/ 1:49:00 PM

This is why I have time to do this.



I think I'm dangerously close to falling asleep. It's cold and quiet in here. And with most of them people already on vacation, our floor is nearly deserted. And my not being swamped with tasks? Yeah, lulling me to sleep. *sighs* It's the cold, ya know. And the silence. And the cold. And the silence.



Hmm.. I have such high hopes for the upcoming holy week mini-break. But most of my well-planned aktibidades somehow end up all screwy so I'm *thisclose* to not planning anything at all. I have till tomorrow to decide. Heh. As if. Ü

~^~^~^~^~

Teh Passion.



I went inside the theater yesterday afternoon armed with a huge bucket of popcorn (hell-o? kasama ko kasi nanay ko noh so d pwedeng walang food. lol) and nerves of steel. I've gathered from my officemates who've seen it that they went all weepy while watching so I certainly didn't wanna jump on that bandwagon. Hmmkay. But to my mortification, there I was. Sniveling. Like the rest of the people around me. Well, except for my mom, who was otherwise occupied by the arduous task of popcorn-munching. Baka raw kasi makatulog siya. Hee. My mom, ever the sentimental.



Like zein, I was furious at those highly vindictive and vicious highfreakinpriests. The way their eyes glittered with pure malice and hatred. The way their bodies all but hummed with such foul contempt. The way they screamed for the vilified and bloodied Jesus to be crucified. It was unnerving and revolting as hell. I was livid. I could actually feel Pilate's wtf is happening here look.



The Torture. The Brutality. The Injustice. Yes, I flinched during the scourging and every single time those bastards would continually flog him even as he could bear the cross no longer. And I winced in shared pain when He was crucified to that damned cross.



But that wasn't what moved me to tears.



Maia Morgenstern is my new hero.



Her Mary is just so..



*thud*



Her eyes spoke of so much quiet dignity, inner strength and muted pain that she didn't need to say anything at all. That in itself is just.. wow.



I loved how Mary's presence lent a semblance of strength to her Son. Everytime He sees her, there's this moment, it seems, that those eyes of His appear a little less defeated than before. Or it could also be just Him putting up a brave front for mom. Whatever. It still looks pretty significant to me. And you know what they say about how a mother's pain greatly exceeds that of her kid's? OhMyGoodness. Just imagine the pain she had to endure.



*painfully clutches at her abdomen before her guts all spill out*



The scourging scene where she couldn't take it anymore and she had to grieve away from the crowd? That was the first time I reached for my tissue. I dabbed at my eyes again when Jesus fell for the second time and Mary rushed to His side (the scene that was interspersed with parallel flashbacks of Christ as a curly-topped moppet) and brokenly told Him "I'm here."



*blinks*



I lost count of my tears after that.



I see those tears of hers silently stream down her face and it's like the moment stretches into infinity and the only sound I hear is my own heart breaking.



She is the ultimate Mother.



Mary is my Hero.



Maia Morgenstern rocks my hoodie.



*****



A sidenote:



I've heard people say that the film brought them to that place where you feel chastised for sweating over the inconsequential troubles that life tosses at you.
(aka the dank, dark place of Guilt) Well, what could I say to that? One, that I marvel at the depth of their personal experience. And second, that I wasn't moved by the same spirit. Tis not to say that I was not moved by the film. It was a powerful one, both in its aesthetic and psychological sense. But.. I dunno.. maybe I was just viewing it more as a cinematic experience than a spiritual journey. Or I am just too desensitized to be blown away.



I do not feel compelled to weep in despair over the atrocities of the world. Much as I would love for things to be better, I have no delusions of grandeur that I can make a whole lotta things better. Nor do I feel the overwhelming urge to hug those people I don't feel particularly fond of. But as we were going home last night, I felt oddly subdued and mildly reflective.



But nope, no epiphany for me just yet.



I don't know what that says about me.

PROFILE: I am blah from class here and is born on 00/00/00, time. and so love me like this. I was so cute, I am totally an element that you'd never ever known, you can;t find it in the periodic table cause no one has even found it- I explode in your face just like potassium when it touches water, it's really explosive, you should really run away first before I do spark into flames and burn you alive! I love blasting my music as well, when love sync (elissa) let me hear Cry-Rihanna, i have been like addicted to it like drugs- oh wait. it's worse than drugs, it's better, more addictive than drugs. listen to that song! and this is one of my last blogskin that i will produce until the EOYs of 2008, cause i flunked Biology, ARGHS! OMG I SURE DIE LIKE !@#$% and i am emo now like under ltos of peer pressure and bad seniors.



having been in hwa chong institution (just like make it long so you can preview a long post or wad that fits right down underneath which i think i shall crap all day today) my eyes have been wanting to close since 20:00 (8PM)), I was so tired, cause the syllabus in hwachong is really so hard that no one can sleep really well. The new CSE classes (aka. Centre for Scholaristic Excellence) and is also known for it's famous nickname Cannot Sleep Everyday or Early. Is like even the teachers know, so the homework is reduced, but it's like OMG! will die, this year already so hard, next year i say "die!" mati already lar. arghs!NEXT, A RIOT OF COLORS, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF ME. AND I KNOW THAT I BRUISE EASILY. LEAP OF FATE LIKE i never know and i'm learning to fly and a safety net to cushion the blow. and i feel so suicidal and note "I BRUISE EASILY" and be gentle when you handle me.




hello once again, i have been having nightmares,no one is doing work for my project , whcih is true. supposed to do "family planning" is like whatever lar, when will we be able to use it not like very soon we are gonna have kids, settle down, earn money have NSman relief or whatsoever or even Children Relief, is like wtf. I am eating CIGAR ROLLS, they are vilina flavoured and jsut finished my bowl of ice cream which tasted so mixed, haha btu it was ncie to me (: I like mix of flavours liek suddenly a RIOT of colors and A EXPLOSION of taste! I mean like it's really impactful come to think about it, and cause my project has to be handed in by friday so i shall rush typign finish this retarded paragraph. like hello! ello! buhello! darkdegree will go on HIATUS soon. and i am so emo, i feel like slashing my wrist now, it's true adn don't look down on me for that i know people discriminate.

see you there at hiatus land.

/ 1:49:00 PM

This is why I have time to do this.



I think I'm dangerously close to falling asleep. It's cold and quiet in here. And with most of them people already on vacation, our floor is nearly deserted. And my not being swamped with tasks? Yeah, lulling me to sleep. *sighs* It's the cold, ya know. And the silence. And the cold. And the silence.



Hmm.. I have such high hopes for the upcoming holy week mini-break. But most of my well-planned aktibidades somehow end up all screwy so I'm *thisclose* to not planning anything at all. I have till tomorrow to decide. Heh. As if. Ü

~^~^~^~^~

Teh Passion.



I went inside the theater yesterday afternoon armed with a huge bucket of popcorn (hell-o? kasama ko kasi nanay ko noh so d pwedeng walang food. lol) and nerves of steel. I've gathered from my officemates who've seen it that they went all weepy while watching so I certainly didn't wanna jump on that bandwagon. Hmmkay. But to my mortification, there I was. Sniveling. Like the rest of the people around me. Well, except for my mom, who was otherwise occupied by the arduous task of popcorn-munching. Baka raw kasi makatulog siya. Hee. My mom, ever the sentimental.



Like zein, I was furious at those highly vindictive and vicious highfreakinpriests. The way their eyes glittered with pure malice and hatred. The way their bodies all but hummed with such foul contempt. The way they screamed for the vilified and bloodied Jesus to be crucified. It was unnerving and revolting as hell. I was livid. I could actually feel Pilate's wtf is happening here look.



The Torture. The Brutality. The Injustice. Yes, I flinched during the scourging and every single time those bastards would continually flog him even as he could bear the cross no longer. And I winced in shared pain when He was crucified to that damned cross.



But that wasn't what moved me to tears.



Maia Morgenstern is my new hero.



Her Mary is just so..



*thud*



Her eyes spoke of so much quiet dignity, inner strength and muted pain that she didn't need to say anything at all. That in itself is just.. wow.



I loved how Mary's presence lent a semblance of strength to her Son. Everytime He sees her, there's this moment, it seems, that those eyes of His appear a little less defeated than before. Or it could also be just Him putting up a brave front for mom. Whatever. It still looks pretty significant to me. And you know what they say about how a mother's pain greatly exceeds that of her kid's? OhMyGoodness. Just imagine the pain she had to endure.



*painfully clutches at her abdomen before her guts all spill out*



The scourging scene where she couldn't take it anymore and she had to grieve away from the crowd? That was the first time I reached for my tissue. I dabbed at my eyes again when Jesus fell for the second time and Mary rushed to His side (the scene that was interspersed with parallel flashbacks of Christ as a curly-topped moppet) and brokenly told Him "I'm here."



*blinks*



I lost count of my tears after that.



I see those tears of hers silently stream down her face and it's like the moment stretches into infinity and the only sound I hear is my own heart breaking.



She is the ultimate Mother.



Mary is my Hero.



Maia Morgenstern rocks my hoodie.



*****



A sidenote:



I've heard people say that the film brought them to that place where you feel chastised for sweating over the inconsequential troubles that life tosses at you.
(aka the dank, dark place of Guilt) Well, what could I say to that? One, that I marvel at the depth of their personal experience. And second, that I wasn't moved by the same spirit. Tis not to say that I was not moved by the film. It was a powerful one, both in its aesthetic and psychological sense. But.. I dunno.. maybe I was just viewing it more as a cinematic experience than a spiritual journey. Or I am just too desensitized to be blown away.



I do not feel compelled to weep in despair over the atrocities of the world. Much as I would love for things to be better, I have no delusions of grandeur that I can make a whole lotta things better. Nor do I feel the overwhelming urge to hug those people I don't feel particularly fond of. But as we were going home last night, I felt oddly subdued and mildly reflective.



But nope, no epiphany for me just yet.



I don't know what that says about me.