Sorry, irresistible

It's been five minutes since I clicked on "create post" and, five minutes later, I can't get myself to write anything. That's the surprising part, actually, not because I'm expecting myself to be able to write anything with the slightest of coercions, but because I actually have a trigger.

During film writing class, Sir Doy taught us about triggers. It was actually the very first thing he told us about that term - that we can't start anything without getting inspired by something. Most of the term would circulate around these triggers - a few lines off Nothing In My Way, a kid in the jeepney, a trip to the church, a classmate you're too fond of. Triggers are actually an easy escape - you can just look around you, get struck by something, and work around it. Probably the work-around-it part is the harder part, especially if you're a bit against clich├ęs in your dialogue.

The trigger, however, is a classic lesson in writing, and one that never usually gets taught in class. The closest you'd hear to that concept is "write about something that you see," or "write about something that inspired you," and you'd then start writing on those pieces of intermediate pad paper, all those incoherent essays that you'd laugh at five years after.

I do have a trigger, but somehow I can't get around to starting. Five months is a pretty long time to get something wrapped around your typing fingers, and yet here I am, babbling about writing when all I'm supposed to say is this: isn't she irresistible?

Another classic lesson is one we've always heard in science class. Magnetism, in a nutshell, works around two poles, the positive and the negative, which has a natural attraction for each other. Reading the Wikipedia entry about it might simply make you cringe, and so do all the diagrams that demonstrate how two magnets stick together, with all those arrows, but you know one thing: if they have to stick, they will stick. Otherwise, we'd be flying beings, or to be more precise, floaters.

But magnetism is a science, and like most other sciences, it's been figured out by intelligent people. The arrows in those diagrams are there for a reason. Without it, magnetism wouldn't be as easy as "you stick to the ground or else." In life, however, there's no use to pointing out why things happen. In the beginning, you'd tell yourself you find her pretty. The next day, you start knowing a bit more about her, and in the process, perceptions deepen - the arrows start twisting and branching out, until all you see is a convoluted black mess. Nothing is understood.

So what is the point of writing an entry about a concept that, in the end, would not bring about "new knowledge," as Miss Bacalla talks about in investigative journalism class? If I can't figure out why I (sort of) like her in the first place, then how will I grasp the concept that I'm trying to write about? The thing is, since it's life we're talking about, there really is no way around it, unlike corruption in government, for example, for which there are laws and safeguards. On the other side of the fence, everybody is fickle-minded: one moment it's over, and the next it's worse than ever.

When voyagers are faced with thick forests, they either cut through it to make a path and get to the other side, or find a shortcut. Those who go through the woods have to contend with foreign flora and fauna, and maybe get sick with some odd disease or two. But people didn't know better back then - they had no choice but to go through, or turn back. Compasses made things much better - yes, it's a magnet, too! - and eventually we found our way around. The Suez Canal was built so people wouldn't have to travel around Africa to get to India, and a similar situation's been rectified by the Panama Canal.

As for the convoluted black mess we've made with the arrows in the diagram earlier, you might want to create a new arrow from far back, and bypass the mess entirely. You get to where you want to go to.

There are two funny things with that idea, though. First, you miss the point, which is pointing out what make one person so irresistible. Second, you get there, and you're further entrenched. Such is the case with my particular attachment, to put it safely - for a few weeks I thought it was over, and lo and behold, it isn't. And yes, Virginia, I still don't have an idea as to why it happened, as to what exactly made it happen. All I know is, it has, and the more you know, the more it gets messier, the more it gets magnetic, and the more I struggle to find that certain trigger that will, hopefully, make sense of the phenomena that is synthetic infatuation.

Back in first year, Kizia threw me the "it's like you're going to marry her" line. Lately it's been ringing in my head again, even if it actually doesn't fit. (And it also helps that Kelly told me that too, sensing I'm losing grip of myself again.) So I'll have to push myself: it's as if I'm marrying her, and I'm actually not. Right?

Paragraphs later, I haven't really said what I was supposed to say, and I feel worse for myself. Sorry, irresistible.

And your responses...

Post a Comment