Once, I used to be in love with the concept of dreaming. Of being in an illusion, something that you could bend at your own whim; for others, something that you had to constantly be subjected to. Perhaps a bystander in the midst of all the action, or the main protagonist in the course of the crumbling, rushing figments of one’s mind. In a false reality, anything could happen; and sometimes — the magnificent part of it all is that we all had our chance in playing God, be it by making something impossible happen or making someone appear, through the intense vividness of such things we are led to believing that we have molded our own masterpieces, our own story and world. Who wouldn’t want to live in an escape forever; in a place wherein anything could happen?
It only occurred to me now how a twenty minute interview was the deciding factor to my future. It only occurred to me now how this was the difference between going to, say, the University of the Philippines to Yale University. It only occurred to me now how much I underestimate myself; from the tests I take in school — going into the day not even expecting to get into the shortlist, yet finding myself in a seat that determined the rest of my life.
“Are you going to destroy the whole world?”
Two terrorists of genius intellect begun a reign of terror in Japan, citing their name as Sphinx and leaving the word von as marks of their footsteps in destruction; an array of beautiful animation, a breathtaking, close to perfect if not perfect original soundtrack and a setting so realistic and familiar with characters that one could connect and relate to, characters that you could see a piece of your soul in. No anime has left me as breathless as Zankyou no Terror did, from the soundtrack kept on replay with mesmerizing tracks, to the storyline that keeps you utterly captivated. Perhaps I give too much praise — but it’s also important to note that Zankyou no Terror has numerous flaws, which I feel are redeemed by the ending, the impact of the story; and how incredibly forgivable it is, because really, it’s one of those rare works I find in which all its mistakes are okay. Perhaps it isn’t perfect, perhaps it’s just another could have been, but it’s still beautiful, emotional, and in its own way, it’s that sort of flawed beauty.