Author: dxminiq

Childhood Ruined : Star Wars Ep. 8 the Last Jedi

I’m trying to shy away from laziness in order to cohesively get my points across. I’ve waited months to do a piece on the Last Jedi and weighed the consequences of my choices by listing why I like the concept of the movie but will move on to stating why I’m confused by its execution. I want to begin with why (in theory) I like the concept of what this new series is trying to achieve. How the Last Jedi assumes that the perception of the first six movies revolved around the philosophy of the duality of things. Because, the truth was, nothing was achieved in dismantling the republic and that the rebellion was this oblique force that had finally dwindled, but somehow persisted with the calloused use of the word, “hope”. The entire plot of the first six Star Wars movies revolved around the idea of possessing hope. The saying being justified by, “May the Force be with you –” strengthening the image of tenacity in despairing situations. Perhaps, the moral placed in the …

Life, Currently —

Sweat drips from my back as I watch the sun sink back into the murky depths of the ocean. While I sit here, contemplating about what to write for my ‘serious’ portfolio — I think about a friend and his struggles with depression — and sip at my venti iced white tea and take a few seconds to finish my joint. “Fucking ice,” I mumbled, scrolling through all the articles telling me that world is in chaos. I felt my heart sink into a pit, shrugging off the madness by biting the skin off my cuticles. In the news: Kanye West released “Ye” – his short, 7 song collection about his struggles with being bipolar and dealing with more personal issues. This was a story about survival and coping with a mental disorder. In other news: Anthony Bourdain committed suicide in his hotel room in France. The man was an extraordinary writer, host, and personal tour guide to the generic couch-locked food enthusiast. I never knew him, but it felt like I did. He was …

You, Me and a Lie

I possess no insightful experiences about fashion, travel, or life since I don’t live in Manila anymore. I sense that when someone “writerly” goes out of that country, it’s required to post a blog entry about some image filled, hyperbolic (yet restrained) trip to a bodega — or some “cool” Western bullshit they’re experiencing for the first time… like they’re some guru or something. Past Summer’s incorrigible holler, I have nothing to say except for a few words, “I’m finally broken and San Francisco can eat my ass.” while I symbolically give it the finger as a gesture of my affection. “Take your stupid BMWs and learn how to fucking drive, dip-shits!” And moon the entire Tenderloin without being raped, mugged, or stuck in traffic. Here’s when I tell the world that I moved to Sacramento. That I am drowning in debt. That I’m unemployed and suffering through a neurotic mess of gluten intolerance and emotional abuse – If I were the more “writerly” ones, I would have taken a selfie at City Lights while …