7.22.2003
July 22, 2003 || 1:29 amRagnarok's got me addicted. So here I am squeezing this entry while playing, while waiting for my character to heal fully. It takes a goddamned awfully long time. I have to be a hunter before the pay for play kicks in. Want to get an RO fix, go here.
So I was floored by 28 Days Later. Seriously. I loved it. Restored my faith in Danny Boyle. I heard that the official DVD release would have a director's cut. Danny Boyle wanted to end it quite differently and the film outfit wanted to pare it down. Hope to see that ending.
Overheard in a Quiapo stall:
Overly buffed teen chinese guy: (holding a 28 Days Later pirated DVD copy) Miss wala ba kayong 28 Days lang?
Tindera: (pointing to the DVD OBTC guy is holding) Ayan o.
OBTC guy: Hindi. 28 days lang. Kasi part 2 na ito e, may later. Iyong walang later. Iyong part one.
At this point, I walked over to the other stall and laughed out loud. So it seems that Sandra Bullock was the cause of the rage virus. Wouldn't surprise me.
Certain parts of 28 Days Later reminded me of a Cortazar story, which led me to asking why haven't they done a surrealist film? Aside from Like Water For Chocolate, what other film took on the surrealist frame? Quite surprising since I believe that movie magic can pull the thing off, audiences have been suspending belief. Though admittedly, surrealism would be harder to achieve than an altogether full-blown fantasy.
I want to see children riding a boat in a pool of light, an hotel floor that houses a sheepman, a traffic that lasts for months, to believe in a reality that is almost but not quite. I want to see all that in the big screen. It is capable.
Someone once wrote me that I'm always faster than my words. That they are the ones trying to catch up with me. I think it was Neva who wrote that, in a dedication in a book she gave me. We had that phase, giving books to each other as presents. We'd go book hunting and surprise one another with books. It was far lovelier time than this.
But back to the words. There is a certain truth to that. Reading back journals and entries, I always find missing words and letters. Articles, conjuctions, prepositions, punctuations sometimes even nouns and verbs. It is that where my fingers fail. In the moment of writing, I am less conscious of my finger, what I type or if it's legible, rather the mind jumps from thought to thought. My fingers, apparently, are less dextruous and sometimes skip words to follow.
And I, being lazy, rarely read what I have written. A habit I picked up from writing journals. Rereading only makes me want to edit and slash at the words, rephrase, etc. But I don't want to do that. Not in a journal. I always wanted to present the first. Unlike poetry, in personal journals, I believe that the first word is the best word. Is the sincerest.
If I want to change my thought or revise. I write another entry. Not write over the one that has been written.
Well, I just hope that the fingers never tire of runningafter the thoughts. Or that my thoughts never tire of running. As long as my fingers and my thoughts are playing tag and catch-up, I'll be alright. Even with missing words.
Ernan at 2:52 AM