Six and a Half Years Ago ...

Whenever I hear this song or see the video, I see my first few days alone in the dorm, June 2005. I remember the awful feeling of being left completely alone as my parents said goodbye and closed the dorm's door. I was alone, several miles from home. Feeling sad then was rather odd, considering I had been looking forward to a taste of independence, whatever that meant. I wondered what my classmates would be like. I felt scared. I hadn't expected to make it this far. Only six months earlier, I had been wondering if I would live to see college.


I remember sitting on the newly waxed floor of my dorm bedroom, listening to the noises outside. Even as I looked into the afternoon light from the window, all I saw was a gaping void, pretty much like an empty page nobody could ever fill.


My iPod Shuffle was becoming faulty, but I didn't mind. I listened to this song to give myself hope that maybe something was here for me. I was going to do what I want. Perhaps what made this song special is because it somehow gave me hope - that somehow, if I held on, I just might get what I've always wanted. And I did. I learned again what it was like to be happy and to see others happy because you are happy. For the first time in 17 years, I felt real companionship, to have others love me and respect me and never look at my cankles and funny gait and wonder if I'm not quite normal.


I listen to this song now, and I feel hot around the ears. I feel the heavy air in the University Belt and see the chaotic roads with its drivers and fare collectors calling for nervoous students that have become heedless of the smog and muck staining their pressed uniforms brown by the pre-semestral exams. I remember dodging pesky beggar kids who think they can demand for money or a meal when my tuition takes several years of my parents' jobs. I remember entering the UST Museum and feel like I'm in Heaven.

I remember racing for the LRT on the way to Buendia's Batangas-bound buses and back. The air was hot and humid even at twilight. Yet I enjoyed watching people pass by the train. I remember wondering what they are like - what they do, what they love, what they live for. There are so many people in such a big city, and plenty more in the surrounding provinces. Yet nearly all of them are insignificant to me; and I knew I was insignificant to nearly all of them, too. They look at me having no idea that I spoke and sang at the age of two and recited numbers 1-10 in English, Tagalog, and Spanish. They look at me not knowing I was member of my school's Gifted and Talented Educational Program where I skipped a lot of sessions out of sheer lack of motivation because of constant bullying.

Yet I still found joy in reading poems posted on the LRT's interiors and at the same time sorrow and guilt and frustration that I missed out on a lot of opportunities. I write well, but I write mediocre poetry; I attempt at sonnets never knowing how good I am. My prose is good, obviously; my fiction is even better. Call me a megalomaniac frustrated poet, but even now, I feel like I could have done better. Yet I know that being 'the best I can be' was virtually impossible under the circumstances, considering my personality and all I've been through.

But even through all that, I look back in wonder and think, wow! It's been six years since? Almost seven? This was what I hadn't imagined before: that I would still be alive and actually happy.

I look at my writing and tell myself I have so much to offer. Then, I listen to Stonefree's "Sayang" and convince myself that yes, my life is too good to waste.

rock of ages

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What Would Edward Do?

I remember telling myself that I would finally stop ranting about Twilight. For a while, I have ceased talking about it, although I have entertained hateful thoughts about it from time to time. Also after finally reading all four books and the spinoff novella in PDF and the first three movies, I have also decided that the Twilight series is not worth the attention it is getting. When it comes to the hatedom, however, I believe that it is necessary to promote understanding as to why Twilight is what I and countless others like me think it is.

Perhaps what contributed to my recent silence toward the series is that I have been busy writing a couple of pieces of fan fiction set seven years after the series finale, with my favorite character, Leah Clearwater in the lead. Time and again, I have expressed through my stories my own interpretation of the characters particularly those I dislike, like Bella Swan, Edward Cullen and Sam Uley. Hell, I have even criticized otherwise likeable Dr. Carlisle Cullen, blaming him along with Bella for any unnecessary and pointless conflict in the series and their tragic outcomes. I am referring in particular to the death of poor Bree Tanner, who was executed by the Volturi just for being involved; she hasn’t done anything, not even stepping foot into the actual battlefield. I am also talking about the dozens of innocent people who were either turned into vampires and then killed or killed by these vampires as their meal.

Anybody who has read Twilight or the movie adaptations tend to blame Victoria for the unnecessary tragedy. But I blame Bella nonetheless. If she hadn’t been there on that fateful baseball game, James wouldn’t have run after her; Edward wouldn’t have killed him, driving Victoria on a vengeful rampage. I would even say that Victoria was a brave woman to have gone through the trouble of risking tipping off the Volturi just to kill one puny human with unnecessary protection, but that’s for another essay.

What concerns me now is an entirely different matter. Last year, I wrote a blog entry bemoaning the lack of appropriate conclusion for Leah Clearwater. I wrote a piece of fan fiction to appease my grief over the injustice of it all. Then, to see if the happy ending does not falter, I wrote a sequel set eight years after the ending of the first one; I suggest you read it here before you continue reading.

The plot concluded the way I wanted and the way it would naturally flow according to the circumstances. So far, I’ve only had two reviews. One is pleased with the ending, and another is not. The latter said: “Was a asome plot and story up till the last chapter. I hated it not that Im a bella and Edward lover but It really was off of character that stephine meyers made them to be. yeah Edward is real pain when it comes to protecting his family but I don't think he would be that way. Like Said great story up to last chapter.”

If you have read the story, you would see that I somehow made all characters as close to the canon as possible. But as a fan fiction writer, I believe it is also my duty to incorporate some of my interpretation into the story and into the characters. If you would check the author’s profile page, I made it clear that I am not a fan of Twilight, and I don’t share the fans’views about it. However, my general opinion of the books is mostly irrelevant here; the matter on hand is the character of Edward Cullen.

Edward has always struck me as an arrogant, devious and intrusive stalker who resorts to deceit and emotional manipulation to get what he wants. I think that, even in his few moments of genuine affection, he gets carried away by his own emotions because of his stunted maturity. He has no reason to love Bella, much less a reason to hate Jacob or his wolf-brothers (and sister). And even if I believe he does, Edward doesn’t give me a reason to care. The primary reason I don’t care for anything he thinks or says or does is because I blame him and Bella (and to a lesser extent, Carlisle Cullen) for anything that ever happens in the series; in fact, I root for Victoria for wanting to kill the little bone-bag and going through the trouble of making a newborn army just to kill someone who doesn’t deserve my sympathy.

If a heartbroken vampire is an unstoppable destructive force, isn’t Victoria only acting upon her own instinct and emotion suitable to that of a true vampire? And James, he wouldn’t have died if Bella wasn’t even in the secret baseball field with the damn Cullen family!

Okay, let’s think of it this way: if Bella did die, wouldn’t Edward be pissed and go on a quest to kill Victoria? If he is the protagonist, you would have rooted for him, right? Well, the same thing happened to Victoria; why would you still root for Edward and not her? What is it about Bella that she is so important?—that she is his “true love”? WHY is she his true love? That’s what I don’t understand! And I don’t need anybody to tell me to understand anymore. I’ve read all four books and the pointless spinoff novella. I’ve seen the three movies, and I am willing to see the next two. The series is ending, and nothing is there that could show me why I should care that Edward and Bella should be together.

In fact, I don’t think they deserve a happy ending. Leah Clearwater does because her life sucks, and she doesn’t deserve to feel hurt. Feel free to read my blog entry here to see why.

Now, as I have stated, Edward is a selfish, overbearing jerk with no contribution to society and therefore does not deserve to exist. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh. There are many other characters—well-written characters of any given alignment—that have little or no contribution to their society. And that’s barely even the problem; my issue with Edward is that he doesn’t have a reason for me to care about him. His fangirls might try, but so far, anything important or ‘good’ I’ve heard about him are the shallow stuff: that he’s affectionate, “protective” and “devoted” to the point of being annoying but it’s okay because he’s hot and his heart is in the right place so he practically can do no wrong.

Except that he does get carried away by his passionate and fiery temperance and even those who love him (fellow characters or real-world fangirls) admit that he does make silly decisions or thoughts. So now we get to my final point: why would he then not act the way he did in the climax of “Wolf People II”? Based on his fans’ interpretation on him, how else would he have handled the fear that the only other supernatural beings closely allied to his family is keeping a secret that one of them is married to what they all consider a true monster? Why would the fans “not think he would be that way”? Under the given conflict and circumstances, what would he have done based on the intended character structure Stephenie Meyer intended him to be?

Okay, maybe dragging a man by his hair to his wife’s feet was a tad cruel coming from Edward Cullen. But think about this: openly insulting the second closest man to his significant other’s heart is not that much of a stretch. If he can repeatedly call Jacob Black with derogatory terms instead of his proper name, how much crueler can Edward Cullen possibly be to someone he has identified as an enemy? For goodness sake, he tore off a heartbroken woman’s head because he killed her mate! He didn’t bother to see Leah’s point of view when she berated Bella and made her cry; he was arrogant enough to claim he knows what Bella is feeling but Leah’s mind is an open book to him, and he doesn’t understand why she’s angry with Bella for breaking Jacob’s heart. If Leah wasn’t remotely important to Jacob, Edward might have killed her if you ask me. So what’s to stop him from wanting to kill Nanuq?

What else could he have reasonably done? Come on, my Twilighter friends. Enlighten me.

An Epiphany as Bright as a Thousand Suns

I listened to Linkin Park’s new album A Thousand Suns and totally fell in love with it. Perhaps it was because of my recent fondness for alternative musicians like Björk, Tori Amos, Emilie Autumn and Rasputina that drew me to Linkin Park’s experimental electronic sound, which deviates from their signature nu rock sound. Many fans have been put off by this. To them, Linkin Park isn’t Linkin Park without the guitar riffs, Chester’s screams alternated with Mike’s raps, Mr. Hahn’s scratches and angst-ridden lyrics. I am one of those few fans who believe that being fans means being loyal to their favorite bands no matter how much they change.

Personally, I respect Linkin Park even more now that they’ve broken out of nu rock. I think their electronic music feels more real in a way. It’s more powerful and poetic rather than excessively woeful and melodramatic. It’s very refreshing to me. The band has matured with their fan base although the fan base has been tragically divided since Minutes to Midnight. Upon the release of A Thousand Suns, fans have either rejected the new sound because this wasn’t what they loved, or embraced it as an artistic development while claiming that accepting the changes that their favorite band experiences is what true fans do. I’m more inclined toward the latter.

I was thirteen when I first became a fan of Linkin Park and I have loved their music very much throughout my adolescent years. The music and lyrics from their first two albums Hybrid Theory and Meteora spoke to me. The raw anguish and sorrow bubbled into a deliciously sour stew; how could I, as a victim of bullying dealing with disappointment over wasted potential, not swallow it up? I felt release upon Chester Bennington’s screams; I felt power upon Mike Shinoda’s rapping. The exquisite blending of rock and hip-hop put me in awe; the absence of profanity earned the band my respect for expressing angst without needing swear words to drive a point.

But I entered college and my life changed forever. I gained the friends I have craved for so long. I experienced acceptance from peers who didn’t laugh or make faces when I expressed my self. I also gained a wide amount of knowledge from philosophy and literature. I learned to appreciate the human experience and everything that comes with it. I learned that art encompasses a wide range of media and genres that appeal to an even wider range of tastes; for example, I agree that Metallica and KISS are epic pop culture icons although I don’t appreciate their music all that much. In other words, I think I have a clear idea on what good music is and Linkin Park’s new sound is just that.

Also, shortly before the release of Minutes to Midnight, I’ve encountered “haters” on the internet that label Linkin Park as “emo” for their melodramatic lyrics; they hated Linkin Park exactly for what I had loved them for in the first place. At first, I laughed it off because it is true that Linkin Park is known for songs that explore rather shallow adolescent issues like self-hate and parental “neglect”. But after some contemplation, I realized that those complaints about Linkin Park are legitimate; there are more issues worth singing about than an anonymous person not caring about you.

So when I listened to Minutes to Midnight, I experienced healing and hope and maturity. I’ve grown up and so has my favorite band. They’re not the way they used to be; the same can be said for me, and I’m glad I’ve left the old “me” behind. Linkin Park is Linkin Park no matter what kind of music they play, just as Stephen King exudes as much talent in Children of the Corn as in Hearts in Atlantis.

Then, A Thousand Suns came out, bringing back the electronic sound that was largely absent from Minutes to Midnight. I love that about A Thousand Suns. And the songs are relentless, unrepentant and unforgiving; a few of them have subtly attacked old songs, indicating newfound hope and freedom as well as a mature perspective of the world. Minimal profanity has also been put to use too, which is surprisingly not a big deal. Linkin Park has gone on record to say that in playing a new sound in this new album, they are not interested in selling records but in artistic expression, an exploration of new music with profound poetry.

I have great respect for Linkin Park. As an artist myself, I want to follow in their footsteps and shine with the light of a thousand suns too.

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