CONFESSIONS OF A MOVIE-HOLIC

Favorite Movie
photo credits: weheartit.com

10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT THE MOVIES

1.       I hate it that those movies make us look like a psycho-freak. One moment they make us laugh, then the next thing you know, you’re sniffing and trying to conceal your tears so that your friends (or your mom or sister or brother) won’t make fun of you.

2.       I hate it that those movies makes me a couch-potato, and never accomplishes anything for the day…because I would rather listen to Adam Sandler sing than to hear my mom bellow for me to wash the dishes.

3.       I hate it that I gain weight just by having a 2-day movie marathon. Like, I consume packs of junk foods for a 16-hour movie. And for the record, I really don’t get the chance to burn those calories for just sitting around while making a list of movies-to-watch-next.

4.       I hate it that it keeps me awake at night (and on the wee hours of the day). How could you possibly sleep when you just saw Ashton Kutcher or Ben Affleck strip?! They would haunt you in your dreams, you know!

5.       I hate it that it makes me greedy. I wanna have my own friggin’ cars like those that O’Connor and Toretto drives—or just my own Paul-Walker-driver would be fine.

6.       It makes me dim-witted (a.k.a. slow) sometimes. Take for example the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. I saw it and I know that it’s really a nice movie, but I was just dumbfounded by the fact that I never really understood why the guy has to forget his memories about his girlfriend. I guess I have to see it the second time because I really have to justify what I told my friend when she asked me if it’s really a good movie—I told her “yeah, it’s really beautiful and it made me cry”—I felt stupid for saying that because I don’t even know why I said that…plus I don’t even remember why even I cried when I saw that film.

7.       I hate it that it makes me forget my age sometimes. Because I’d rather watch Ice Age and Alvin and the Chipmunks than Final Destination and Saw (even though I used to love FD 1-4). Seriously, my 9-year old brother bought a DVD of Final Destination 1-5 while I was waiting for Kung Fu Panda 1&2 to be downloaded…and when I told him the list of animated movies I have, he just shrugged me off!!!

8.       I hate it that it makes me believe in Prince Charming—like I imagined my sister kissing that frog which keeps on coming back near our kitchen door and transform him into a gorgeous prince and live happily-ever-after (of course I would like my sister to go first in case that frog would turn into an ogre instead of a prince…like a trial-and-error thing).

9.       I hate it that it made me jealous. Like Jennifer Garner marrying Ben Affleck, or Angelina Jolie becoming Mrs. Pitt (though I would prefer a better last name than that) or Vanessa Hudgens kissing Alex Pettyfer, or Cameron Diaz kissing Jude Law, or Drew Barrymore kissing Hugh Grant, or Ben Chaplin kissing Ben Barnes (—that was pretty disgusting by the way, that I have to close my eyes because I was so hurt how my Prince Caspian had to kiss Basil Hallward for a freakin’ narcissistic Dorian Gray who prefers to stay young! *awful*)

10.   I hate it that despite all those things, I still love to watch movies because it makes me and my friends get together and bond…it’s one thing my father and I had in common…it’s makes me forget my frustrations and fears even for a moment…it makes me laugh when I’m sad and keeps me company when I’m alone…and most of all, those movies helped me get back to writing—like what I did just now!

POSTSCRIPT

There’s more actually, but it says only 10…besides, I’d hate to change the title in (More than 10) Things I Hate About Movies.

So, what do you hate about movies?

CONFESSIONS OF A MOVIE-HOLIC (On Romance Part I)

photo credits: weheartit.com

Your Love Story

There are different ways to portray a love-so-strong-it-could-withstand-the-storm sort-of type of stories. You could use the element of time to prove your point that love can stand the test of time, or distance maybe for which makes the heart grow fonder…or the royalties—prince and princesses falling in love with commoners. You could also use ghosts which haunts their loved ones due to their unfinished business and it leaves you guessing if that ghost would invade another human body so that they could still be together (or it was just me who guessed that way), or if the other love one would just die so that they could be together in heaven. Angels have also come down from heaven to fall in love. Speaking of mystical creatures, there are vampires falling in love with human, human falling in love with werewolves, or werewolves falling in love with vampires…and vice versa—which goes to say that love has no boundaries…anyone could love anyone…that love could break the rules—even the rules of the world we’re not even sure exists—like the Neverland, maybe. Furthermore, love stories could already exist or be based in the typical (sometimes monotonous, for some boring) day-to-day and realistic routines in life. Take these for example:

ü  Best friends end up falling for each other. Like, you end up falling in love with your best friend and your best friend falls for someone else, but in the end of the story you still end up with each other. Who the hell knows how that turned out to be?!—well, as you may know, there are ways: one, the best friend whom you fall in love with, who you thought has fallen for someone else, is actually in love with you…you’re just too dumb to ever notice; two, that best friend of yours realizes that you’re the one all along, and that best friend of yours is just kinda stupid for not knowing early on; three, your best friend just made you thought that you’re better off as friends but is actually secretly in love with you, and there goes the confessions of your secret love; (and maybe there’s a whole lot more to that type of story)

ü  Best friend falls for their best friend and ends up being just the best friend but the bestest-best-friend of the whole damn world!

(In my opinion, the best-friend-thing-sort-of excuse is really absurd…if your best friend is from the opposite sex, there is always the danger of one falling for the other…only one of the two things will happen: it would either ruin your friendship or you would eventually end up with each other…but truth is, it actually happens in real life and not just in movies!)

ü  A stranger meets a stranger. (I guess that’s also a typical—and generally the most popular—start for any love stories in movies…aside, of course if you’re best friends or simply friends, maybe). Either, a dog-and-cat type of a meeting where one is pissed with the other, but as the saying goes: the more you hate the more you love; or, when the two met, flirts with each other early on—then of course, falls in love in the end.

ü  Typical high school flicks: popular kid falls in love with the unpopular, like a geek/nerd/weird (or with a complete psycho) kid in school. Then the other kid becomes popular as well, then goodbye to the old-lonesome life (—seriously, that provides a better catch than popular kid succumbs to geeky/nerdy/weirdo-type of life).

ü  Rebellious kid softens as he/she falls in love with the kinder and decent one and eventually changes for the better. (As love becomes a sort of excuse for being a better person. So, if one isn’t in love, one isn’t better??)

ü  Broken-hearted, then finds somebody to heal their broken heart. (How to become broken-hearted: One, your best friend falls in love with your girlfriend/boyfriend then leaves you; two, your boyfriend/girlfriend cheated on you by snogging/sleeping with someone else; three, you just got played on by jocks/jerks/total assholes; four, bf/gf simply falls out of love or just got tired (or bored) with your relationship; fifth, bf/gf was never really in love with you…he/she just thought they are. But don’t worry because falling in love again is the best remedy for a broken heart—just don’t go breakin’ it over and over again)

ü  Never really had a good relationship so far…goes searching for love…then finds out that the one they’ve been searching for was right there beside them all along.

ü  Finds love in the most strangest of places with the most unlikely person. (In a story where soul-mates, Destiny, and serendipity exists)

There’s more to that list…indeed because those stories were based in real life. We also have our own love stories to tell. Probably, that’s the great thing in movies: it becomes a reflection of our lives. Sometimes we’re not even aware of it—that love is right there with us that goes unnoticed—then there comes this movie on which we can relate on…which we can say to ourselves “I know how that feels” because it’s there…because it’s true. That love exists—it exists in all spectrums of life, in both sides of the coin, in the corners of our world (I don’t care if the world is round!), night and day, rain or shine, in war or in peace, good or bad, heaven and hell, sun and moon—it’s everywhere! And there are different ways to tell great stories of love. Maybe that’s why we never run out of movies. There is always this movie which will bring us tears, joy, inspiration, and sometimes strength to pursue that love. And when watching movies, it makes us believe that true love exists…and sometimes, it also tells us that not all great love stories ends in a happy note…that not great endings has to start with a great beginning…or that not all stories even begins—some ends right before it starts. Sometimes it teaches us valuable lessons on love—and life in general. Love—can make or break a life, heal or mend the broken, become one’s strength or weakness…and that love is sometimes, all a person has.

POSTSCRIPT:

Everyone is a story-teller…everyone has a story to tell.

So, what’s your love story? 

CONFESSIONS OF A MOVIE-HOLIC (On Romance Part II)

photo credits: weheartit.com

The Great Finales

I’ve seen a load of movies already—of different kinds, but more of the love stories type. As I make a new list of to-watch-for-movies, I realize that I grew tired of watching predictable ones. There are only two kinds of movies—the one who’ll end with the happily-ever-after part, just like the fairytales, and the other one which ends in tragedy. The former makes you believe in love and its power to defile hardships and impediments, while the latter usually leaves an impression that some things are simply not meant to be. Oh well, as a movie-addict myself, I love great stories and happy endings…but it’s usually those stories which leaves you hanging, depressed, mad, and really sad are the ones which would stick in your memory and the one that usually stands out. Take for example my top 3 favorite movies of all time: A Walk to Remember tops my list, followed by the ever famous Titanic, and then the movie If Only. If there’s one thing in common among them, it’s the fact that these movies really made me cry—not just sob, but really cry!—and the endings of these movies have haunted me for quite some time thinking, “why couldn’t they just be together?!” well, talk about hopeless romantic thinking that all great love stories always end up just like the fairytales. Of course I grew up, and now it’s different—from watching those tragic movies, I’ve learned something about love: I’ve learned that the depth of a great love cannot be measured by how well it ended—but on how the great love story’s intricate parts were weaved into beautiful and magnificent masterpiece which we would love and cherish for its beauty as a whole. It’s not about the spectacular beginning or the great finale of a love story that truly matters, but on the breathtaking and unforgettable plot of the story itself. It’s not about someone’s death in the end, but on how love actually made them alive.

POSTSCRIPT:

How I turn a tragic ending into an unforgettable happy ending: treasure the moments of the story which made me smile…made me believe in true love, in the beauty of life, and the story of forever. 

THANK YOU LORD!!

For the past months, I have been praying to the Lord our God for my license. Along with those prayers are hardwork and perseverance. The inspiration my family, friends and mentors has given me are my fuel which gets me going through the ride. Now, that I finally reap the fruits of my labor, I would like to thank everyone who were with me and never left my side. I know that this is just the beginning of a tougher journey ahead. The challenges of finding a job, the resilience if unable to find one, and the patience to wait for the opportunities, are tests to deal with in due time. Nevertheless, I have a greater God who are my wings as I soar through these clear or cloudy skies.

"Whatever Jesus has entrusted to you, use it in service for others and for God"

These are the parting words of the priest a while ago after the mass. Jesus entrusted the key to the Kingdom of God to Peter, the rock, of whom the church was built. Whatever he bound on earth will be bound in heaven and whatever we lose on earth, we will lose in heaven. In today's Word of God, He tells us that through Peter's courage and faith, God has made him the instrument to build His church. God has given me my license to become a nurse, and entrusted me the opportunity to touch lives in a way I was made for. As Jesus entrusted the key and the establishment of the church to Peter and the Apostles, much has been expected from them, and they delivered through the power and guidance of the Holy Spirit. Now, that I am officially licensed, I felt like I, too, has been entrusted with the key—a key of which greater responsibility held. I know I must deliver too, like one of Jesus' most loved disciple. There's no pressure in there because He knows what I can do and capable of—besides, the Holy Spirit is always with me to smoothen the creases whenever necessary. That's my faith—as to my courage, I am working on that everyday!!! What's there life to offer me is a mystery that's gonna make the upcoming days of my life a one heck of a ride that's gonna be fun, bumpy at times, but definitely fun!

Nursing isn't always my first choice...but I am going to prove, that I actually made the right choice. It's not the money, but it's the job—the chance to make a difference just by simply caring to mere strangers. "Whatever you do the rest of your brothers and sisters, you do it to Me" as what Jesus has once said. I promised myself to better in my profession by loving and embracing what I have in my hands.

POSTSCRIPT:

I would like to thank God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit, for holding me tight especially on times that I'm slowly slipping away.

Thank you to Our lady of Salvation of whose light emanates in the four corners of my room—in those nights that seems scary and gloomy, her light calms my soul...and that same light is a spark of hope for a better day ahead.

Thank You to the great Saints of whom their intercessions I called—St. Jude Thaddeus, St. Benedict, St. Agnes, St. Anthony of Padua, St. Clare, and to Our Lady of Mt. Carmel.

Thank you to my loving parents—mama and papa—they are my source of strength, inspiration, and most importantly, financial support (haha)...they're the best, most loving parents in the world! ...to my sister who is patient (if not always) with me, and my brother as well... to my Auntie whose there to hang-out with me and bring noise to my room...to my cousins, esp. Carla, my ex-roommate (miss you!!)...and to the rest of my aunts and uncles, and to my Grandmothers as well...

BUCN family—one of the strangely amazing family there is for me...who taught me independence, and how to find my motivation in the midst of adversaries and ambivalence—it is always the service for other people that makes Nursing a humble and noble profession—my great mentors has taught me that...and that's why I made it this far. Great efforts from strongly dedicated and caring professors...a great deal of gratitude belongs to you!!!

My colleagues now—BALLAMO DEMIRA, BLOCK BEE, DIYES the Insensitives, Group Six and Batch 2011 of BUCN—a hell of a job we did out there!!!—97.69% is incredibly a performance to date!!! CONGRATULATES to everyone!!! see you sa oath-taking...

Payee, Pepot, Tel, Neren, Marj, Hannah...thank you for standing by...kahit kelan, hindi kayo nawala...love you guys!!! 

Agnesian community, and my former batchmates....thank you sa prayers and tiwala...

Kuya Honest...salamat sa pakikigulo sa amin...hahaha...

...and to my Pentagon-Legaspi family...it was a tremendous and totally fun learning experience with you... I never thought I would enjoy the concepts of nursing this much...thank you sa Magic 5 and to sir DJ...Kudos!!

ONE IN SIX BILLION

There are six billion people in the world…

Six billion lives…

Six billion souls…

Six billion hearts that beat rapidly, slowly, each millisecond of the time…

In that six billion, sometimes, we only need one…

We only need one soul…

One heart…

In this one lifetime…

One in six billion, to make a difference in our life…

One in six billion, to make our heart skip a beat…

One in six billion, to fall in love with.

One in six billion, to spend the rest of our lives with.

There are six billion people in the world…

Six billion lives…

Six billion souls…

Six billion hearts that beat rapidly, slowly…keeping us alive…

In that six billion, we search for that one person for us…

And among that six billion, someone is out there looking for us…

There is this someone who’ll come and find us…

A SCAR FOR A BIKE

Disclaimer: photo not mine.

  
I was 8 years old back then—I was running and playing with my sister in front of our home…typical children’s play, an ordinary day. We were running fast when all of a sudden, when I turned back, a bicycle was moving my way already…too fast I wasn’t able to avoid it. It moved towards me, unable to clutch the breaks before it hit me directly. I fell to ground, good thing my face and upper extremities were spared from cuts and bruises. However, my legs were bruised and I had a deep cut on my left knee and leg, and a smaller one on my right. It was bleeding and I was so scared and very much in pain that time. My mom came to me and cleaned my wounds. I didn’t know what happened to the bicycle driver, and I never even saw his (I know he’s a guy) face. I was hoping that my uncles and my grandmother would somehow reprimand him for being so careless—if that ever happened, I have no idea. While my mom was nursing my wounds, she scolded me for being so sloppy. She reminded me that I should always be cautious while playing along the streets, because in the first place, it wasn’t a playground where I just run around without being hit by anything with wheels. Most of all, she was so displeased by the fact that I have a very deep wound, that she said would definitely leave a scar. I was so young then, I don’t really care about scars and all. What I really cared about was the fact that I can see my gushing wound and that it really hurts. But my mom did—she worried that my soon-to-be scar won’t look so good on my legs. She, of most people cared about my skin, and she hated it every time I get bruises and insect bites. She wanted our skin to be unblemished. Talk about hygiene and skin care with my mom.

That was twelve years ago. The scar I have on my left leg is really visible (at least on my sight) blending against my skin given its complexion. It is at least an inch length and half an inch width. I never really paid much attention to it, but when I saw it in front of the mirror one day, it reminded me of that particular day—hazy with details but still present in my memory. I can still even recall that I was really crying that day. Nevertheless, it’s a mark of my past.

Why talk about scars? Well, there’s just so much about it and there are different kinds of too. Some are deep…some are keloid scars…some hollow ones…others are mere patch of distorted skin…there are those with breaks, and the ones with calluses. Each has a different story, but one thing’s for sure…it was once a wound—a deep one, that caused a great deal of pain. Wounds heal, in different stages and different paces. Not all wounds leave a scar because our skin regenerates. But only deep wounds leave an evidence—a scar—which our body can do no more than to just allow the pain to dissipate and the wound to close and heal. We all have been wounded…once, twice or more…felt a variety of pain, flashes different glints of memory about it—and then, we move on. But I guess, even if we’ve gone far enough, whenever we see that scar, the memory resurfaces and we may feel a bit of pain still…but it’s never the same again.

 

Because of that incident in my life, I never got the courage to ride a bike…I’ve always been afraid of getting wounded again…afraid of running because I might stumble and fall again…that fear stopped me from experiencing some great but simple joys in life. I never knew the feeling of actually riding a bicycle, because I never allowed myself to ride. It wasn’t that scar, but the pain I felt when I once had it, that never allowed me to summon the courage to get past through it. I guess we all get afraid sometimes, and our scars remind us of that fear—fear of pain. It’s a reminder, that we’re vulnerable. And it always—always takes time to recover. I always regret not trying hard enough to learn how to ride on a bicycle. But I know, that no matter how persistent our minds push us to do something we fear, every so often, we’re not strong enough. It’s not our fault—It’s just who we are. We all have weaknesses, and my own scar reminded me of my own limitation. We all move on, but our past doesn’t move with us. It stays as it is, and how it affects our present is a choice we always make.

Wounds become a scar for reasons—it’s been healed and it’s a remembrance of that experience we once had with our pasts. Just like with my scar, the memory behind it reminded me that we could run carefree through life—the breeze that brushes our face when we lope and the freedom that joggles in our feet when we dash—but in that run, there are bumps that could get in the way, some people who would jerk behind our back and topple us down. But most importantly, the ones who would raise us back to our feet again. The impediments, fall-backs, and pains we face in our life are never an excuse to remain stagnant and fearful, and coward. Life moves, and it moves with us.

POSTSCRIPT:

My mom, with her protectiveness, kept my fears at bay. That day, when she was so worried about my wound, I know she was most worried about the pain. I was crying and I know she was in much pain as I was. But she did a really good job of reminding me to be really cautious…to be extra careful while I run and play around—that some people are there to knock us down and never really cared to look behind and help us up. She won’t always be there to nurse my wounds—as a grown up, I had to do it on my own. Sometimes, we’re just by ourselves alone with the disappointments in life, and my mom doesn’t want me to go through that unarmed and unprotected. She knows that no matter how much she wanted to protect me and my sister, we will always feel pain. Maybe that’s why, that day, after cleaning my wounds, she bought me an ice cream—to let me know that no matter how painful it felt, how bitter it tasted, and how terrible it really looked—it’s just a choco-flavored ice cream that could save the day! She wanted me to know, that not all pain stays—it gradually disappears, either because of a numbing coldness, or a sweet tasting delight of something that’s really good. Nevertheless, it always goes away—maybe not entirely soon—but eventually, it will…

LOOKING FOR NOTHING

Disclaimer: photo not mine.

I watch the days drift by…wind blowing, the leaves swaying. I’m stuck around the corners of my room… waiting for night to come…trying so hard to see the stars amidst the glaring streetlamp…waiting for the moon to show up that’s hiding underneath the clouds. I’m looking for something so vague…so distant. I know for a fact that I’m wasting my time just hanging around. I know there’s an opportunity for me out there…there’s a lot actually. It’s just that…I’m always been this girl who’s so afraid…been through much (but not a lot) but still afraid…always holding back…always deferring those chances. It’s been three months since I last wrote on my journal…no follow-through’s yet…and it’s long (who knows how long) since I wrote a decent entry on my blog. Who cares anyway, I don’t even know if there’s anyone reading it… nevertheless, I’m still on this constant search… search for something I barely know… I think I’m gonna go nuts just by lurking around this place and doing absolutely nothing…at least nothing I have planned. The last time I looked up the sky and saw the brilliant stars, (that was when the lights were out for about a minute)…then I saw those stars, then at that moment, I found peace inside… Now, I’m waiting to see those stars again (seems like they’ve been hiding all this time), to feel that stillness once more…and hoping…and praying to heaven, that I’ll be able to see the path that’s laid out for me. I need to know… I need to start moving…because if not, I might not be able to get away…if not, I might be stuck here forever…

I'll Be There For You w Lyrics

Sa Huling Pagkakataon

photo credits: weheartit.com

Sa 15 na taon ng pagiging estudyante, nagkaroon ako ng 7 uri o design ng school uniform—1 noong Kinder/Prep, 3 noong Elementary, 1 high school, at 2 ngayong college (type A, B, at meron pa plang C—for civilian…3 pala). Laging tig-3 set ang bawat isa…5 set ang type A or clinical uniform ko…lahat lahat at meron akong naging 23 na uniform…isama mo pa ang mga naging PE uniform ko…hindi ko na mabilang…

Ano nga ba ang meron sa school uniform? Bakit sa tuwing naiisip ko ang huling araw ng pagsuot ko nito ay nakakadama ako ng kakaibang lungkot? Kung tutuusin, kapirasong tela lang naman ito, at marami ka pang kaparehong design…at hindi ito pasok sa fashion statement ng mga tao. Pero bakit kakaiba sa pakiramdam mawalay dito?

Sabi nila, ang school uniform daw ay form of identity. Ito ang pagkakakilanlan ng paaralang iyong pinapasukan. Araw-araw pagpasok, ay suot-suot ko ito. Minsan na din akong na-late dahil sa hindi plantsadong uniform, at pumasok na parang hahabulin lang ng plantsa…napagalitan dahil sa “incomplete uniform” at hindi papasukin sa klase dahil sa “not in uniform”. Umulan man o umaraw school uniform ang kasabay ko sa pagpasok sa klase…may transport strike o wala…first Friday masses, third Sunday masses at sa mga misa na idinadaos sa school…school programs, recognition day, teacher’s day, valentine’s day, at sa pagkarami-rami pang pagkakataon. Suot ko ang school uniform ko sa mga masasaya at di gaano kasayang mga sandali ng pagiging estudyante ko. Ito ang suot ko nang makilala ko ang mga kaibigan ko…nang matutunan ko ang photosynthesis, solar system, Laws of Motion, pag-solve ng Algebra, Trig at Geometry problems… nang makilala ko sina Einstein, Newton, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar, Robert Frost, Homer, Elizabeth Browning, Confucius, Jose Rizal, Apolinario Mabini, Emilio Aguinaldo, at marami pang iba. Ito rin ang suot ko nang makilala ko ang teachers na naging inspirasyon ko at hinangaan, at minsan ding naisipang gayahin. Marahil ito rin ang suot ko nang matuto akong magdasal at nang unang natutong mangarap.

Sa bawat uniform na meron ako, may kakabit itong mga alaala ng kabataan ko, mga naging pangarap, mga pinaghirapang exams, mga nadaluhang recognition day kung saan sinasabitan ako ng medalya…at napakarami pang karanasan ng pagiging estudyante. Sa bawat araw na suot ko ang mga ito, ipinagmamalaki ko ito. Nagsisilbi itong simbolo ng aking paglalakbay tungo sa pag-abot ng aking mga pangarap. Sa bawat panahong nagdadaan, kumukupas din ang mga ito—ngunit hindi ang mga hibla ng pagsusumikap, para makapagtapos ng pag-aaral, na kakabit narin nito.

photo credits: weheartit.com

Ang aking school uniforms ay bahagi na rin ng aking pagkatao. Kakabit nito ang naging buhay ko sa loob ng mga paaralang minsan ko ding naging tahanan. Maaaring bukas na ang maging huling araw ng pagsuot ko ng aking school uniform. Sa March 30, 2011, sa wakas ay ga-graduate na ako, huling araw na ng pagiging estudyante ko.  Magiging panatag na ang mga magulang ko, dahil alam nila na kahit saan man ako magpunta, may natapos na ako. Sa susunod na linggo, itatago ko na ang mga naging school uniform ko, ngunit hindi ang mga aral na natutunan ko sa loob ng 15 taon na suot ko ito. Maswerte ako dahil nakapag-aral ako…maswerte ako dahil magagandang uniform ang isinuot ko…at ang mga ito ang habambuhay kong ipagpapasalamat at magiging simbolo ng pagtuklas ko ng karunungan, at ng halaga ng mga pangarap sa ating buhay. At sa lahat ng naging school uniform ko, SALAMAT at sinamahan niyo ako….

Crazy Little Thing called Love (aka First Love) Trailer High Quality

This Thai movie stars Mario Mauer (P'Shone) and Fern (I guess that's her name...i apologize coz I suck with doing research). Anyway, upon watching this movie, it reminded me of the American movie counterpart...FLIPPED... The story goes by the same theme... A naive girl falls in love with the popular guy (and a very good looking one)...girl is a wallflower then becomes the unexpected princess...guys falls in love with the girl in the end, and story hangs in there. this Thai movie though, is funnier, and at the end of the story guy turns out to be secretly in love with girl all along. P'nam (Fern) confesses her love, they got separated, then met again after 9 years. In Flipped, girl and boy were neighbors...girl expresses her admiration with the guy from the start, but guy ignores her...then day comes when the guy finally realized that he, too, is in love with the girl, but apparently girl becomes uninterested with him already...so now, he has to work hard to win the girl, thanks to that sycamore tree which made a bridge of opportunity to lit another spark for them.

These stories of unrequitted love were born in a very young age, until it grew and blossomed into somethng wonderful and pleasant to share. What is love anyway?? Well, I guess it takes different forms, and makes up a beautiful story and brings about beautiful characters...some people go crazy about it, becomes stupid becomes ecstatic, and most of the time, brings out the best in anyone. That-love-thing...it can break a heart, but still the best remedy for one. It's workings, no one can quite understand, unless felt and shared..

THE ROLLER COASTER RIDE

Source: weheartit.com

This is the year I considered most significant in my maturity. I learned important lessons in life and relearned the things I refuse to learn before. My heart has been broken, and made whole again…I was wounded, healed, got some scars, and in some way had those scars bleed once more… Nevertheless, I learned. In those acquaintances, I came up with the realization—that true happiness lies beneath the surface… its beyond laughter, good company, achievements and victories… it comes genuinely after a big trial: like a battle of survival, an obstacle course, or a maze adventure—and somehow, notwithstanding the doubts and discouragement, above with faith and trust…I survived—simply because I didn’t quit…just moved forward.

I can say that my year ended practically how it started—unusually cold and melancholic. But it’s the middle that could count the most. It’s like a roller coaster ride…full of ups and downs, twists and turns, nerves, surprises, and relief upon reaching its end. When I rode in, I was full of crap…I was scared, a coward, never wanting to embark on such kind of ride because on my mind I don’t need it. I’ve seen how it rolls and thought that I can already imagine how it feels even at a distance. It’s scary and dangerous. I’m such a chicken trying to rationalize my fears and inhibitions. Even so, I still found myself on the ride, occasionally closing my eyes, feeling the chill of air on my face, shouting, and gasping for breath whenever I look down. The only thing that keeps me together is the metal brace on which I hold on for some strength and for the assurance that I won’t fall no matter how bloodcurdling it all gets. When it’s finally over, I felt that I’m still holding my breath…and with a sigh of relief—it’s all over. The ride was over, and for a moment I found myself breathing a new form of air—a new form of courage and strength…a new me. Indeed, it’s never the same feeling when you’re just a spectator and then being able to experience the actual thing. When you’re in it, you’ll understand why you need to close your eyes every once in a while, why you have to see the view from atop even when you’re scared to see how high you might fall, why you have to be scared sometimes, and why you need to shout and burst when it gets rough.

My year ended the way it started, simply because I’m still scared to ride. I guess it would never go away…that thing called fear. Yet, as I say, I learned and it’s a new me. I may be feared but I uncovered the skill of closing my eyes, looking above and beyond, and shouting for whatever my heart yearns to holler. My year ends with cold and melancholy, but it’s also coupled with peace and audacity. My heart’s chaos while riding my roller coaster is now culminated by the stillness of air. I guess I’m just getting all wrapped up for another adventure…for another ride…

Source: weheartit.com

Now, as I glimpse back on the year that comes to pass, I can say that in life, there are no rewinds…no shortcuts, no rules, no clear end and destination. You just move forward…always moving forward…catching the next ride, and the next, and the next, until you reach the end. In the process, you leave something behind, to remind you where you’ve been and where you came from; and bring something with you in return, so that you’ll always have something with you as you go. We might get lost once in a while, stumble, fall, get hurt, and betrayed by circumstances at times…but we never back down…because that’s only the way life goes. By the end, genuine happiness truly belong to those who worked for it, to those who deserve it, to those who wait and are willing to sacrifice for its cost—for genuine happiness doesn’t come in a handy…it surfaces only to those who are willing to discover it’s real meaning.

THINGS I LEARNED THIS YEAR

Disclaimer: photo not mine.

“The early bird catches the worm. A stitch in time saves nine. He who hesitates is lost. We can't pretend we hadn't been told. We've all heard the proverbs, heard the philosophers, heard our grandparents warning us about wasted time, heard the damn poets urging us to seize the day. Still sometimes we have to see for ourselves. We have to make our own mistakes. We have to learn our own lessons. We have to sweep today's possibility under tomorrow's rug until we can't anymore. Until we finally understand for ourselves what Benjamin Franklin really meant. That knowing is better than wondering, that waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst, beat the hell out of never trying.” –Meredith (Grey’s Anatomy)

THINGS I LEARNED THIS YEAR

I have learned so many things in the 2 decades of my existence. Some of them, I have to re-learn until I fully understand what it truly meant. Some are more memorable and meaningful than the others, while some stand out and the others remain forgotten until the moment I need them again. This year is probably one of the most unforgettable years for me…and this year:

I learned that life is like a series of rooms; each day, we get stuck in one room with one person, and that person adds up to who we are. (House)

I learned that the easiest way to grow as a person is to surround yourself with people smarter and stronger than you are.

I learned that it actually takes two weeks to start a habit.

I learned that no matter how much goodness you’ve done to others, they will still hurt you at some point.

I learned that being too nice can actually make you sick.

I learned that even the best kind of friendship can still break.

I learned that sometimes, you have to fight back and rise above your fears and inhibitions.

I learned that people always leave. But sometimes, they do come back. (OTH)

I learned that when somebody walks out of your life, it’s their choice…but sometimes, it’s your fault.

I learned that when somebody leaves, another one would inevitable take their place.

I learned that, eventually, all things would change…and the only thing that’s permanent is (your) family. (Eat.Pray.Love)

I learned that although change is inevitable, they always do us good favors.

I learned that it’s okay to mess up and feel like crap sometimes.

I learned that the things you wanted to forget are the things you most need to talk about.

I learned that ignoring the facts doesn’t change the facts.

I learned that bitching isn’t that bad.

I learned that the way people treats you reflect how you actually treat them…or sometimes, it’s just the way 

they are.

I learned that the ones who are capable of hurting you are the ones you love or the ones who love you most.

I learned that the safest place to feel is the place you most truly belong. Friends and Family—they’re the ones we call a home.

Most of all, I learned that each day, is a chance to learn and to grow, to choose to be happy, to live simply…and to be grateful.

The moment we truly learn our lessons are the times when we are able to apply them in the various circumstances of our lives. There’s a difference between knowing and learning, and there is a thin line separating them. At some point, we will realize that we grow more each day for the things we learn, the emotions we feel, and the acts we do for ourselves and for others. They say that experience is the best teacher and I used to disagree. But now I know that it is only through experience that we can say we have truly learned—the moment when we stop wondering what it’s like to walk on some other’s shoes, or stand on their grounds. Our experiences are as unique as their own, so as on how we learn from them.