Liv in a Life Well-Lived

Of course there has to be a 2012 review! I skipped a couple of years there, but it's practically a Geek's Guide Tradition. I have loaded up on sarcasm, and what I hope is aplomb, so I may describe ever so colorfully the films which I was able to catch (a total of 58 movies this year). If you're rock punk indie, or hate any film that's been advertised to more than 10 people, then I am sorry to say I haven't had a chance to catch a lot of them this year. I love 'em, and perhaps will do more snobbish reviews for them in the future. I also have a huge gaping hole where Filipino movies are supposed to be, but I honestly only watched a couple this year, and I don't feel I am a legit critic to any of them because of my lack of expertise. This list is mainstream Hollywood cinema 2012, just like the Oscars without the statues and the painfully awkward opening salvos. Here's 5 of the Best and Worst of this year's film du jour, and some special awards I

It was a drowsy afternoon you couldn’t fight off.   Humidity hung heavy in the air, and the whirring fans and the droning TV tugs at your eyelids. Sleep beckoned and you followed. That’s how it started. I’m still thinking how it felt as I watched you sleep --- a beast tried to claw its way out from within the depths of me. It felt as if I was a priestess in a temple of some old forgotten god, and I was about to lay down a sacrifice at the foot of your altar. It felt like a winged creature which has slept for ages inside a silver cage, has stirred and fluttered and now struggles to get out. It felt big and terrifying but beautiful too. It felt like love. Your face was both new and old to me; the texture of your cheek with the 5 o’clock shadow both velvety and rough. Without warning, I was caught in a time intersect, when I could see both now and tomorrow and the story in between.  I saw another evening in a time far away, where I watch you sleep. You look exhausted, p

1. I'm scared. I'm not scared of missing out. You fished me out of misery and everything with you still looks better than what I had back then. What I'm scared of is that you would actually convince me I want to live longer than is absolutely necessary. I have made my peace with dying, and anticipate it. But you came along, and now I'm changing my mind. 2. I don't know if I can. I thought when you fall in love, everything will fall into place. At least, that's the hype. You are a wonderful person, but the few things that do annoy me --- it annoys me big time. Now, I am able to accept it, because two years is new and parts of our relationship is still shiny, but I don't know for how long. Something's got to change, and I see you trying, but what if I am not patient enough to wait for that kind of evolution? I want to. But I don't know if I can. 3. I do. I am 85% sure that if you ask me now, I will say yes. I don't know how life will p

Some nights, I lie in bed whittling away seconds from the clock by letting my mind wander idly. Most of the time, my mind chooses to replay memories - some new and shining (or scathingly so), some not so new, some not so nice- reeling through the back of my head like a silent film showing in a one-seater movie theater.After all these memories are exhausted, only then do the ancient memories return. These memories are so ancient, almost embedded in my body's muscle memory, that they ceased to be chronological impressions; instead, they've been replaced by symbolic images and sounds of a life once lived. A doll. A pen and callused fingers. A gasping laugh. A comic drawing of a wavy yellow-bursting sun wearing dark shades.. A candle flickering. Darkness. The moon, full and shining. The last is my favorite memory. It comes easily to me unbidden, unlike the others that needs some urging to come forward. But it always come to me after remembering Darkness, and like a much-hope

Somedays, I just wonder how people earn the love of another.  Somedays, I get obsessed to the point of compulsion, to track down and explain at which point exactly did this other human being trust me and love me. What are the factors? What criteria did I fulfill which responds to his quota, his need, his desire? Then I realize it might not be about me. It must be about the two of us, and the sense and nonsense we make when we are together. Millions of scientists have tried to enacapsulate Love in their studies and researches and white papers. All of them are possibly correct, but none of them got the point. Measuring love is like measuring sand. You grasp the understanding, but most of its definitions slip away, fall through, seep out. The handful you do manage to grasp is just an iota of its many other reasons, meanings and possibilities. It blows my mind away. This entry is absolute crap and mush. I am aware of that. But I’m happy I have this crap in my life.I can'

photo c/o of The Guardian, UK. Everyday, girls as young as 5 years old are taken to clinics to undergo circumcision. In certain countries, Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) is a ritual, a rite of passage from childhood to womanhood. But it's primary goal is to decrease sexual pleasure for when girls become women stating this would make sure they will remain faithful to their husbands. I wrote this story, amateurish as it may be, to help support the movement against FGM. It is not the same as Male Circumcision. There is no hygienic reason behind it, nor is it really part of any religious commandment. In my opinion, it is just one more way to treat women as objects of pleasure, to owned and controlled. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= “Uman dande boku wahala .” I heard a woman say to her companion as I was closing the wooden door of the hut I’ve been using as a makeshift school. They just said, “That woman is