Dark Knight Forever

It's official! Filming has wrapped on one of the most anticipated movies of next year. This movie is none other than The Dark Knight Rises. It is the last in the Christopher Nolan trilogy story-arc. And is set to blow our fucking minds. Give in to the inevitable, boys and girls. (For more mind-blowing, see Inception)

In 2005, the Batman franchise was rebooted into a gritty, realistic successor. The first film, Batman Begins, went back to its roots to explain how Batman came to be. It set the bar for gritty reboots everywhere, especially when talking about superhero movies. The only popular movie before would be Sam Raimi's Spider-Man. In a way, it had paved way for superhero movies.

In Batman Begins, it shows Bruce Wayne as he was before he put on the cowl; his journeys away from Gotham and his training with Ra's al Ghul. In the eyes of the League of Shadows, Gotham City is deemed corrupt and must be cleansed (burned to the ground). But like Bruce's father, Thomas Wayne, he believed that Gotham still has a chance. And with that premise, he chose to be Batman to become a symbol that Gotham needed.

The origins of the story of Batman had always been a standard. The witnessing of the murder of his parents had always remained constant. This was especially hard to reboot(in the comic books) because, essentially, Batman's origins are perfect.

In the old version of Batman which was directed by Tim Burton, Bruce had seen the murder of his parents, but in showed that Joker, in someway, did it. In the 2005 reboot, Joe Chill kills his parents when they go out of the opera house in a hurry. Although willing to hand over their belongings,   the mugger still killed the unfortunate couple which in turn set the stage for Batman.

                  Alfred Pennyworth: Why bats, Master Wayne?
                  Bruce Wayne: Bats frighten me. It's time my enemies shared my dread.


Bats have become a fear of Bruce, since falling down a well into a cave, when he was younger. This fear indirectly led to the murder of his parents, and also the creation of Batman. Through the training with Ra's al Ghul, he has learned to embrace his fear. And he epitomizes it, by being putting on the cowl.


Since the release of Batman Begins, people had wanted to look more into the adventures of the Dark Knight. Inevitably, a sequel was released in 2008, The Dark Knight. The film was a massive hit, largely because of Heath Ledger's haunting performance of the Joker, Batman's archenemy.


The film itself depicted chaos through the doings of Joker. It also showed the morals of Batman were threatened by the horrors of Joker's evil deeds. Batman has always shown an aversion to killing. It was his number 1 rule, and in someway his greatest flaw. 


Joker's intent on having Batman break his "one rule," led to the destruction of Gotham City, the death of the love of his life, and her lover, Gotham's White Knight. This was a dilemma on Batman, when asked to choose between two locations that were set to blow up. Batman had intended to save Rachel, but to his dismay he was lead the wrong way by the Joker. 


The death of Rachel also made it easier for Gotham's White Knight to fall in the hands of the Joker. The grief of Rachel's death paved the way for Two-Face to come to life. Basing his actions with a flip of a coin, he left everything to luck. 

                        Joker: Uhh, you... You just couldn't let me go, could you? This is what happens when an                  unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You truly are incorruptible, aren't you? You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness... and I won't kill you because you're just too much fun! I think you and I are destined to do this forever.


Gotham's White Knight had already been changed. And in the end, he died when he and Batman fell. And although Batman was not responsible for the death, he chose to be. So that the city would not lose hope on it's once great leader. 


The ending showed Batman running away from the Police. And Lt. James Gordon says to his child that Batman is the hero that Gotham deserves, but not the one it needs. 


And credits roll.


The second installment was a success. And people can't wait for the sequel, especially me who has become very invested in the franchise. 


I had followed the development of this epic since its announcement, which only made it more exciting for me. I would look at leaked photos from the set, and follow with the interviews the cast made. But nothing gets you pumped up for a movie more than viral marketing.


The very first campaign for the new movie was the official website that had audio of people chanting. And that led to a twitter account. If a twitter user placed #TheFireRises and mentions the twitter account, the user would be part of a mosaic that would eventually become the first official photo of Tom Hardy as Bane.


I was very excited to be part of it, pictures of every user had become a pixel to the large image and I had been a part of the process. Social media had really paved the way for viral marketing.


Months later, a trailer was released. It was attached to the last film in the Harry Potter series. It was Gordon talking, and there were chants at the end of it. And that's another thing right there.


Hans Zimmer, the person who scores the film, crowdsourced online. He invited everyone to chant the words to be part of the phenomenon. And being myself, I got on the bandwagon and recorded my chant like a crazy person. 


With a release date of July 20, 2012, it couldn't be farther away. But with each passing day, the set date draws closer and closer! I'm even watching Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol on IMAX to get a glimpse of the movie's prologue.


Can't wait! 


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This post just goes to show how I'm such a fan. Ask anyone, they'll agree. This isn't my best post, probably very redundant, in fact. Mind me.

Literary Wyrm

I had just finished reading a book.

One thing I really wanted to read since it first came out was Dan Brown's The Lost Symbol. Having read all except one of his books, Dan Brown was fast becoming my favorite author. The third book in the series which features professor Robert Langdon who specializes in symbology.

I had taken interest in his books because of the then controversial release of The Da Vinci Code. My sister and I then bought all the books by Dan Brown: Deception Point, Digital Fortress, Angels and Demons, and The Da Vinci Code. And just because it piqued my curiosity more, I read The Da Vinci Code first, not thinking that it was the 2nd book in the series. I like Angels & Demons better.

The only Dan Brown book I haven't read was Deception Point. I had only started to read it, but I put it down after reading a couple pages. I had gotten lazy, since reading Digital Fortress which kind of disappointed me. But people tell me that the book is good, and I'll probably go back to reading it, and finishing this time.

The Lost Symbol is the most recent book I've read, but a couple of months before I had read The Little Prince which I read in one night. I am proud, the only other book I've read in a night was Mitch Albom's For One More Day. I read it, simply because I was bored. And a few weeks before reading The Little Prince, I read George R. R. Martin's  A Game of Thrones from the series A Song of Ice and Fire. I wish to read all the books in the series.

I only read A Game of Thrones because I had watched the HBO adaptation of it, Game of Thrones. I saw the series before reading the book and still felt compelled to read it. And after reading the book, I watched every episode again and found that I understood the whole mythos more, even noticed slight changes from the book, like the renaming of Jon Arryn's child into Robin, rather than Robert. This was done so that viewers would not confuse him with Robert Baratheon, from which the child was named.

I'm no bookworm, that's for sure. But with all the books I've read, I actually read more than a lot of my friends who don't read at all. This is with the exception of school books, of course. But if that counts, I lost the reading contest.

And I realized somewhere along writing this post that I only read books that are popular. I've even read the Twilight series by Stephenie Meyer. This would put-off most male readers because the Twilight series is intended for teenage girls. I don't mind having read the series, and if someone asks me, I'll say Team Jacob.

One series that I haven't read yet is the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. The books always seem to elude me. The only book I've read is the first, and having seen all movies, some plot points are already known to me. If someone's reading this post right now who hasn't seen the movies, but is reading the novels first, you heard it here first. Dumbledore is GAY. You're welcome.

There are a lot of books out there that have a cult following, most of this involving some form of mythology that only expands with every passing book. Some books that adapted to film are even more famous as a film than it's source, Jurassic Park is one quite example.

There are some books that I've read that are quite surprising even for me, just because I've read it. I've read a novel by R. A. Salvatore, a very popular author known for his Forgotten Realms books. The name of the book fazed me, but after a minute of searching the net by typing a few keywords I remembered, I can say that the title of the book was The Crystal Shard which is part of The Icewind Dale trilogy.

I've actually really just want to read more these days, but without funding I'm stuck with reading eBooks which is, for me, harder to read. There's really just a different feeling with flipping a page with your finger. Most days, I just watch TV series and lie in bed.

And honestly, reading just seemed like a better hobby.

Four Things

Why am I so lazy? The notion of me being responsible is laughable, my laughter is quite indistinguishable when the topic's brought up.

Before I continue writing this post, one thing that needs to get out there is that I failed two of my subjects this 1st semester. And how do I feel about it? Let's just say the words "great" and "awesome" are very inappropriate at this time in my life.

Things should have been easier. I get that. With 2 subjects already off my plate (due to failing one subject prior), my load is lighter. Therefore, easier to have dealt with. Plus, most subjects were easy. I'm not trying to sound cocky, but in retrospect to previous semesters, this one was actually a load off.

Taking the shit for granted? Maybe. Probable, most likely.

It's not actually a surprise to anyone, especially me that I failed. Actually, I had predicted such an occurrence and just kind of wished it wouldn't come true. But alas, the sisters of fate just wanted to pull my threads and prove I am the psychic they wanted me to be. (Note to self: New goal in life, be a psychic.)

My classmate once told me sometime after the 1st semester of last year (which I passed) that if I had failed during that ordeal, she wouldn't have been surprised. And that she's also not surprised to find out that we were still classmates during that semester. Well, I'm not surprised we're still gonna be classmates for failing a subject or two (for her) that semester.

Well, it's not as easy as being a regular irregular student. Although being an irregular student made it easy per se, the addition of one plus subject on my load was a heavy add-on. It was like ordering a burger meal at McDonald's, but supersized, if they still had that. (Refer to film: Supersize Me) For regular students it was like having the same meal except that burger's a quarter pounder, or a half, or a whole. You pick, you have to be a regular student though.

The perfect metaphor for being a regular student.

Once a upon a before my failure, I once bragged to a friend of mine for failing a few subjects that I was still a regular student. I joke to him about it because he takes it pretty lightly, doesn't take it in too deep. And during this semester when I was already an irregular student, he didn't taunt me about it. It's either because I might take it badly and unfriend him on facebook or because he knows I could just as easily get back at him. Nevertheless, not a peep from that guy. Not a word.

Delayed anyway. This isn't really a bad thing. Considering the fact that I already am dialing back another year because of one failure, I might as well fail a few subjects for the hell of it. Well, the idea is that if I passed every single one of my subjects, the course load next year would be like a feather. With my calculations with the present class schedule, I would have had classes only on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays; half days, no less.

But with my idiocy, I decided to fail as to fatten the feather up. If we refer back to the metaphor, all I've left eating is a bun and  fry. That is all there is really to make me sleep at night.

Timing. My timing has been off with the teachers. During practical exams, I'd get picked and everything that comes out, I don't get. There was this instance though, the most giving teacher had picked me. BUT, at the last possible moment she gets switched to my least favorite teacher, which in turn failed me. It was like sitting on an invisible chair while playing Trip to Jerusalem.

Of course, if I had studied, the teacher wouldn't have mattered. But in all fairness, it would have helped. See, there is an open challenge to anyone who can make the most hardcore teacher give them the highest mark possible, if not, at least a passing grade. Most of these challenges are neglected, unlucky ones just wished they died on the spot.

As a friend of mine told me, just recently in fact, that good education takes time. Well, how good an education am I supposed to get if I'm stuck like this for four years less of a decade?

Damn, I'm reading too much Crack, I mean Cracked.

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Good education takes time? Screw you, Jame.

Documentary

With a press of a button, it was ready to go. The red circle blinked away at the upper right corner on the digital screen, where the actual recording could be seen. The bright red light lit to signify that they had begun recording.

"It's another day on the Velez Jungle..," he said in his fake Australian accent. He wanted to come off as someone adventurous which simply meant putting on an accent resembling the more daring kinds of people in front of documentaries and television shows. But unlike those people, he never showed his face in front of the camera. He held the camera with vigor, and kept saying what came in his mind. Whatever random thing.

The star of his little documentary was Theo Mari, though known more as TM. TM was wearing his plain white V neck shirt and his navy blue school pants, as they were filming inside its vicinity. TM's eccentricities and idiosyncrasies worked well with the randomness of their film as it had worked once before.

Their previous efforts had proved funny enough to garner enough praise from their classmates, enough for their classmates to actually expect a sequel, but not so much so to really see one in the near future, or ever. Their last film had the uniqueness of being very unplanned, just a random afternoon with a camcorder, an willing character, and a crazy director.

"..not just some other day, but the..," he continued on in a mildly English accent. "...day we find out if we still become regulars in the next semester."

His speech sounded controlled, forced. But he urged on, wanting to make the impact his last project came out to be. His last project was made on a whim, something to show before TM's production, similar to movies at the cinema. TM's own project, a simple retelling of Gilgamesh, was overshadowed by the sleeper hit of his "trailer." The three-minute venture was repeated twice more after TM's main project. TM wasn't bothered by it, his ego was large enough to see that he himself starred in the trailer.

"Here are a few tips to survive Judgment day," he referenced his older work. The trailer had given viewers three tips to survive "The Velez Jungle." The school had many trees, enough to get its namesake in the short film. But over the years, the number of flora at the school had slowly diminished due to increasing cases of dengue fever.

"First, you need your admission slip," he started, accent and all. TM in his self, hopped on leg to another and showed the camera his piece of white paper. The admission slip was a piece of paper you had to have signed during your final examinations. It contained all the subjects enrolled in the current semester. Failure to at least bring the thing on that day was prevention of taking the final exam altogether, but some teachers were forgiving.

TM still smiling as he waved the piece of paper back and forth across the camera. He gave a thumbs up sign, gave a large grin, and placed the admission slip back into his pocket where it had come from. It may  had been small, but losing it could place one in a very bad position and about twenty pesos poorer.

"Second, you need...a...pen," he was out of words to say and less of an accent to say it with. To put things into consideration, if the teacher somehow manages to run out of ink writing down grades, and is without a new pen to write with, then yours can be the extra one he needs. The teacher could probably add a few points in there which is unlikely, but a student who valiantly gave his pen to a teacher would be no doubt be hopeful.

TM looked at the camera and nodded, with the dumbfounded look on his face shadowed by the pair of sunglasses he used to cover his eyes from the luminescent light bulbs in the small room. He reached down to his pocket and drew out the admission slip, placing it on a table right next to him. He emptied both his pockets, realizing that he had not brought a pen with him. It was understandable, classes were not being held on those days, something the director had not thought to consider.

The camera still focused on TM started to shake, and a pen came in view from the bottom. TM took the pen and held it in front of the camera, and he smiled his wide smile. He quickly replaced all his belongings back into his pockets, the pen with them. The director made no mention about his pen.

"Third, you need to pray," alluding his older work yet again. His older work was made in views that the animals, the students, were savages hunting for prey with the three items being "a spear made out of rock," "protective headgear for the eyes (eyegear)," and the need to search for prey, which was shown as "pray" the first time and corrected into the correct word. All "hunting tips" in his short film were filmed in a sequence of checklists, with the first two having the actual objects and the third, being just the words in the shot. Pray in this sense, had a more deeper meaning in context.

TM in his person just looked straight forward at the camera and gave himself the sign of the cross. The small room they had been was where they had their classes on normal weekends. Just outside and left of the room was a door that led to another classroom. And a few steps more outside the classroom was the faculty room.

The faculty room's double doors opened and the teacher was telling the students to bring their admission slips to him. The camera panned quickly to show the many students flocking around the teacher to give him their pieces of white paper. TM stood up and followed suit, out the door and outside the faculty room. The director slid his paper at the bottom of the camera for TM to give along with his own.

"Now, we wait," he exclaimed, accent and all. Panning from student to student, waiting for their names to be called. "The anticipation could kill a man, they say."

Some students shown in the screen awkwardly nodded.

"Now, we're just sitting here, waiting," the director said, in a mix of English and Australian. TM shown again on the screen, nodded and sat down on the floor. And the camera followed down as the director sat beside TM.

The camera just stared idly on the closed double doors of the faculty room in what they had all felt like forever. TM keeping his smile and talking to others. As one side of the door opened, the teacher went out and stood as to block the door from closing, and started calling out names one by one. And one by one, they all stood and got their papers. The few called first all jumped and screamed in delight. And some waddled and looked down at the floor. "..Theo Mari Ortiz!" the teacher finally yelled.

The camera followed TM towards and the faculty room double doors. TM, still smiling. TM grabbed the piece of paper and removed his sunglasses to have a better look at it. The teacher gave the director's piece of paper and he reached down and took it. He focused the camera on his paper.

"YES!" he shouted, accent forgotten. He panned the camera quickly to TM, to find out he had already left his side. The director ran and looked for TM in the classroom. TM was sitting on a chair on the far side of the room. The camera focused on TM for a moment, and the red dot blinked for the last time.

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Bleed Me Dry

Still fresh from Intrams, I was not ready to go to school yet. The previous week had gave such a lot of excitement. From the games to the dance competition, last week was really a blast.  But as fun as it was, it had to end and be revisited again next year.

My 450 mL of blood

Class had not started on time, which was only dragging everything along. When the teacher got to the room, there was no projector he could use. So, he assigned us to topics to report on another day. With less than an hour until my break started, the group planned out whatever we had to do for the report. And with that, my break had begun. With the impulse of a bored irregular student, I went to Red Cross to donate blood.

Blood donation was always a thing I had always wanted to do. And almost a year ago, I had done it. With the benefits of renewal of your RBCs and giving your blood out to those who really need it, there was no bad side to donating. Well, there is the pain of course. But, we'll get to that later.

The lady who bled me my first time I donated had given me a card to keep. The card was a small yellow paper with my name. It served as a record for how many times I've donated blood. The card collected dust for the most of the past year, but I had put it back in my wallet because I had the thought of donating more blood.

A week or two ago, a friend posted a status on facebook asking who were blood type B+ because her mom needed a transfusion. And seeing that I was healthy and eager to donate blood, I quickly responded. A day had been planned to finally go and get myself bled, but things didn't go well. I ended up not donating blood that day, another person had donated. And today, the mom is out of the hospital.

I would've donated a lot sooner, but the lady told me they were only open to blood donations on Mondays. Any other day, you would have to schedule an appointment or something. And for a while then, I had no time to go out from school on Mondays. But come my first semester of being an irregular student, I was finally available to donate blood.

Red Cross was a small building beside the Cebu Public Library, a landmark always associated with the facility. The distance between the school was not far. But after discussing it with some friends, I opted to take a ride going there because I might not be able to donate if I looked remotely fatigued.

There were steps to follow before donating blood. I remembered there only being three. What the steps say, I cannot recall.

First, I had to read a piece of paper. It stated the things I can't have done if I were to continue with the process. The most prominent rule of not being able to donate is having HIV, a rule I found appropriate. It also mentioned things about having a piercing or tattoo which were more or else standard.

After, they gave me a form. I had to check if the scenarios applied to me. Questions on the form were in a form of yes/no. It had questions like if I had cancer, or if I had drank alcohol within the past few days. Most of my answers were no, but I had ticked yes on lung problems and leaving the country. Leaving the country proved to be a problem when they had to ask a superior if I was able to donate, seeing that I left the country for a month or so. But it was quickly resolved and I was back on my way through the steps.

The only thing I had truly hated my first time donating was the lancet. The lancet was a small pin used to prick a finger so they could get a blood sample to determine my blood type and whether or not I was anemic. I had to relive this moment again earlier, and it hurt like hell.

After a quick check-up from the doctor there, I was ready to be bled. The place to do the bleeding was in a van parked outside the facility, which would have easily passed as a front for a small drug cartel. (But it's not, I think it important to mention that.) The reason probably for that was because the seats were reclined and they had arm rests.

So, I sat down and laid my arm on the rest. The person in charge of bleeding me quickly placed a pillow under my elbow and applied alcohol and betadine (povidone iodine) to make sure the wound would not be infected. She reached down to her kit and got the bag, the one where my blood goes, and attached to the end of it, the needle which was considerably long and thick.

She put on the tourniquet on my upper arm and searched for my vein. After she had located it, it was time to insert the needle. As she forced the needle onto my skin, the pain was a kind of weird. The oozing blood didn't help. The blood didn't go through the tube and into the bag. Instead, it spewed outwards and towards my white uniform, a thing that did not happen during my first time. The medical technician apologized and rushed to find a superior who had applied it properly. Things like that tend to happen when the vein gets hit directly, she said.

The actual bleeding took up to almost a half hour. I was given another sticker for my yellow card, a pack of orange juice and a band aid. After the whole process, I was told to sit back awhile so I wouldn't faint when I stood up. Well, I thought so. The guilty conscience of the lady made her clean my uniform. They had applied a NSS (normal saline solution) to rid the stain which worked. Clearly, they've done this before. One of them even said Hydrogen Peroxide would've worked better. Clearly. But in all fairness, they were nice. All of them were. A trait probably acquired from bleeding a person.




When I got back to school, I felt light headed. They had warned me to not look down as it would cause dizziness and/or nausea. But I urged on, school would end in a couple of hours anyway. Lunch was weird, things were happening that might have been caused by my blood loss. Either they really were, or my friends are assholes.

During my last class of the day, bored out of my mind, I challenged my friend to a game of chess. This friend of mine was a really good player having competed in the Milo Little Olympics when she was younger and in the school's own Intramurals. I had never beaten her ever since my liking to play better at chess. Until today.

The move that caused her downfall was really just her own fault. She had left her queen to be eaten by mine. Even without a queen, she still fought ferociously. But I proved victorious, if only the one time I would have been able to do so. Feeling robbed, she challenged me to another game. She won, but the feeling of winning against a better player never got away from me.

So, today I donated blood which inevitably gave me superpowers to win at chess.

It was a good day.

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If one donates a total of 9 times with the yellow card, he is called a galloner. After that, he may be able to donate every two months, rather than the usual three month gap.

New goal: Be a galloner.

Those living in the Cebu area who are willing to donate, healthy, and above 50kgs may be able to donate blood at the Red Cross office, beside the Cebu Public Library.

A Thousand Paper Cranes

A friend of mine, an avid fan of Japanese culture, told me about the Expo, and we met there. The expo showcased many different aspects of Japanese culture; the wearing of kimonos, calligraphy, among other things. One thing that really caught my attention was Origami, or the art of folding paper.

I already know one thing to make during that time, the traditional Tsuru or the crane. When I saw the small table where they were doing their Origami, they were doing the crane too, and a box, out of all things. Mostly simple origami, but still a beautiful art.

After seeing them, I bought sheets of origami paper. I didn't start then and there, but about a week after the expo. I had looked up videos on youtube on how to make some simple designs. The two most prominent Origami folders were Jo Nakashima and Tadashi Mori. Shout out to those two for sharing their expertise to the less inclined, I had learned much from both of them.

As a relatively beginner, I only looked on videos that usually did not last more than ten minutes. There was a tutorial about making an Origami dragon that piqued my interest, but the video last almost forty minutes. There was this one video that only lasted up to eight minutes, but it took me almost an hour to assemble. Needless to say, I forewent learning the dragon and opted to go for simpler designs.

As I mentioned earlier, there's a design that I took almost an hour to make, and that was the Magic Rose Cube. The magic rose cube tutorial video (which you can see here) is short, but you see in the video that you actually require three of each piece that he shows you how to make. Although it took me a while to finish, the end product was beautiful. 

Then I continued on to more designs, with a Peace Dove, a Neko Cat,  and a Zerg Hydralisk, which I thought was pretty cool. Considering that the Hydralisk was created from a Tsuru. Whoever created the design was a very creative individual.

Kotobukizuru

Origami has been a long tradition in many other countries, but as we know Japan is the most popular one. Origami stems from the two words "ori" which means folding and "kami" which means paper. And it dates long enough that no one actually knows when it really started.

As I mentioned earlier, I had only known how to make the Tsuru, or the crane. It is one of the most popular designs in Origami, so much so that there's a legend behind making the paper crane. It is said that if one successfully makes a thousand paper cranes, he is granted one wish by a crane, one of the mystical or holy creatures in Japan. And it is said that the crane can live for up to a thousand years. Or so it says.

Traditional Tsuru

There is a story in Japan of a girl named Sadako Sasaki (not related to the ghost in The Ring) who was very sick. She was dying, in fact. Stricken with leukemia, the girl had only one wish: to live. And so she started folding paper cranes in hopes of completing a thousand and being granted a wish. But, Sadako, weak from her disease, was unable to continue. She was only able to make 644 paper cranes before passing away. Friends and family continued on and buried the thousand paper cranes with her.

This story touched me in a way that I want to make a thousand paper cranes, in honor of Sadako. From then on, I started making more paper cranes and littered my room with them. I'm far from a thousand, but I'm gearing towards there.

Hopefully, I'll be able to get that wish.

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Paper Lily

This is our cry. This is our prayer. Peace on Earth.
 これはぼくらの叫びです　これは私たちの祈りです　世界に平和をきずくための


Sadako Sasaki, Rest in Peace.

Peacock

Peace Dove

Neko Cat

Zerg Hydralisk

Swan

The Dreamer

Inception had been my favorite movie since it was released. Being the first movie I've seen on the IMAX theater(that big ass screen), it certainly was memorable. The movie's plot, being about dreams and manipulating them, piqued my interest even more. It was also directed by one of the most critically-acclaimed directors out there, Christopher Nolan.

The movie, centric on dreams, was one of the more original movies I've seen, ever. I've seen it on IMAX, as well as in the normal theater, and 4 or 5 times again at home. Every after I watched it, I had always wanted to dream the way they did. Although such machine is unavailable (or that I know of), lucid dreaming is very much possible.

I've seen many an article about lucid reaming and it's a very difficult process. But really the main thing about it is you have to practice real hard on your memory. You have to keep a dream journal right next to your bed, so when you do wake up right after a dream, you immediately write everything you remember.

My friends are naturals at this. They are more adept at remembering the dream, close to every detail. Unlucky for me, I am not the same. Granted, there are certain dreams that I do remember. But I don't remember every  little thing in the dream, I remember only bits and pieces.

I had this friend who told me about his dream. The first thing he remembers about the dream was that he was at his high school, only every friend he ever had was there too. Then somehow the dream drifted off into a beach setting, and he was bringing a car, my car. And I remember him telling me that he was pulling it with a string through the sands, like a toddler pulling a toy car. Then at some point, he had realized that he was dreaming. A few moments after that, he woke up.

That's how lucid dreaming is, you become aware that you're actually in a dream. And that's what I want to accomplish. I've had this experience only once, and it was just like my friend's. A few moments after I noticed myself dreaming, I had woken up.

When and if you become more adept to lucid dreaming, you can begin to manipulate the things around you. As in The Architect in the movie. I only had this experience, but it felt weird. Whenever I wanted to control something, it resisted. It could be that, or that was just really the dream.

For the past week, I had started writing down my dreams. Only not really writing them, I would text them to myself and save it in a dreams folder. It started when I woke up in the middle of the night, and from that point on, I remember my dreams most of the whole week.

The texts I save sound really cryptic when I read them. I really don't know why I dream about it. That's one thing I love about dreaming, the randomness of it all. You could be anything or anyone, at anywhere or everywhere.

The first dream I had involved a mutual friend dying, my car being in an accident, a friend telling me I was like his ex, and something about facebook. I don't really remember why, but somehow my car was a Mazda. That's the only thing I remember clearly. I'm not even sure if it was my car that was in the accident.

Second day, I only remember a question. I'm not even sure if I was the one was asked the question or that if it was a girl I was interested in. She/I asked if I/she use her/my terms when I/she went on our own dates. And the reply was a quick no. The third day, I remember someone telling me, that she sings a better song on a piano.

The fourth day was especially nice dream, or so from what I remember. I was stranded in a room with a girl. We were in two different double deck beds, and the room was flooded. It looked like a classroom. In the flooded room, there were these notes floating around. They felt like messages in a bottle, without the bottle. The dream itself as I remember was nice, other than the fact I remember something about someone dying. And as I texted it to myself, I spelled it as Justin Thoureaux. I got curious if someone is named that, then turns out there is a Justin Theroux who played Leezar in Your Highness, a movie that I saw the day before.

The rest of the week was really nothing at all. I saw an old friend, a bitchy friend was being friendly. Things do really feel strange when we're in a dream, but you won't know that until you wake up.

I read an article once that when you dream at night, your brain is actually "organizing" your day. So there may be subtle signs in there about your day or whatever it is that's bothering you or making you happy. And when things get too emotional, you respond, like really crying.

So, what is it that my mind is telling me?

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Never recreate places from your memories, always imagine new places. Only use details. A street lamp or a phone booth. Never entire areas. Building a dream from your memory is the easiest way of losing your grasp on what's real and what is a dream.