House of Memory

There's an already familiar noise that has significantly been a part of my every day while I am on my usual work-from-home setup. Sitting on my spot by the window, while my eyes are fixated at the screen, I could imagine the afternoon face of our neighborhood just by consciously reaching its cacophonies: Kids shrilling while the sound of their chasing echoes with their bodies. Engines puffing their breaths roughly on the road. The heavy sound of trains. Scattered voices— some fading in the background, while others resonate its way across our street, trying to win subconsciously one another. With this commotion, seems there's one noise that has completely been bothering me more than it pampers me. Just before the daylight patiently fades away from the view, there's a loud music that being played pretentiously almost every day—   punching its beats against the speaker almost unbearable to listen to. At those times, how I wish they would play much often music that lu

People believe that I am a studious person. But, actually, I am NOT —  at least not consistently.   Even myself could not quite grasp the idea why I am being viewed as that. Not that I am not grateful for that perspective, but somehow as I grew up I learn to take receipt of other's compliment where it is due so if it's not...I usually shrug it off cause I could not labor myself under that misapprehension.  Of course, everyone wants at least somebody's soft words.  However, in my case, people especially in our neighborhood have been loosely seeing me throughout my growing years as a bespectacled studious kid...which I thought is weird. Admittedly,   I was that kid whose normal eyesight had lost somewhere in her sophomore year for an I-don't-know reason but I was definitely NOT that kid (who might have been living in their head) who had to afford a pair of glasses because her vision could not handle anymore her immense intelligence that people believed she had.  To set a

Dead Stars , as what Fernandez revealed on her readings, is not only worth a glimmer of tears but a real sense of discovery. Despite years of not having read it, there still lies a certain degree of combined mystery and fascination— the feeling of being exposed repeatedly at something familiar yet it doesn’t fail to give off the sense of new discovery. That is the charm of the short story “Dead Stars” which sprang from the mind of Paz Marquez-Benitez . We have Alfredo Salazar, the man who, despite the life of luxury he has, is still burdened with this “formless melancholy”. Is it because he impulsively mortgage the hidden possibilities of the future to fill his craving for transient excitement? That the use of force in the hand of Time or of Fate has made him miss the Love? But it is Julia Salas to everyone but Julita only for Alfredo, the woman of his “last spurt of hot blood”. The root of his frequent “neighboring” to the house on the hill that once meant nothing to him. The receivin

If I was still on my first grade and you'll ask me which fruit is my favorite, then very likely I would answer it without giving much conscious thought.  Star Apple . I used to have a small voice when I was on my first grade (Not that I don't have it anymore, but somehow, it has gotten improved through the years of trying) I could still call to mind how I was being scolded by my homeroom teacher for being so bashful whenever she was asking me to read something for the class.  They can't hear me.  But I can hear myself...my thoughts, and how my heart was skipping beats whenever I can feel their eyes at me.  And they were trying to stifle their giggle under their breath when our homeroom teacher patiently told me if I can even hear my own voice. They had no idea. That's what I thought.  If only they knew that at those moments I was like hovering between life and death, and I was trying my very best to calm my throat so I could gather my escaping voice and let it out. But

Last night, I watched Once in a Summer . I had no expectations as soon as I started watching it. I had not heard this film before from anyone I know of, that’s why I might be just right on a comfortable spot.   Since the preview of this film was not available on Netflix and I was too lazy to search it on YouTube , I just jumped at it right away. On its first few minutes, I was still finding my way into it. And admittedly, because of that, I was reluctant on whether should I push through it for the possibility that I might not like it once I am already halfway through the film. But still, I decided to give it the benefit of the doubt.  Once in a Summer started off rather with a slow and somewhat enigmatic buildup. The characters that opened the film were nowhere to be seen as soon as the story progressed, they had their fair share of moments especially with Byung-Hun but I think they have not had any meaningful exchanges of conversation.  I was looking for his perspective, possibly wi