21apr2022_bibliomania.txt
Heat-aggravated bibliomania
The word I was looking for yesterday was ‘counterfactual.’ It was already at the tip of my tongue, but I wasn’t one hundred percent certain. It means speculating on historical events, thinking about what if this possibility happened instead of the actual thing. It’s closer to fiction (is actually fiction) than actual history, and is pretty useful in intellectual exercises. So long as it is not claimed to be truth or anywhere near it, everything’s good. Certainly makes discussions interesting if the proper topic is found. Like, what if Imelda died when she was stabbed by that guy while she was doing some tour or something? I’d have to look at this event again, learn more about the details – when and where did this happen, who was that guy who stabbed her, what happened to that guy, what was the Dictator’s reaction to all these … If I recall correctly, the stabber wasn’t killed, but was sent to a mental institution. Which institution, exactly? And what happened to him there? Does this place still exist? Do people have memories about this guy who attempted to murder the First Lady at the time?
I am waiting excitedly for the books to arrive. I think in the haze of my bibliomania, I bought four books. Given the choice between buying something to eat or buying some interesting books, I’d lean more towards the latter. I remember the first time I stepped into the stacks section of the Main Library in UPD, it was like a whole new universe opened. I spent most of my free time in college in the libraries there. I have never encountered so many books in one place before. The plan is still on, to build my own personal library. Who cares who inherits it when I die. Most possibly it will be the college which is near our house and actually have some kind of connections with already. The image of just living alone deep in some mountain somewhere, in a hut, with no people around, still is very appealing to me. Though I imagine this place would not be too kind to the preservation of books. In real life I was kind of disappointed how despoiled my hometown has become, so that this dream will probably just remain a dream. There are too many people now, too many roadside stores, vehicles, ‘developments.’ Pisses me off. I remember a time when there were high grasses on both sides of the road, so very few people, and the early mornings are foggy and cold. Now, the fog line has risen, is only regularly experienced a few kilometers more upwards the mountain range. At least the peak or the places near there, is still very cold. I wonder how the comrades are doing there these days. There’s this Korean-built institution there and I kind of want to visit it one of these days. Maybe soon.
Right here, right now, it is very hot. The afternoons are particularly brutal, Thought this is not to say I don’t have experience with this kind of climate. When we first moved, it was to a place with low elevation, mostly ricefields, lots of memories of flooding. The summers there were about as hot as where I am now, maybe even hotter. I barely get to sleep these days. And whatever sleep I get is of terrible quality. Early in the morning I dreamed that a woman with long black hair, wearing a white smock was crawling on the ceiling above my bed. Then she fell, and turned face down into me as she fell. I remember thinking, maybe I should be scared, but I was just disappointed how cliche this scene was. I’ve seen this exact scenario plenty of times in movies and other horror media I’ve been consuming the past several years. Though it wasn’t that scary, it was enough to wake me up to half maybe three-fourths consciousness, and so I got up and proceeded with my day. It was awful. It felt like functioning with only half a brain. I felt tired and sluggish, and the heat just added to the misery. Can’t sleep, can’t rest. Though later in the afternoon, the weather became somewhat tolerable, and was able to sleep for about a couple of hours. I woke up around seven, seven thirty.
Just focus on the little things – it’s when you start thinking generally, and of the future that your misanthropy shows itself. Right now focus on the books that you’ll be reading soon. It would be so awesome when they’re finally here. I see people complaining all the time how they think it’s such a waste having, buying a book, but not having the energy or time or whatever to read it. I am honestly baffled by this. When you love books, you don’t even mind not reading them. I have this ‘treasure’ of a book, Roberto Bolanyo’s ‘2666’ which I bought in a secondhand bookshop in a mall for about 300 or 400 PHP more than a decade ago. I only managed to read the first couple of chapters of this book, the one where there are all these literary scholars focusing on this writer named Archimboldi. I liked those parts, it was bookish. I like books that talk about books or literary persons. So, the point is, I still treasure that book even if I haven’t read it. I am here just stealing Umberto Eco’s idea. Just having them around as an object, a totem, a fetish is enough. The way I see it, a good book, a wonderful one has magical properties that imbues anyone near it with knowledge and maybe even wisdom, if only for a bit of time. It is only necessary to touch or smell or even read the title of these works to be able to access these properties. Of course to really get to have the one hundred percent effect of a book, you have to read it, and just to be certain, re-read it.
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