Eyewitness
Goosebumps.
That’s what I got when I heard America’s new president speak in front of an estimated one million ++ people in Chicago on US election night. I was so moved by his speech, and I’m not even an American. I can’t imagine what Americans felt. Or what African-Americans felt right in that historic moment.
Maybe it wasn’t just Obama’s speech that gave me goosebumps, but the entire setting where it took place – a sea of people that in a way reminded me of EDSA. That familiar patriotic feeling you just can’t deny always tugs at my heartstrings.
But still, somehow, Obama really has that effect on people, that even I, a non-American, was deeply moved, almost to tears. No other president has had that effect on me, except maybe Bill Pullman on ID4 – and that’s not even real.
I feel lucky to be part of this sort of “people power” again, to be alive as another huge mark is made in history.
Good job, America. You gave me hope. And now I can say, I am mighty proud of you.
Labels: obama, us life
Sadista
Listening to Chico and Delamar (yes, I do listen to them as often as Windows Media Player allows me too, so batiin nyo ko!) on Halloween day (Philippine time) made me regret my decision to tune in.
I wanted to listen to some other station, but I needed their familiar voice to make me feel like I had company even if I was home alone with my baby. But the scary entries that made it into their top 10 “Things to Say to Someone Who’s Gone,” combined with the dark that was slowly creeping into the west coast, seriously made my imagination run crazy.
Still, I couldn’t turn them off. The way Chico and Del scared themselves reminded me of hilarious days with my friends and family and how we scared ourselves out of our pants for fun, too.
I remember those times when my cousins and I would share scary stories during sleepovers at our lola’s house, or in Tagaytay where we would spend New Year’s Eve. Then we’d attempt to go down a particularly creepy, dark road by their house, having only glow sticks (like they helped at all). We’d all scare each other and scream and cry from laughing because we were so ridiculously scared.
Just like countless nights in Raz’s condo with my college orgmates, telling stories that made us scream and hide under a big blanket and make sure there was a living, breathing body next to each of us.
Or that time when we went down that dark isolated road outside Raz’s house one night in Caliraya. We were in our pajamas and decided to walk arm in arm in the dark, but because nobody wanted to end up on either side or be left at the back, we ended up walking, or rather, moving in a chaotic, weird kind of stampede where you don’t really know where your feet are anymore, yet you are swept with the crowd.
Back then, I could say, relatively, matapang ako. Scaring each other is fun, until you’re left alone and the scary images stay in your mind – but even that I didn’t mind. I’m ok alone even after a scare session.
Until two movies happened: Sixth Sense and Ringu. I blame Nonie and my elearning pals. And my friends in filgifts. And myself, because I couldn’t stand being left out of the fun of scaring ourselves.
I saw both Sixth Sense and Ring 1 in the movies, then the pre-quel and the rest of the sequels on VCD with my filgifts friends. And then I remember one night of non-stop takutan with my college "group 2" friends over dinner and coffee. They drove me home at 3AM, but I seriously couldn’t get out of the car to go inside my dark, creepily quiet house.
It was then that I realized, my takot wall has broken down. I would imagine many different sixth-sense beings and would have flashes of Sadako and her arthritis-inflicted hands in my mind as I brushed my hair in the mirror. And it really affected me. It took me over a month to recover.
Since then, horror movies were banished from my movies-to-watch list (if I can help it), and I swear I haven’t seen any of the new Asian horror films since I moved here in the US where there is no maid to keep me company when nobody else is home.
I do miss those moments of scary fun, but until I have a maid or someone who will be a mainstay here at home, I’m keeping away from anything creepy. But what if there WAS some mainstayer here at my house na di ko lang nakikita…?
Patay. Takutin na naman ba ang sarili.
Happy thoughts, Mel. Happy thoughts…
Labels: halloween, horror, us life
Goosebumps.
