On Talking

"We need to talk."

These has got to be one of the worst combination of words the english language has ever spawned. Nothing good comes out after these words have been uttered; nothing is ever resolved; nothing is ever repaired. As a matter of fact, "talking" is nothing but a series of monologues performed by two or more people in tandem. You don't need the other party or parties to hear you, or even understand you; you just need an audience.

Sometimes, the 'audience' is not even necessary; they distract the speaker's train of thought with their uncalled for comments and interjections, the nerve. Talking does not even convey what the speaker truly wants to express. Oddly enough, the words usually get in the way of expressing what is meant. Sadly, not everyone realizes this, so they just keep on talking to try to express what they really need to say, but all is in vain. Whatever truth they originally want to express is muddied up by their own words, and the words uttered by the other party (the victim, i suppose), until everything has woefully and inevitably worsened by this need to talk.

It's this need of people to feel connected that is the problem, I suppose. People feel the need to belong, but hardly anyone possesses the necessary tools to do just that. Sadly, they turn to words, but words are not enough; they never have been.

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Originally posted on friendsterblogs September 2006.

I'm currently having difficulty gathering my thoughts lately, owing to stresses at work and other incidental events not for public scutiny. Hopefully, I will have full mastery of my vocabulary within a week or so. I'm off to Shang for the Cine Europa. I wish it would free me from this mental constipation I'm currently suffering.

The Search for Narnia

The main allure of reading is its ability to transport the reader to different worlds. The better the author's words flow, the deeper the reader delves into dimensions at once foreign and familiar. That is why when my stress buttons are pressed, coming home to a well-written fantasy is such a boon. Such is the reason for the alarming proliferation of fiction in my room. I need more shelving.

I have a tendency to impose my tastes on others, and anyone clueless enough to ask my opinion on books would no doubt be bombarded by Anne Rice, Stephen King, Neil Gaiman and Jostein Gaarder. I lend my books (if you ask me nicely) on the condition that its conditions be preserved. I tend to become obsessive when it comes to my tomes.

My problem is, I tend to forget who borrowed which.

Among the titles missing in my collection is The Chronicles of Narnia. I found my copy at Booksale years ago, before the first movie was shown, for 150 bucks. Some months afterward, I found that same copy selling at Powerbooks for upwards of 500. I've lost track of who borrowed this book from me. I was secretly hoping that it only got lodged among the things I didn't bother unpacking from my moving from one room to the next (I'm on my third room this year), but alas, the book wasn't anywhere.

Some friends advised me to create a card catalog for my books, as they have already grown too big to commit to just memory. What they didn't comment on was my abyssmal memory to start with. Seeing as Narnia is not the only title I'm missing, I just might consider that advise, only, I wouldn't go about calling my collection a library, at least, not yet.

I'm gonna need all my OC powers for this endeavor.

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Magic: The Gathering

I was a fan of this card game way back in high school, although I had more fun collecting the cards rather than playing them. It was such a geeky game, much like Dungeons & Dragons, and I love it.

Back then, one of the prized cards to find was the Sengir Vampire, which is a "cheap" creature to cast considering its abilites. By cheap, it means that the manna used casting the creature was well worth its cost. Imagine my surprise when I saw this online:

You've got to love Gloria, she really stives for universal appeal. I mean, Filipinos from all walks of life hate her now, from geeks to jocks, and all the cliques in between.

photocredits