Tuesday, November 21, 2006


I was digging through some old cds at home, one rainy lazy sunday afternoon. An old buddy was asking me to come with her for another tiring rounds at a newly opened "supernova-mall" somewhere in Roxas Boulevard. I fabricated reasons just to stay at home. I told my friend that I had to finish some crochette-ing and cross-stitching jobs, and some carpentry stuff after that.

My wallet's almost dried-up and I guess, I am just not in my best mood to prowl around and spread love, harmony and world peace by strutting my ass in a crowded mall. After a few minutes of digging into my old stack of discs, I found something that may suffice and keep me awake for a good 2 or 3 hours.

So I settled to watch a not-so-old movie, which I had first seen some 5 or maybe 6 years ago. The title was "Quills" and it stars Kate Winslet and Joaquin Phoenix. And yeah, the Great Geoffrey Rush who plays the role of Marquis` de Sade. The story unfolds in an asylum/institution where the "demented", "queer" and those who were labeled "unfit" to thrive within the norms of the society, are placed (or should I say, locked-up).
Marquis` de Sade was part of the population, and he is guilty for writing prose that leans on the sexual, which the conservative society deems as a threat to an otherwise "wholesome and decent" social norms. So he was ordered to be incarcerated and was prohibited from transcribing his "lewd" ideas into printed letters. But just like man's morning erection, De Sade didn't just stopped there. He's got blankets, a goblet of red wine and chickenbones as a quill and he had her laundress Maddy, played by Ms. Winslet, smuggle the stories, to be published for the prudish world to read. And when blankets and wine was taken away, he cut his tongue off and he splattered his prose with his own blood all over the walls of his cell.

That scene was reeking with madness and insanity, so mad that it follows me even during sleep, hours after I watched the movie. I came to realize how I have been betraying myself for not doing what I had always wanted to do, to wield words, to write.

I am existing in a time where medium is not a problem, and people don't get incarcerated for writing (Except if you're writing about GMA and her government; you get gunned down. That is not a problem with me because I intend to write about other better things).I need not slice off a member of my anatomy, we got papers everywhere, and an interesting thing called "blog".
For years, I have been a doing somnambulogues. I eat, I drink, I shit and I fuck. I do the things normal people does. But they were all did while in deep slumber.

I just woke up... and I am now ready to spread love, harmony,and world peace.
And I will do that by wielding prose , by writing ...
and by strutting my ass in a crowded mall...

I will call my mall-rat friend.

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