Friday, January 31, 2014

eurosa's flashback

The smell of Formalin still reminds me of something. I was at ‘that’ place. I have seen ‘the man’ for the last time on that dreaded 24th of March year 2009. On that afternoon, torrents of rain were pouring dreadfully in my black umbrella as I was about to go inside. It was an unexpected rain since it was almost summer time of the year. I felt the heavens must have been feeling what I am feeling. It was my only solace; it wept with me.


As I walked along the dark hall entrance, I felt numbness in my entire body. I was nearing insanity, once more. I saw from afar piles of coffins across the other end. I moved closely scrutinizing each, some made of wood and some made of metal. There were assorted colors: red, black, white, silver, gold. Some had intricate designs of Christ’s last supper; others had carved angel designs, most were just plain old, classic-looking coffins. I told myself I wanted none of them when I die. I prefer to be cremated.


Later that afternoon, I had a hard time contemplating, whether or not, to go inside the next room which reads “STRICTLY NO ENTRY”. It was the Embalming Room. I could no longer help it; I had to see him for the very last time before he gets embalmed. The smell of Formalin was somewhat inviting and so; I finally decided to go inside, without any hesitation. Inside that room lay three bodies whose souls have been stripped off by a so-called “Divine Entity”. Their deaths must have been caused by either of two factors, either: an ill-fated accident or a self-destructing vice. Or who knows?


Two corpses were covered with white blankets and were sadly situated on the floor. Seemed to me that this is nothing but showing a lack of compassion towards the dead. I wondered why they would leave the bodies in the floor when there are enough vacant tables. The other body was placed on top of the operating table. Because of the familiar-looking blanket with dark red floral designs, I began to recognize that this body in the operating table was him. I uncovered the body and the sight broke my heart. I looked at him very closely for a couple of minutes because I wanted to imprint this memory in my head for me to remember that moment for the rest of my life. That moment was so precious since it will be the last time that I will see him in his natural, lifeless state since later on he will undergo a post-mortem examination and have the vital parts of his body removed. I held his hand for the last time, poked his pale arms and cried, “Papa, please don’t forget what I told you, keep in touch okay?” Yes, that man is my father. He was my father.


As I started to observe the place, the four walls of the room began to feel creepy. It was deafeningly silent and badly lit. I smell mixed chemical solutions but the only smell which overpowered my olfactory system was Formalin. In the tray, I saw scissors, knives, injections and other sharp objects used for embalming. At the corner of the operating table were long, narrow tubes used to remove blood. I was inside that dreaded place, and I realized I shouldn’t be there. I swore to myself that, as long as I am still alive, that would be the first and last time I’m going inside a place like that. It made me reflect about my own death as well and it also made me realize that I should cherish the life that I have.


The smell of Formalin still reminds me of something. I guess ‘that’ is the place, and there is no other place that can display the inconvenient truth about human beings ephemeral existence, but ‘the morgue’. We are born and then we begin to die. In between, we live. In between, like my father, I’d try live.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

47 rounin: 1st movie for 2014... our 1st.

yes dear, it delivered. any keanu reeves starrer does, i say :) 
47 rounin is certainly a movie to watch. filled with pretty visuals 
(sakura FTW), 
creative ones too! it draws some kind of mystery, 
even populated by creatures that grew from myths 
without any attempt to categorize them. 
it's like dependent on the intellect of the watcher :) 
the story focuses in on a more personal story, 
on the story of men who fought in order to set things right, 
the story of  men killing themselves 
for disobeying an order for the greater good, 
and thinks it is a great honor to do so. 
as much as i do not agree with the action, i respect it. 
reeves is not the star of this film 
but it would be really boring if it's portrayed by others :) 
i do not intend to put so much technical remarks here 
but i must write that it's serviceable 
by having the decency to try to tell a story and deliver just that.  
oh well, i just love it...

Monday, January 13, 2014

ball games ...

Bruises, 
nosebleeds, 
occasional blackeyes
intensify a mother's paranoia 
but 
they're no match 
for the giggles and laughter 
at halftime break.

Friday, January 10, 2014

the little prince...my little prince

this morning i started the day with "alice in wonderland" in mind...the words from the book never cease to amuse me...until plurkfriend tatcee asked about global citizenship. with that, i suddenly thought of "the little prince". fancy that, just like 'unsing it' when you keep having the 'last song syndrome'...anyways, here are my favorite quotes from the book written by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry.

Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.

Grown-ups love figures. When you tell them that you have made a new friend, they never ask you any questions about essentail matters. They never say to you, “What does his voice sound like? What games does he love best? Does he collect butterflies?” Instead, they demand: “How old is he? How many brothers has he? How much does he weigh? How much money does his father make?” Only from these figures do they think they have learned anything about him.


If you were to say to the grown-ups: “I saw a beautiful house made of rosy brick, with geraniums in the windows and doves on the roof,” they would not be able to get an idea of that house at all. You have have to say to them: “I saw a house that cost $20,000.” Then they would exclaim: “Oh, what a pretty house that is!”

“One day,” you said to me, “I saw the sunset forty-four times!” And a little later you added: “You know--one loves the sunset, when one is so sad…” “Were you so sad, then?” I asked, “on the day of the forty-four sunsets?”But the little prince made no reply.


“Well, I must endure the presence of two or three caterpillars if I wish to become acquainted with the butterflies. It seems that they are very beautiful.”

“Why are you drinking?” demanded the little prince. “So that I may forget,” replied the tippler. “Forget what?” inquired the little prince, who already felt sorry for him. “Forget that I am ashamed,” the tippler confessed, hanging his head. “Ashamed of what?” insisted the little prince, who wanted to help him. “Ashamed of drinking!”


“When he lights his street lamp, it is as if he brought one more star to life, or one flower. When he puts out his lamp, he sends the flower, or the star, to sleep. That is a beautiful occupation. And since it is beautiful, it is truly useful.”

“Men?” she echoed. “I think there are six or seven of them in existence. I saw them, several years ago. But one never knows where to find them. The wind blows them away. They have no roots, and that makes their lives very difficult.”


“I thought that I was rich, with a flower that was unique in all the world; and all I had was a common rose. A common rose, and three volcanoes that come up to my knees--and one of them perhaps extinct forever… That doesn’t make me a very great prince…” And he lay down in the grass and cried.

“To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…If you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life...You have hair like the color of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat…”


“You are beautiful, but you are empty,” he went on. “One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me.”

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”


“What makes the desert beautiful,” said the little prince, “is that somewhere it hides a well…”

"All men have the stars," he answered, "but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travellers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they were wealth. But all the stars are silent. You--you alone--will have the stars as no one else has them--"


and as for my personal request---this quote does more like it:

Wait for a time, exactly under the star. Then, if a little man appears who laughs, who has golden hair and who refuses to answer questions, you will know who he is. If this should happen, please comfort me. Send me word that he has come back.


need i write more? ah yes! watch the movie version. it's beautifully done too!