Monthly Archives: March 2012

Skip if you please

I apologize if this post has nothing to do with either anime or books but I just feel as though I have to let this out, otherwise it will get caught up in my mind’s abyss of crap.

I am seriously looking for enlightenment. I feel as though it’s too elusive that I might never get my hands on it ever — or I guess I’m just too blind to decipher anything that patently presents itself to me. You see, the feared graduation day had finally passed so you can now call me Ms. Officially-Unemployed-and-Unable-to-Do-Anything-because-of-No-Enlightenment. I thought by now I would already have set out my concrete plans yet I am still as stupid, lazy, and skinny as always; I just don’t know what to do with my life. You have no idea how much that statement is stressed out, my pedestrian writing is not enough to give it justice. My friend actually said it for me, “You don’t know what you want, you only know what you don’t want,” it says so much of my pessimism that I guess might affect my entire ways (or already has :s). Earlier today, I was once again reminded of my being a Schopenhauer believer when I stared into my glass of soda and thought it to be half-empty. I try to be more sanguine but I guess I have imbibed this negative approach to brace myself for the worse (or worst) things that may happen…I seriously want to pursue medicine but I my qualms are just too prevalent; I don’t think I have enough juice in my brain to last me my entire path to becoming a good doctor. Oh Lord, I need a little inspiration. Better yet, give me a vivisecting perspective so I could pursue the scattered symbols.

Again, I apologize for bringing up this personal problematic.


The wonders and departure of imagination

If there is one thing I would love to possess once again, it’s my imagination; you see, my imagination today is not functioning half as well as it used to when I was a kid. I guess it’s because the inexorable reality of life had to keep up with me and while I was enjoying the comfort of the temporal existence that anime and books gave me, it just was not enough. Life had to stress on me its harsh and irrevocable reality. As a kid, I could make worlds exist under a teacup, write one crazy story after another, and fill an entire notebook with stupid drawings — and it’s all because my imagination ran as free as it could ever get! Now, I could barely write a single sensible short story or even draw an elf without reality manacling me, it’s even a miracle I could come up with things to write about here.

all because he let his imagination go wild

Now the reason for my silly rants is J.K. Rowling’s Harvard commencement speech which I recently reread. Imagination, in her words, in its arguably most transformative and revelatory capacity, is the power that enables us to empathise with humans whose experiences we have never shared. Furthermore, she said, Many prefer not to exercise their imaginations at all. They choose to remain comfortably within the bounds of their own experience, never troubling to wonder how it would feel to have been born other than they are…They can refuse to know.

So without an active imagination, how am I supposed to live beyond my experience? What I could do is imagine things to a certain degree — the only problem is, that degree has already been conditioned by insipid reality thus preventing me from going further. Is there a point in everybody’s life where the prosperity of one’s imagination is greatly tested? I don’t know about the rest but I could definitely attest to that which is why my life has been anything but a leap of faith. I have been to discreet in my choices and actions, never bothering to loosen the constraint for a moment.

I guess my shallowness will someday come to haunt me but hopefully it might put me back on track. 🙂

A couple of hours for an 80-day adventure

It seems my anime-watching has been put on hold again. I can’t even use that over-used I’m busy excuse because although I am in my final semester in college, my life has been anything but busy. If I have taken a more complicated course, I might as well have used that excuse but sadly, the precious time undeservedly bestowed on me might end up untouched and wasted. Time has been so elusive for some lately and while these time-constrained people would give anything for a couple of minutes of the day, I meanwhile am given more than enough to practically use on. In order not to waste this, I bought a few books (at a good price ;D) to occupy myself with. Reading was a pastime that I was not able to enjoy to a T during my enlightenment period (high school) mostly because of limited resources (poor library) and partly because of a poor will to incessantly compensate for the limited resources. However, with the discovery of a store selling good books at a good price, I resolve to compromise with my pastime.

I purchased three novels: Quinn’s Book by William Kennedy, the classic Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne, and Object of Virtue by Nicholas Nicholson. In this post, I wish to expatiate on Jules Verne’s classic.

I’m not really good in taking pictures 🙂

We are aware of the impassive British gentleman Phileas Fogg’s circumnavigation of the world so I find no need to provide a summary of it. What I do find rather impeccable in the story is Verne’s subtle hint of wanting to write a romance novel because behind the navigational technicalities is a love story quixotically told. I was struck with the last few paragraphs of the story, if Verne bifurcated it into an adventure and a patent romance novel, he might have pulled it off. So the last paragraphs went like this:

“But what was the point? What had he gained from all this commotion? What had he got out of his journey? 

Nothing, comes the reply? Nothing, agreed, were it not for a lovely wife, who — however unlikely it may seem — made him the happiest of men!

In truth, wouldn’t anyone go around the world for less?”

Verne may not have been able to delve too much on the romance but I think he perfectly captured it even if it was only elucidated in the last few chapters. Even without reading the synopsis at the back of the book, one could tell from the start that everything would pertain to that single resplendent outcome. For without Mrs. Aouda’s confession, Mr. Fogg would not have been able to regain the self-respect that he thought he had already lost; it seemed as though Aouda’s existence had always been a primordial factor in his whole expedition.

In the end, love prevailed. It always does.