So much to enjoy in the first episode of True Detective's second season. It's too early to tell whether it will live up to the series' Emmy-winning first season, but great performances all around, with Colin Farrell proving to be the right choice to play Detective Ray Velcoro, and not just because of his physical appearance. (Said my wife while eating soggy french fries, during one of his scenes: "Ang gwapo talaga n'ya!") Taylor Kitsch brings remarkable depth to the character of Officer Paul Woodrugh. Rachel McAdams is reliable as always, and personally, I loved the opening credits.
My first apartment was in Malate, and calling it “small” would be generous. I lived there with two girls and one guy, and to this day, I genuinely don’t know how we all fit. It felt like a magic trick. Or a health hazard. We were a musical mess. One roommate lived and breathed ’70s classics. Another was permanently blasting Korn and Slipknot. One survived solely on cheesy love songs. And me? I was floating somewhere between new wave and folk rock, pretending that made sense. Somehow, despite the noise and the chaos, we all lived together in this weird, mismatched harmony. No murders. No lawsuits. A win, honestly. My music taste now is nothing like it was in my twenties. Not even close. But I’ll always be grateful to Jacqueline for introducing me to this song in particular. It was playing when I woke up from a very memorable sleep in 2002. I was 21, half-awake, probably confused about life, and that song stuck. It still hasn’t let go.
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