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Tuesday, 4 August 2009

Memories

You can erase someone from your mind. Getting them out of your heart is another story.

I just saw Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind tonight. Actually, I had just finished it, probably 10 minutes ago. Didn't plan on seeing it but I was recently intrigued by the topic of memory.

It started when I was having a conversation with a friend and we were reminiscing our past trip together. "I'm so gonna remember that trip for the rest of my life," he said. I concurred, randomly adding that we should make a memoir out of it just for a kick, so we definitely won't ever forget it. "I mean, you write it based on your memory, and I write based on mine. Who knows, maybe we remember things differently, it'll be interesting to find out," I said.

"So true. Don't you know," he launched into a serious mode," that according to scientists, remembering itself is an unreliable process. There's no such thing as real memories, because true memories can easily be obliterated and false ones added."

"In short, the more vividly you remember things, the more likely it's actually further away from the truth."

For some reason, this really irks my curiosity. I listened to Radiolab broadcast on this very topic, memory and forgetting. It says, when we're remembering something, we're actually recreating it. What we really remember is just recollection of the experience in the light of today.

Anyway, I was out to the video store this evening, just returning Departures and Little Miss Sunshine. Yes, I'm on a roll here, people. And yes, I had interest on this movie because of my little fascination about the subject, even though my sister admitted of seeing the first 15 minutes of the film and not understanding a single thing. "It's weird," she said. Still, I wanted to give it a try.

It's about a guy who found out that his girlfriend went to a doctor to have her memory of him erased, and so out of anger he decided to do the same and erase her. As we go along though, as he revisited his memories as it's being erased, he realized that these memories are precious, that he still loved her.

It ended on a hopeful note, and personally I really like it. If you happened to have seen it, let me know what you think.

Memory is a personal thing. I think it's one of a very few things that we can truly call our own, and that makes it precious. That means, noone can take that away. And maybe, the act of remembering, or the memory itself, says a lot more about you, than what actually happened.

Shall we just take comfort in that?

Saturday, 18 July 2009

Once again, I must ask too much of you, Harry

J.K Rowling is a genius for creating the world of Harry Potter. How was life B.H (Before Harry)? I seriously can't remember.

I'm unbashedly a Harry Potter fan, and I'm looking forward to seeing each installments being brought to life every year. You get to play with your imagination more when you read the book, but there's a pleasure of watching it on screen and getting lost in others' vision.

I just came back from seeing the latest movie, and I enjoyed it thoroughly in spite of. I feel that the film emphasized too much on the teenage romance angst part rather than the more important scenes to build up the plot.

We simply don't see much actions from the characters, even from Harry. Lupin and Tonks made a really small appearance, and some scenes just felt flat and loose.

Where did the Weasleys go after their house was destroyed? What happened to Hogwarts in the end? And as Snape took Dumbledore's life, the scene could've been more dramatic.

However, in here we see more depth of Draco Malfoy's character, suspenseful portrayal of Tom Riddle, and truly brilliant settings. I really loved the view.

I expect the last installment to be nothing short of explosive.

Tuesday, 14 July 2009

Too much opinion

I really should learn to keep my opinion to myself.

I was out with a friend, and he was just making a remark about the fashion state of today's youth. "I haven't been partying for a while, I'm not sure I'm properly dressed. What do the guys nowadays usually wear anyway?" he asked.

"I think what you're wearing is fine," I replied nonchalantly, just briefly glancing at his normal-looking shirt. It's not like there are any rules when it comes to proper attire for a night out on the town, not much for guys, at least. As long as they don't wear singlets or flipflops, I assumed they're covered.

"What, shirt and skinny jeans? Is that the trend?" he continued, oblivious to my general disinterest in the topic of chinese guys' fashion sense.

Skinny jeans. That's the magic words. Suddenly I was all flared up to speak my mind.

"Seriously?! I really don't understand why guys would wear skinny jeans! I completely detest them! I hate how they look on guys, they are terrible!" I enthusiastically declared. "And, guys shouldn't want their legs to look skinny either! It's so unattractive, unmasculine and just plain unflattering!"

I finally stopped to catch my breath, expecting him to join in the 'say no to skinny jeans' campaign I was previously parading.

Instead, he looked slightly embarrassed and replied, "Hey, I'm wearing skinny jeans."

Son of a biscuit!!!!! I stared at him, finally noticing his jeans for the first time, and mentally kicked myself in the head! Why oh why oh why did I babble on and on and on about skinny jeans! More importantly, how could I not notice his pants to begin with?!

Inside I was deeply embarrassed, but I didn't show it. Instead, I let out a big laugh and said, "Oh yeah, I didn't notice! I personally don't like it, but it's a matter of taste." Okay, so it wasn't the smartest comeback, but hey, I tried.

Quickly I changed the subject and within minutes we've moved on from the topic of tight-skinny-legged-men.

Phew. Crisis averted. For that one time! I really, really should learn to shut up sometimes.

When sadness was the sea, you were the one that taught me to swim.

Everything's complicated, even those things that seem flat in their bleakness or sadness.

You can never replace anyone because everyone is made up of such beautiful specific details.

I think when you get to the point where you don't need to be in love, then you could be in love. You have to just be OK with yourself-and that's a long process.

Words and hearts should be handled with care.. for words when spoken and hearts when broken are the hardest thing to repair.

It seems to me now that the plain state of being human is dramatic enough for anyone; you don't need to be a heroin addict or a performance poet to experience extremity. You just have to love someone.

It's just that I don't want to be somebody's crush. If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am. And I don't want them to carry it around inside. I want them to show me, so I can feel it too.

The best and most beautiful things in life cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.

Quotes

There's a hundred million different ways of writing, and it takes you a long time to sort through that stuff. And I think it takes anyone a long time to find a voice.

You must learn to take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, love what you’ve got and remember what you had. Learn to forgive, but never forget, learn from your mistakes but never regret. People change and things go wrong, but you just have to remember that life goes on.

The day before I’m supposed to be meeting Caroline for a drink, I develop all the textbook symptoms of a crush: nervous stomach, long periods spent daydreaming, an inability to remember what she looks like. I can bring back the dress and the boots, and I can see her bangs, but her face is a blank.

I don't know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that's what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I'll just be glad when something nice happens.

I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments.

There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is ok to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole, not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you.

Maybe what I'm saying is, is the world might be evolving the way a person evolves. Right? Like, I mean, me for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don't know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was, uh, whacked with insecurity, you know? Now I'm older and my problems are deeper, but I'm more equipped to handle them.

I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.

Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.

A woman needs to be held, even, and science has shown this, if its with someone she doesn't care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The first and best is the complete surround. He wraps you in both arms, whispers how beautiful you are. Second best is the 'arm around.' He is next to you but with one arm around you. Third is he's just next to you on his elbow, but he rests his hand on your stomach and looks at you. Fourth is you snuggling up to him with your head on his chest, while he looks away into space. But when the first best happens, you feel completely, wonderfully like a woman.

So, so what, so fuck off, go home, leave you alone? I'll tell you something Paul, there isn't anything that I've wanted for eighteen years, cause I was a kid eighteen years ago. And if I did still want the same things I'd think I'd gone wrong somewhere, because actually I don't want to marry David Cassidy, I don't want bigger tits, I don't want to do better on my marks. I've stopped worrying about that kind of thing and maybe you should try.

Well maybe there's a big bit of you that's gone missing somewhere, maybe everyone should want something they've always wanted.

Why is it that adults aren't supposed to go mad about anything? You gotta keep a lid on it. And if you don't then people are apparently entitled to say what they like. "You haven't grown up. You're a moron. Your conversation is trivial and boorish. You can't express your emotional needs. You can't relate to your children." And you die, lonely and miserable. But you know, what the hell, every cloud has a silver lining.

I just woke up one morning and didn't feel the same way. Where did it go? It was like there had been a lot of food on a plate in front of us, and we ate it all really quickly, and then there was nothing left. Maybe that's how couples stay together: they're not greedy. They know that what they have in front of them has to last a long time, so they kind of pick at it. I hope it's not like that, though. I hope that when people are happy together, it feels as though someone keeps piling seconds and thirds on their plates.

That is what I have learned: Sex is destructive. Love is nothing to be fooled with. I learned that I was dangerous, not to be trusted. I wondered if my parents were right, with all of their stiff lovelessness. Maybe they knew better. My parents don't dole out love for the deserving or the undeserving. I was learning that love could cost me.

You could say all you liked about reason and logic and common sense and imagination, but when the chips were down, the one skill you needed was the ability to think about absolutely nothing whatsoever.

There is a comfort in never making an effort, but it's a lonely comfort. What keeps you going is the knowledge that you're only playing with only four cards showing. But when you see other people succeeding with their mediocre hands, you have to make a decision. If you turn over that final card you're certain of victory, but it also means you have nothing in reserve.

I’d gone through life believing in the strength and competence of others; never in my own. Now, dazzled, I discovered that my capacities were real. It was like finding a fortune in the lining of an old coat.

Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as mere consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.