. Dulot ng kaibhan ng cultural background kung kaya’t bias ang pagtingin ko sa kanyang karakter. Bawat eksena niya, kung hindi siya bangag, lasing at panay ang hithit ng kanyang Galoise. Ganoon siya madepress. Sa gulang na labinsiyam, araw-araw siyang umiinom at nagyoyosi samantalang nagtatrabaho. TO BE CONTINUED

Favorite quotes/lines:

She had never met anyone as lonely as Michael. Lonely, and despising his own loneliness, disdaining the crowd while hoping for connection.

(ehem..ehem..*harap sa salamin*)

There was always someone to tell you what to do. It was only when you tried on your own that you got into trouble.

(screw that!)

Nature was always there, no matter what.

(Love nature, next to thy self)

A fish has no concept of water.

(A cactus has no concept of desert.

Nobody knew anyone else’s private world. In the end, they were all alone as inmates on death row, side by side. Sometimes you could get a look at one another with a little pocket mirror, cell to cell, but that was all.

(Alone is where the heart is. ---Emily Strange.)

She wasn’t thinking about the absurd or what the soul did after it died. She was thinking about clothing, about accessories, about shoes and earrings and hair.

(Minsan kapag nagiging mahina ako, hindi ko maiwasang hindi hilingin na sana hindi na lang ako natutong mag-isip. Para sunod lang sa agos ng mundo. Pero ayon nga sa Norse mythology, die fighting. Resist to the end!)

But she never chose to be ugly when she could be glamorous. There was no mystery to that, it was all right there and more than you wanted.

Man cannot stand very much reality.

(Kaya maraming tumatakas. Ako ba saan ako pupunta, sa sementeryo o sa mental... o sa gubat.)

Nothing that beautiful could live long. It wasn’t allowed. You only got a taste, enough to know what perfection meant, and then you paid for it the rest of your life. Like that guy chained to a rock, who stole fire. The gods made an eagle eat his liver for all eternity. You paid for every second of beauty you managed to steal.

(My dear Prometheus)

Just like life. Each person was like one line of music, but nobody knew what the symphony sounded like. Only the conductor had the whole score.

(Who is the conductor, the Creator or the Imperialist?)

They weren’t going to be like everyone else, they were Blaise and Jeanne, eating dreams and drinking blue sky.

(That's my vision... to eat dreams and drink blue sky and smoke full moon)

It’s what’s not there that’s most important.

These people, they picked you up and played with you and left you lying in the rain.

Punishment was swift.

They say time heals all wounds but they’re lying.

It was in her blood after all, how to wound and belittle, she’d grown up with it and now here it was, streaming out of her like gasoline…

It was a mistake you could never recover from. Though he pretended he had, he never did.

She was crying again. Oh God, oh God. Though there was no God. No rest, no beauty, no truth.

(Josie is a real pessimist. Except for vice.)

Tagged along, tried to fit in. she’d started as someone and became nothing at all.

(Social climbers have no place of their own. Ultimate squatters of the world. If I am Hades, i wouldn't even accept them.)

The brave thing was to admit it. To say, I have fucking had enough. To take the fucking gun and put it in your mouth and pull the trigger. I’m doing this, assholes, and it ain’t no accident. Look, here’s how. If you were going to do it, you should know that’s what you were doing. You eyes wide open.

(The wonder of suicide. You don't have to clean up your own mess. You leave it to them, the living.)

Like a sick dog, trying to find the farthest, most remote place to do his dying.

(Even in the most remote place, wherever I may be, as long as i die resisting, it'd be alright.)

Just as well, 4 was unlucky. Four was difficult and misunderstood, a genius before its time, it belonged to the planet of unexpected disaster.

(Was i four?)

That was how you did it. You let go, you left all that behind, you refused to remember. You let the dark in. You let your head become a ruined flower bed, overrun by rank growth, coarse and ugly as castor beans on a neglected hillside, monstrous and throbbing with cancerous life, the red and green poisonous leaves, the spiny testicles of its seedpods. Your black thoughts colonized you like a disease, the absence of faith most of all.

(The art of depression leading to suicide.)

Parallel lines met only at the vanishing point, that’s what they taught the baby artists.

(Parallel lines meet at infinity. --- MATH)

Who can judge another man’s suffering?

Down the passage which we did not take towards the door we never opened into the rose garden.

They have ladders that will reach further but no one will climb them.

To be or not to be… It’s the only question, really. Zero or one. Accept
or reject.

(Accept. To die resisting, that is.)

Death was bigger than anything. Bigger than love. Big as the universe. Death now or death later, that was the real question.

(Death is the only truth.)

The pain of living another day, and another after that.

(To live is to suffer, and the only solution to the problem of living is to suffer with courage. ---Norse teaching)

How long did you want to lie on that rock with life’s dirty bird chewing on your liver?

(Until my liver's all gone... suffer with courage 'til the end.)

Even if zero had taken over the entire universe, the biggest fascist of all, one tiny gesture could deny it. One footprint, one atom. You didn’t have to be a genius. You didn’t even have to know that was what you were doing. You made a mark. You changed something. It said, “A human being passed here.” And changed zero to one.

(The bigger the number of zeroes in your bank account, the more fascist you can be. Heehee)

Bagamat isang piksyon, hindi ko maiaalis ang pagpapatotoo sa aking agam-agam batay na rin sa mga mangilanngilang nabasa kong mga akda sa literaturang Filipino na ang mga artist higit sa sino pa man ang may pinakamatinding angst sa buhay. Hahaha!

Taranta

Tigok talaga ako sa exam kanina.

Nakupo ayoko mag-finals! Uwing-uwi na ako. Gusto ko na maglinis. Gusto ko na makalanghap ng sariwang hangin. Gusto ko nang maisakatuparan ang aking SEMPLANG (sembreak action plan) sa lalong madaling panahon.

Kaya ayoko na (sana) mag-finals sa 122.

Kasi naman. Wala sa plano na basahin ang Harry Potter Book 7. At lalong wala sa plano na tapusin ang libro AGAD. GAHD. Kaya tuloy wala nang mag-register sa utak kasi puro Accio! Expelliarmus! Lumos! Cruciatus! Avada Kedavra! Tapos limang minuto rin ang hindi sinasadyang ilaan sa pag-iisip kung kaninong anak si Victoire! Cousin...our cousin... Ron... Ginny... cousin...

ANAK NG VEELA! Kina Fleur at Bill. Whew.

Pero ang mas WHEW!

Scorpius?!??

Shame, what a name. I wonder who Draco's wife is. Oh well, tama nga ang corny ng kina Harry... James? Lily? Albus Severus?! Parang fairy tale, HAPPY ENDING...Ang saya, ang saya ng lintik. Habang ako sa exam kanina...sorry ending?

His Name is Guy

Last night, I managed to finish a short story from Nick Hornby's Speaking With The Angel. It's entitled, "Slave". I forgot who the author was. Anyway, I'm not familiar with him. The protagonist is called a "Guy". He's a mime artist. He's got two friends, both working on the corporeal world. He got himself a wife, and later on, two kids. Then they went short of money. His wife wanted him to work. He really loved being a mime artist. In the end, he worked for one of his friends, but he didn't give up his dream completely.

It made me feel nostalgic. He reminded me of my favorite author, and of myself and of my concept of dream, and of the world, and of life and of everything!

I fell asleep clouded with those thoughts.

Mrs. Heathcliff

"Were you asked to tea?"
"I shall be glad to have a cup," I answered.
"Were you asked?" she repeated.
"No," I said, half smiling.
"You are the proper person to ask me."

I wish I were like Mrs. Heathcliff. Frank. Bold. Extremely sarcastic.

"Mrs. Heathcliff," I said earnestly, "you must excuse me for troubling you. I presume, because, with that face, I’m sure you cannot help being good-hearted. Do point out some landmarks by which I may know my way home: I have no more idea how to get there than you would have how to get to London!"

"Take the road you came," she answered, ensconcing herself in a chair, with a candle, and the long book open before her. "It is brief advice, but as sound as I can give."

I burst out laughing last night. I think I like Wuthering Heights.

Dangerous Readings

Finished Ned's IKOAFS yesterday, the one I bought Thursday afternoon in Powerbooks when I was desperate over Stephenie's Eclipse, which was yet to be out in the local bookstores. Sigh.

One nice thing about reading is that you get to create your own image of the author, based on the way The Author writes, but most of the time, based on the story itself, especially if it's a first-person narration. Personally, I can't help but associate the character to The Author him/herself. That's how I've read Jun Cruz Reyes, my top favorite author, and that's how I've come to really like him.

Now, it's the same with Ned. "It's Kind Of A Funny Story" is his second novel which I've managed to read. The first one is "Teenage Angst...Naaah", which is sort of an autobiography. IKOAFS, is also, much more like of a nonfic. When I googled it, I found out that 85% of the story is real. Ned was actually admitted to a psychiatric hospital for five days because he really did want to kill himself which was exactly the same thing that happened to Craig Gilner, the 15-year-old Brooklynite protagonist.

I had a really bad headache after finishing the book. The nightmare of my Summer eve has once again haunted me. It felt like reading myself all over again, just less dramatic. The reasoning, the thoughts (Craig calls "the Cycling"), the way Craig answered, and even the questions asked by his psychologist... they're all similar.

So by the time I was halfway through the next book, Cirque du Freak: A Living Nightmare, I couldn't contain myself any longer. I've been totally distracted, and I felt like wanting to lie in my back again unmoving, and just stare at the ceiling for the rest of the day chasing my thoughts just like what Craig calls "the Cycling".

I've read a disturbing book but this isn't the first time. It ain't fun yet I feel the need to read one.

To get away from it, I only need to remember one thing: Everything is just happening in my brain.

Ang Hindi Required Readings

Achievement ang labrep sa Respiration kanina. Di biro ang dalawang araw (actually, isang maghapon at isang magdamag) na binata ko para ang supermegahabang labrep (13 pages, di pa kasama ang sandosenang graphs sa result) namin ay mapagkasya sa 10 pahina. Sampu.

Kaya naman ang resulta:

3/4 page from a 1 1/2-page methodology

3 3/4pages from a 7-page discussion

AND proud for the 2 1/4-page literature cited!

Siyempre during the process, hindi maiwasan ang pakiramdam ng pagkangarag, pagkalugaw ng utak, pag-ikot ng paningin, pagtanga sa screen, pagtingala sa kisame, pagtulog, pananaginip, at siyempre ang pagbabasa ng mga librong hindi required.

Sa loob ng tatlong araw na walang pasok, tatlo sa limang bagong librong nabili ko sa loob ng dalawang magkasunod na araw ang nilapa ng utak ko.

Yung una, nung biyernes mula alas nuwebe ng gabi hanggang alauna diyes ng umaga: The Secret Life of Sparrow Delaney.

Yung ikalawa, pagkatapos na pagkatapos ng naunang banggit na libro (pero hindi na kinaya ng labis na antok) na ipinagpatuloy ng sabado ng gabi at muling itinuloy pagkatapos ng ikatlong libro sa ibaba na binasa kagabi.

Yung ikatlo, The Realm of Possibility ni David Levithan (author of Boy Meets Boy) kagabi.

TRIVIA: Ang huling librong nabanggit ay hindi ko na pinakawalan sa aking mga kamay mula nang mahugot ko ito sa shelf ng Powerbooks dahil sa nabasang teaser na nasa likod ng libro:

My girlfriend is in love with Holden Caulfield.

Yung dalawang natitira, nakabalot pa.

Sa wakas, meron na ako ng unang libro ng Cirque du Freak series. Eleven books to go!

***

Bukas ay Agosto 7. Eclipse bukas. Bukas ay Eclipse. Eclipse bukas.

Kunwari oblivious ako sa deadline ng pitong summary ng pitong scientific journal articles.

Bukas ay Agosto 7. Eclipse bukas. Bukas ay Eclipse. Eclipse bukas.

Kunwari oblivious ako sa 116 lab exam sa huwebes.

Bukas ay Agosto 7. Eclipse bukas. Bukas ay Eclipse. Eclipse bukas.

Kunwari oblivious ako sa 196 seminar ko next Thursday.

Bukas ay Agosto 7. Eclipse bukas. Bukas ay Eclipse. Eclipse bukas.

Kunwari oblivious ako sa nalalapit na 2nd exam ng 150 lecture.

Bukas ay Agosto 7. Eclipse bukas. Bukas ay Eclipse. Eclipse bukas.

Kunwari oblivious ako sa deadline ng detailed capsule proposal.

Bukas ay Agosto 7. Eclipse bukas. Bukas ay Eclipse. Eclipse bukas.

Kunwari oblivious na oblivious ako.

Bulong ko sa sarili ko, "Shit. Andaming gagawin."

Sabi ng utak ko, "Pakamatay ka na lang."

Sagot ko naman, "Ano ako, bale?"

STRATEGIES: Bawal ma-stress. Bawal magkasakit. Bawal mag-isip. Relax ka lang. Read a good book. Wash your hands. Use alcohol. Eat at McDonalds.

The best advice I could give myself: When in doubt, sleep.