music i'm listening to. and i'm putting this down here, just so i'll remember. may never pass this way again.
and this was exactly what i was looking for pala. been restless all evening trying to find the right music. then i checked out some itunes tracks that i had unchecked a year ago, not because i didn't like them (i love them! especially because it was sir butch who saved them there, when he very kindly agreed to get my macbook workin. yey). stopped listening to them for a while because they made me weepy, especially the ones my mother and her sisters used to sing as a trio. kanina i tried playing them again. okay na. i just had to imagine myself in a terry cloth robe, glass of scotch in hand, sitting in a dark veranda. in other words, as an over the hill, nostalgic prof or retired chess master, looking back on the highs and lows of his life. haha. don't ask me why. why old, why male, why lonely/alone. basta yun. this has always been my meaningless comfort ego/alter image. as a kid, one of my dreams was to be an old, retired male blues singer. what foolish revelations these are. to think that i had just participated in a very lively discussion earlier on the history and current status of feminism. before that, i had a very, very, very, wonderful surprise meeting with one of my literary theory crushes! and, of course, because i am an idiot, my tongue got all twisted, and basically i just came off as a crazy person. am wondering now if the song choice has anything to do with meeting rey ileto (THE rey ileto!) this afternoon. or listening to delia aguilar talk about the history of feminism/s, while her other half, epifanio san juan sat quietly among the audience, and took pictures very discreetly. haaay. it must be bad when things like this affect one's mood radically, when they become valid sources of happiness. am heeding a friend's wise advice: don't blog when smashed. so, good night.
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3 comments:
winner ang-old-chess-master-in-a -terry-robe-drinking-scotch-in-the -late-afternoon image! hahaha. me, i always wanted to be a 12-year old boy. must be because it was during this age that my mom didn't allow me trousers, but rolled me up in organdy, flounces, and itchy lace. re-read The Body, and i cried. Hahaha
heehee. i think what was mentioned was air on a g string. just because of the title. but there is this bach prelude (i think?) that's been used in movies and tv shows so many times ---- but i just love. just because.
i think i always wanted to be an old, fleshy (!) african witch. sagging breasts and long hair. the one who would look at you and tell you "here, take this. it'll protect your heart." the one who knew spices, and animals, and scents.
we would have interesting conversations as a chess master, a 12 year old boy and whomever else are alter egos are.
ning and drey: teehee! we should have a "come, and sound, and act, as you really are" party! =)
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