Jan 11


For months, I have been looking for a white slippers that I usually wear. In vain. Even mum said she couldn’t find them. In my rush to go out today, I saw a plastic bag under the shoe rack and found them in it. I quickly put them on and left. A few minutes later, mum called and asked if I took the slippers. She said to be careful as they have lost their traction. Slippery.

She must have slipped wearing them that day.

On the way, I found a kite stuck on a tree along the highway. I wonder whose mum left it there.

Jan 11


“I always say a film should have a personality. And like a person, if he or she is very popular, I would feel very suspicious. Maybe my good film is not your good film. It’s very subjective. But if I make a film that divides the audience, I feel like that’s a certain level of success. Film should divide people.” Apichatpong Weerasethakul

Jan 11



Jan 11

An Intimate Immensity

“Cut off my arm. I say, ‘Me and my arm.’ You cut off my other arm. I say, ‘Me and my two arms.’ You take out, take out my stomach, my kidneys, assuming that were possible. And I say, ‘Me and my intestines.’ And now, if you cut off my head. Would I say, ‘Me and my head’ or ‘Me and my body’? What right has my head to call itself me?” Polanski in Le Locataire.


Dec 10


– Alfian Saat in Optic Trilogy.

“I love you as certain dark things are loved,
secretly, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that doesn’t bloom and carries
hidden within itself the light of those flowers,
and thanks to your love, darkly in my body
lives the dense fragrance that rises from the earth.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where,
I love you simply, without problems or pride:
I love you in this way because I don’t know any other way of loving

but this, in which there is no I or you,
so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand,
so intimate that when I fall asleep it is your eyes that close.”

– Pablo Neruda in Sonnet XVII

Dec 10


“I am an insensate stone in the wilderness, whipped by fierce wind and torrential rain, so cold that no one dares touch me. But my love is solid and sharp, capable of piercing through any obstacle. Even if I were crushed into powder, I would still use my ashes to embrace you.”
– Liu Xiaobo, I Have No Enemies