Tomei: What if a robber suddenly barges inside our room and makes you choose between me and everything we’ve got. What will you choose?

Keaton: You of course. (pause)  But that’s not going to happen.

Tomei: That’s the whole point. The choice won’t happen that way. The choice happens everyday, in small things.

Above is a dialogue from Ron Howard’s film Paper. In that particular scene, Marisa Tomei gives Michael Keaton a point to ponder for the latter’s constant unavailability whenever she needs him. I am personally touched by this simple thought, which I encountered for the first time in Conrado de Quiros’ Tongues on Fire, p. 45. Although De Quiros uses the dialogue to emphasize his take on Heroism—which finds its relevance nowadays in an onset of a Jun Lozada—it resounds with an afterthought: there’s so much truth to it when applied instead to the choices we make through the course of loving. Shortly after reading the aforementioned, I unlocked myself out of my room to let her know thru this writing that I am still alive, that my heart still beats for her, that I would choose her over some other things or even the sum of those things, that I am a factory of clichés whenever I am infused with a love bug and that I always tend to inhibit myself for the mean time just to determine some verities. (Check out this older entry to understand it better.)

So in the middle of the day there’s the alarm clock from within, announcing: hey, it’s the 12^th of the month Bum, get yourself together. My one week of absence for sure makes my girlfriend feel, the way the character of Tomei feels, like she is being given away to the bandits of time. I have to prove her feeling wrong. Today is the second month since we hastily signed a commitment. Sort of like that. Well, before I forget, I must admit that I made a conceited claim last time that needs correction: she did not court me. All she did was count the ways of how she loves me. Naturally, I was skeptic upon hearing that from her in YM. It really helped that Leslie Pearl was around then to sing an advice: If the love fits wear it, if it feels good put it on. And so our story continues. All I can hope for now is that she hasn’t stopped counting the days that has gone by without me.

***

Special Thanks to Don for supplying me with Oscar-winning titles to secure a movie-marathon I am still running up to now. One of these days, I will write a longer critique for each film. As of now, I just have to say: Diving Bell and the Butterfly is pure genius that it becomes an instant favorite. Cotillard is riveting in La Vie en Rose. Sweeny Todd fails to amuse my taste for macabre. This is out of the same category but I have to let you know that, as far as I can see, Gondry’s Science of Sleep is a pretentious attempt. I hate to pontificate but it misses the Lynchian effect I was expecting, and messes a lot with dream psychology. We’ll talk about that later, you may ready your defenses.

Special thanks also to Kel Juan for his little, mushy poem (I made some revisions) I would like to dedicate to my whammy for our second monthsary:

Mahal Ko

Naho-homesick ako.

Ha? Pa’no nangyari ‘yon, nandiyan ka sa inyo?

Ang puso mo ay bahay ko, kaya’t naho-homesick ako.

Isang mahabang expressway ang pagitan natin,

sa ngayon.

Nami-miss na kita.

Mahal ko, ako’y pauwi na

Sa puso mong mapag-ampon.

1. You won’t believe this. Yesterday while I labored in front of a rented PC, I suddenly could not remember. I shook my head and thought of amnesia. I stared at the monitor; I wrote my name in a blank MS word document and ruled out amnesia. I could still remember several things like: I am in love. I want to write something. I am in an internet shop. It sucks here. But I could not remember what it was I want to write about, it seemed like time has stopped for half an eternity. I looked around and saw several empty seats. Beside me, the man with the headset was nodding, eyes wide shut. It felt so freaky. Until someone buzzed. I did not forget what to do with an instant messenger turning orange. I clicked on it and learned that it was a girl who buzzed. Her name, oh her name. I felt her name like a heartburn. How strange, we have had a talk before the phenomenon, I learned further. I scrolled up to read our entire dialogue and was astounded by the revelation. Something inside my mind whispered: forget again. But I couldn’t.

2. Just this afternoon, I found myself amid a loud pack of college students who were having fun out of everything they can think of inside the jeep. The heavy traffic provided them extra time to exhibit their pedestrian humor. I know they are cheating with happiness. One of them, a dentally challenged homosexual, eyed the sign which says: No Smoking. He then argued why there is no city ordinance that prohibits farting inside public vehicles. As I expected, each of them laughed in various pitches. I frowned to the best of my ability. Because I was alone.

3.   I really want to testify before the senate. To tell the   

     whole world that it was the First Gentleman Mike Enriquez   

     who tried to bribe me to influence the nationwide results of   

     TV ratings. ABS-CBN channel 2 deserves fair competition from

     ZTE-7.

4. I bought myself a car key. It is a versatile key. It could be a car key, a house key, a keepsake box key, a keychain. The best thing it can do is to pretend.

5. Finally, the truths are trapped between the fingers of my comb.

6. I don’t want to explain. It is one of the laziest activities. But since I explained why I don’t like to explain, I’ll explain things. Someone advised me to shave. She said I will look better without the beard. I asked her if she know about the law of the excluded middle. She simpered: you are naughty. “OK, I guess you haven’t heard about the argument of the beard,” I said. She giggled: you really think I am naïve?

7. First of all, I hate chronology. Chronology is like a girl who takes so much time in the mirror but still looks ugly. Chronology does not like me very much as well.

      8.   Kurosawa thru Rahomon edifies: We cannot be honest with

            ourselves about ourselves. We cannot talk aboutourselves

            without embellishing.

      

9. The truth is: I love my girl, my whammy. To explain the phenomenon of truth is impossible. To explain is pointless.

10. Variations on the word Truth by Bum.