The Rurouni Kenshin OAVs make me emotional. The first OAV, Trust and Betrayal, always reduces me to blubber. It tells the beautifully tragic story of how Kenshin acquires his cross-shaped scar. The second one, Reflection, is even more heart-wrenching. It takes place fifteen years after the Enishi arc. I get depressed every time I watch it. For a while after seeing it, I have trouble breathing because of the pain in my chest.

The first time I saw Reflection, I remember watching in disbelief as some illness resembling tuberculosis ravages Kenshin's body. When he finally succumbs to it in the end, I recall feeling bewildered and slightly indignant. How could the greatest swordsman in Japan die of a disease? I was an ardent follower of the series, and I could not, for the life of me, accept Kenshin dying.

Thinking about it now, I admit that Reflection is a truthful ending. It shows us what happens after the heroes walk off into the sunset. We see that Kenshin's moments of happiness are brief. His inner turmoil continues to resurface even after he has married Kaoru. He is restless and eventually leaves home to continue seeking atonement for the grisly acts he committed as Battousai. In his travels, he realizes that he cannot heal the sadness of those left behind. And in that, he despairs. Redemption is a hard and painful path.

In the final act, Sanosuke finds Kenshin in China. Kenshin is frail and dying. In Japan, Kaoru is also bed-ridden, afflicted with the same mysterious disease. As Sano's unwitting counterpart, Megumi is the one caring for her. In yet another part of Japan, Yahiko has gone to collect Kenji who has ran away from home to study Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu. That kid has some serious daddy issues. He begins to resolve them when he inherits the sakabatou and with it, understanding.

Then one quiet afternoon, Kaoru feels a change in the wind. Kenshin has found his way back to her. They fall happily into each other's arms, unmindful of the weakened state of their bodies. But the reunion is bittersweet. As the two lay peacefully under a sakura tree, Kenshin dies. As Kaoru strokes his face, she discovers that the cross-shaped scar has finally disappeared.

I saw the OAV again this afternoon and that pain in my chest is back.

Just a few updates

1. I'm still hanging on to my mindless job, trying depserately to earn. I spent my last big pay on a shitload of books and am still recovering.

2. Just been to a Deviantart poet's page and was scared shitless by what I read there. Share in my awakening. Read this poem.

3. "Shitload" and "shitless." How charming. "Shit" as an adjective and a noun.

4. Anyone who's got Discovery Travel and Living should tune in on Mondays to Fridays at 5pm to watch Miami Ink. New season starts tomorrow at 11pm. What I wouldn't give to make art like that.

5. Pacific Life Open in Indian Wells coming this March. Yey, tennis for me! Big hitch: got work in the morning. Nostalgia: I was going through a rough time last year, and I caught the Indian Wells tourney on Supersport. Roger was playing. Salvation.

6. Raymond Feist has found his way back into my heart. Thanks Lem.

7. I'm having trouble finding a case for my prehistoric iPod. Don't get me wrong, though. I love my iPod. I love that it's first gen and that it looks different from all the other players everyone else around here is toting around. You don't get click wheels like that anymore. Problem is, it's a bitch finding a good case.

8. I'd like my ashes to be sprinkled in the hallowed shelves of Fully Booked Rockwell.

9. People born in the Year of the Ox, heads up. We're going to have an unhealthy year. Literally.

10. Will try to write. Promise.

I was
Skimming the cool, lucid
Liquid of dreams
When someone from the waking world
Called my name
What a command it was
That I had to heed it

Now I know what it feels like
For a plant, whose roots
Have barely spread over
The epdiermis of the Earth
To get yanked out
And forced to see the world
For what it really is

I walked home today to the sound of Anthony Kiedis’s voice blasting in my ears. He sang: “Sometimes I feel like I don’t have a partner/ Sometimes I feel like my only friend is the city I live in…” And that’s exactly how I was feeling, blissfully alone on a December afternoon in Baguio. So with the relaxed saunter of a girl who enjoyed going home early and the guitar riffs of the lovely John Frusciante teasing my ear drums, I put more and more space between me and my place of obligation (that is, work).

As I was crossing the road in front of PAG-ASA, a car going in the opposite direction slowed down and an unkempt man in the front passenger seat said something to me. For someone who has had her fair share of taunts and hoots from losers with nothing better to do, I immediately placed this man as one of their kind. In the exaggerated manner of one trying to be sarcastic, I pointed to my ear and made like I couldn’t hear what he was saying. It wasn’t until I got to the sidewalk on the other end that I realized he might have been asking for directions. Dangit, my headphones got me in trouble. Zenning out was working too well.

In Session Road, I passed the glass panels of PLDT and couldn’t resist turning to look at myself in the reflective glass. When I turned to check my fine self (haha, sure.) out, I found my reflection blocked by a tall man whose walk was impeccably timed with mine. I tried leaning back but his bulk would not permit it. Then I tried standing on tiptoes and all I could see was the top of my head and that’s no fun. Get out of my way, you idiot, so I can see myself. He didn’t sense my frustration and continued to bar my sight. By the time he turned to cross, we were already passing the next building, which had concrete for walls. I hate being short.

I crossed the road in front of Pizza Volante and saw a familiar Starex van coming up the road. It was my Tito’s car, so I tried to smile at the driver through the tinted window. I was squinting to see who was driving and the silhouette wasn’t one that I recognized. I kept the huge grin on my face and waved anyway. Then I got to the opposite sidewalk and realized that a couple of months ago, my Tito sold his van.

I love walking home.

I left school early today and decided to blow some of my pay on goodies for the house. I picked up some things at SM supermarket and thought I'd treat myself to a cab ride home. I got in line and was waiting peacefully for a taxi when some obnoxious man cut in front and was reaching for the next cab's door handle. His daughter stopped him and pointed out that there was a line. He muttered something about the injustice of lines and glared at the lengthening row of people.

I was third in line and would rather have my hands smelling like fish for five days than have that asshole get a ride before me. Imagine my trepidation when a family of five stepped shamelessly in front of the lady before me. There's some advantage to having a big family, because you can assert your numbers. "May pila po," the bag boy on duty informed them meekly. They turned and realized that there was indeed a group of people glaring at them from behind. They moved away, cowed by our dagger stares. There happened to be more of us.

Then, a cab drove up with someone in it. The obnoxious father from before stepped up to the front door, hoping to get in before anyone else did. Again, the bag boy fulfilled his duty as line protector: "May pila po." I put it in my own voice and yelled "May pila o!" Then the man, tired of being made to wait in line, spat back: "Kanina ka pa 'pila' ng 'pila' diyan e yung mga di nakapila kanina, pinasakay mo. Pano naman naging pila yan?" He avoided looking at the rest of us, though. His irritation he merely directed at the poor defenseless bag boy. So I said, "So parang sisingit na rin po kayo?" Pretending not to hear me, he continued to accost the hapless bag boy: "Pila sabi mo, e pinapasakay mo naman yung mga hindi nakapila!" The bag boy decided to play deaf, too, so he left the man sputtering the corner until his embarrassed daughters ushered him to the back of the line.

The bag boy had  decided to get the lady in front of me a cab, leaving me alone to face the mother of the second family, who had taken up the obnoxious man's cries of "No line! No line!" She said: "Ngayon, sasabihin niyong may pila..." Then I think she caught the looks on our faces (By "our," I mean we people waiting in line) and shut up. That wasn't the last of her, though, because she tried to steal my cab. The bag boy and his partner weren't there, so I had to defend my own cab rights. She was NOT getting this cab. I tightened my grip on my bags and stepped forward. In one swift motion, I was seated comfortably in the back seat and was telling the driver to take the Teacher's Camp road to Aurora Hill. Eat my dust, lady!