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Looking Back: Saying Goodbye To My Childhood
Date: Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Time: 7:02 AM
Personal Thoughts: This was originally posted on my Facebook Account last July 31, 2011.
I was nearly late to the ending of my childhood. Just seen Harry Potter the other day.
I'd only gotten home at two in the morning, and the end was to begin at 9:30 in the morning. And because the world is conspiring against me on that morning in particular, my bus with the petrol fumes spilling out the back into the crisp morning air, pulled up around ten minutes late.
Still, I made it there on time -- well, only a minute or two late -- for the end. Even if I did have to run down, and take a short cut through the stations beneath the city streets, it was all worth it to get there on time.
Later, my friend told me that if I'd come the first day of showing, I'd have experienced the best part. The way the boys and girls, eighteen, nineteen, twenty and dressed in preppy school uniforms with a crest featuring a familiar badger, snake, eagle, and lion all surrounding a large letter H, greeted each other by saying "Hello, fellow wizards".
Me, I think this kind of nerdiness is awesome. I think in my childhood, I would have found it more awesome. I am sad I missed it, but at least I was there, stumbling up the cinema steps into the hushed, darkened theatre before the movie began.
I want to say that I loved the movie. That I loved every last minute of my childhood's ending, but the truth is that sometimes my friend was distracted by my melodramatic laughter, or tears, the way I accidentally knocked an entire tub of popcorn into the aisle by jumping at one point. And my 2:00am bedtime the night before meant that sometimes my attention was divided between The Dark Lord vs Harry Potter vs my sleepiness, or the chill of the cinema.
Still it was amazing. I no longer want to experience a transformation like Cinderella. I want to experience a transformation like a female version of Neville Longbottom. Old Draco was a laugh. Albus Severus Potter sniffed every ten seconds and was adorable and Severus Snape made me tear up behind my 3D glasses.
I wished that it wouldn't end, but it did. My childhood slowly died. It only took a few hours and by the end of it, I felt grown up. More grown up than I did after my eighteenth birthday. More grown up, even, than when I go out and don't get asked for ID.
Afterwards, we hung around the cinema, staring at the posters of characters who'd become our childhood friends. We milled around in the shabby exhibition in the cinema had put together, marveling over bits and bobs of paper from the films of the set. The stupidest things, really, apart from this gorgeous dress of Luna Lovegood's, but there was a sense that you had to marvel. You had to be awed, because this was the end.
And then we left the scene of the crime, the place where our childhoods died, and we went and got a late lunch. At an almost respectable establishment that didn't serve hamburgers or french fries or pizza or anything like that. And then we went to a café and I ordered two long blacks, because God I was still tired from the night before. And the barista looked at me like I was crazy because how many people like me like their coffee that strong with no sugar?
But my childhood had just died. I wasn't in the mood to justify anything.
Much later that day, when I got home, I searched for my ticket. The one with Cinema 3, and that fantastic title, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, emblazoned upon it, I dumped the entire contents of my wallet and bag out onto my desk, turning over odd stuffs that I didn't know I had in the process, but it wasn't there. The ticket was gone. My childhood was gone.
So this is me saying, goodbye to my childhood.
Labels: Adaptation, Films, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part Two, J.K. Rowling, My Own Journey, Personal Thoughts
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Lose Yourself in Books
Date: Sunday, January 10, 2016
Time: 6:18 AM
Personal Thoughts:
In the course of three years that I have been reading and collecting books, it has enabled me to create a myriad of memories with them, not only because of the experiences I have gone through alongside them. I have been advised more than once to let go of my books. Some people say it outright whilst some do in subtle way. But I can't. They think because of the money I've invested in them. But it's not. It's way more than that. Money is replaceable. But books are not. Neither is it because of bragging rights. My collection is nothing but trivial to brag about. So no, it's not because I need to have more to brag about on Instagram and Facebook. There are reasons, real reasons why I can never let go of my books.
As a person with so many issues, I have attempted to end things up a handful of times already. It began with really doing it to simply thinking about it. Because every time I do, my books comfort me, the mere sight of them a patch of color in my black and white life. My books are more than just books. I live for them. They have become more than just a compilation of chapters and pages that contain a whole new different world. They have become a reason for me to keep going. Whenever I feel like giving up, of quitting, of ending my life, I simply glance at them and I start to realize just how much I have to lose if I let go. It's kind of funny, even, that I think it's more of a waste if I die and my books would be left untouched without heirs on my shelf, than taking my own life.
- The fictional characters have become my real friends.
It may be a "joke" to some people, when they claim that fictional characters are their friends, but it does hold true for me. I have met and lost quite a couple of friends since I started college, to the extent where I felt so alone and devastated. The fictional characters in my books where the only ones who made me feel otherwise; that despite them not being real, the adventures and journeys that they have been in became my very own. Every time I read about them, I feel like I am right with them. I feel like I can confide just about anything in them because they cannot judge me, they cannot tell me in my face that I am downright wrong. They can always symphatise with me. And the best part is they never leave, well, unless they die, that is.
- The stories distract me from depression
I have suffered from depression, perhaps I still do at times. Maybe not as grave compared to others', but it still did trigger me to do things I would regret after. Prior to my inclination to reading, I would always resort to self-harm. I would hit the wall multiple times until my knuckles are numb from pain. But ever since I became acquainted with the said activity, I would simply flop down my bed and read. I would become distracted with someone else's story, someone else's problems to solve that I would forget my own. So instead of dwelling on my loneliness that would only make me feel worse, I would turn to reading and I would read and read and read until I am finally prepared to let go of the pain.
These reasons may seem odd to you but they're utterly helpful. I know some would try to tell me that there is God, and that God is capable of doing all these for me but what if they're actually God's instruments?
Labels: Books, Bookworm, Life Notes, My Own Journey, Personal Thoughts
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Looking Back: Saying Goodbye To My Childhood
Personal Thoughts: This was originally posted on my Facebook Account last July 31, 2011.
I was nearly late to the ending of my childhood. Just seen Harry Potter the other day.
I'd only gotten home at two in the morning, and the end was to begin at 9:30 in the morning. And because the world is conspiring against me on that morning in particular, my bus with the petrol fumes spilling out the back into the crisp morning air, pulled up around ten minutes late.
Still, I made it there on time -- well, only a minute or two late -- for the end. Even if I did have to run down, and take a short cut through the stations beneath the city streets, it was all worth it to get there on time.
Later, my friend told me that if I'd come the first day of showing, I'd have experienced the best part. The way the boys and girls, eighteen, nineteen, twenty and dressed in preppy school uniforms with a crest featuring a familiar badger, snake, eagle, and lion all surrounding a large letter H, greeted each other by saying "Hello, fellow wizards".
Me, I think this kind of nerdiness is awesome. I think in my childhood, I would have found it more awesome. I am sad I missed it, but at least I was there, stumbling up the cinema steps into the hushed, darkened theatre before the movie began.
I want to say that I loved the movie. That I loved every last minute of my childhood's ending, but the truth is that sometimes my friend was distracted by my melodramatic laughter, or tears, the way I accidentally knocked an entire tub of popcorn into the aisle by jumping at one point. And my 2:00am bedtime the night before meant that sometimes my attention was divided between The Dark Lord vs Harry Potter vs my sleepiness, or the chill of the cinema.
Still it was amazing. I no longer want to experience a transformation like Cinderella. I want to experience a transformation like a female version of Neville Longbottom. Old Draco was a laugh. Albus Severus Potter sniffed every ten seconds and was adorable and Severus Snape made me tear up behind my 3D glasses.
I wished that it wouldn't end, but it did. My childhood slowly died. It only took a few hours and by the end of it, I felt grown up. More grown up than I did after my eighteenth birthday. More grown up, even, than when I go out and don't get asked for ID.
Afterwards, we hung around the cinema, staring at the posters of characters who'd become our childhood friends. We milled around in the shabby exhibition in the cinema had put together, marveling over bits and bobs of paper from the films of the set. The stupidest things, really, apart from this gorgeous dress of Luna Lovegood's, but there was a sense that you had to marvel. You had to be awed, because this was the end.
And then we left the scene of the crime, the place where our childhoods died, and we went and got a late lunch. At an almost respectable establishment that didn't serve hamburgers or french fries or pizza or anything like that. And then we went to a café and I ordered two long blacks, because God I was still tired from the night before. And the barista looked at me like I was crazy because how many people like me like their coffee that strong with no sugar?
But my childhood had just died. I wasn't in the mood to justify anything.
Much later that day, when I got home, I searched for my ticket. The one with Cinema 3, and that fantastic title, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows, emblazoned upon it, I dumped the entire contents of my wallet and bag out onto my desk, turning over odd stuffs that I didn't know I had in the process, but it wasn't there. The ticket was gone. My childhood was gone.
So this is me saying, goodbye to my childhood.
Labels: Adaptation, Films, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows Part Two, J.K. Rowling, My Own Journey, Personal Thoughts
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Lose Yourself in Books
Personal Thoughts:
In the course of three years that I have been reading and collecting books, it has enabled me to create a myriad of memories with them, not only because of the experiences I have gone through alongside them. I have been advised more than once to let go of my books. Some people say it outright whilst some do in subtle way. But I can't. They think because of the money I've invested in them. But it's not. It's way more than that. Money is replaceable. But books are not. Neither is it because of bragging rights. My collection is nothing but trivial to brag about. So no, it's not because I need to have more to brag about on Instagram and Facebook. There are reasons, real reasons why I can never let go of my books.
As a person with so many issues, I have attempted to end things up a handful of times already. It began with really doing it to simply thinking about it. Because every time I do, my books comfort me, the mere sight of them a patch of color in my black and white life. My books are more than just books. I live for them. They have become more than just a compilation of chapters and pages that contain a whole new different world. They have become a reason for me to keep going. Whenever I feel like giving up, of quitting, of ending my life, I simply glance at them and I start to realize just how much I have to lose if I let go. It's kind of funny, even, that I think it's more of a waste if I die and my books would be left untouched without heirs on my shelf, than taking my own life.
- The fictional characters have become my real friends.
It may be a "joke" to some people, when they claim that fictional characters are their friends, but it does hold true for me. I have met and lost quite a couple of friends since I started college, to the extent where I felt so alone and devastated. The fictional characters in my books where the only ones who made me feel otherwise; that despite them not being real, the adventures and journeys that they have been in became my very own. Every time I read about them, I feel like I am right with them. I feel like I can confide just about anything in them because they cannot judge me, they cannot tell me in my face that I am downright wrong. They can always symphatise with me. And the best part is they never leave, well, unless they die, that is.
- The stories distract me from depression
I have suffered from depression, perhaps I still do at times. Maybe not as grave compared to others', but it still did trigger me to do things I would regret after. Prior to my inclination to reading, I would always resort to self-harm. I would hit the wall multiple times until my knuckles are numb from pain. But ever since I became acquainted with the said activity, I would simply flop down my bed and read. I would become distracted with someone else's story, someone else's problems to solve that I would forget my own. So instead of dwelling on my loneliness that would only make me feel worse, I would turn to reading and I would read and read and read until I am finally prepared to let go of the pain.
These reasons may seem odd to you but they're utterly helpful. I know some would try to tell me that there is God, and that God is capable of doing all these for me but what if they're actually God's instruments?
Labels: Books, Bookworm, Life Notes, My Own Journey, Personal Thoughts
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