Slumdog millionaire absolutely took my breath away. Straight away, whisk out with it. I couldn't be more in love with a story line. It should win the oscar, fuck Brad pitt's good looks and equally good acting talent. I'm sorry but it fails in comparison. It was the kind of movie that challenges you to get your fucking act together or die trying. You see the gut wrenchingly poor slums of India and you say what do I really have to complain about ever? It makes your brain flip flop and buzz trying to comprehend the gruesome living situations. All in all it without a doubt lives up to it's award season buzz. (And then some.)
It doesn't hurt that Dev Patel is ilegally handsome and Frieda Pinto is stunning.
I am sitting on my sister's bed as I customarily do whenever she sleeps out and I am watching the sex and the city DVD that I bought my mom for Christmas. I've seen almost all of these episodes but I'm watching one in particular that's entitled "Ex and the city". In the middle of the episode the girls are having a lunch and they are talking about whether or not girls should be friends with their ex's and then Miranda says this one quote that I loved when I first saw the episode a year ago and i'm just happy that i'm able to recall it. It will probably mean nothing to anyone but me and that's a-okay. It just fits. I can't exactly explain so don't make me.
Miranda: "Believe me, I would love to be one of those people who's all; we loved, thank you, you enriched my life, now go and prosper. But I'm much more; we didn't work out, you need to not exist."
Exactly, right on.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
"What a terrible mistake to let go of something wonderful for something real."
Who's body is this that I have acquired? I don't recognize these fingertips. I need to do anything somewhat recognizable so I can seperate soul and body. My greatest fear is succombing to the norm. What is expected of me and what is expected of this body are two entirely different things. What if I can't insert my limited knowledge where need be. I wonder what I should do in the meantime, the kill time, the joyride. Like clockwork my brain is in constant rotation, always clicking at the most unsanitary of times. I realize none of these adjectives will connect for you and that's a risk I am willing to take for the sake of saving my own sanity. I never claimed to be elquent with words, nor grammer. A balancing act is just enough.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Sole mate, hat mate, it fits.
Hat Trick
By: Jennifer Michael Hecht
A woman howling, her baby's bunk somehow afloat in the river, taking on water. Help, shrieks the mother. Shriek, helps the baby, and a good man jumps into the river; splash and paddle. Grabs the kid, hands the damp bundle over. Thank God, cries the mother. She cradles her daughter, looks up at the man, says, Excuse me, but she had a hat.The child grows up to be a hat-check girl, always trying to get back what she'd lost,always having to return it all by the end of thenight. She is often sorrowful and ashamedfor being sorrowful, surrounded by warm coats, a stool to rest on while others,elsewhere, spend all day bending. Wincinganyway, she sharp regrets her bland missteps, laments her ill use and fatigue. It is awful: her feet hot with it, her head metal-cold.You think it's enough to just keep getting old? Can't I also have my hat?Roots squeeze this information toward their leaves: You can not also have your hat.After mother and child left, the man, loitering the scene of his heroicshappened upon the little girl's small cap.Picked it up off the bank, startled by the tinyscale of its protection, took it home, kept it for years, then lost track of it.It's been long seasons since he'd jump in the sea like a fin in response to a splash.To be so little thanked, so asked for more, flattened in him what he hoped he had to give.The mother grows less certain by degreesthat all that she had long awaitedhad any sense outside the confinesof her blazing expectations.The girl, fidgeting hairclip in cloak room, her own self set by his one leap and her many lurid resignations, braces waves of distress and lets down her tresses. All three rail
their separate saga, he having labored and netted so little; the elder she having
wanted so much from those around her and found she was not so much let downas wrong in her detailed attentions; the girlwrestling a dreadful shadow: the factsthat throw us in the water in the first placeruin us for much saving. She is aggrievedof it, feels disgraced by the triumph of pain. I want to comfort them, myself, my keen regret,but am at best a lemon tree, vivid fruitabundant among bleak green leaves. I will wait for ice and sugar to be invented, bees in the daytime, bats when it's done. I will wait in the sun. I hope for relief like a lunatic, indulge, like a drunk, in my croon. It is my intention to offer lemonade while there is time and so much brutal sunshine. Meanwhile, I can't do much, but gather the hero and the mother beneath my bower.
As for the girl, she's not a hat-checker, anymore, there's no such thing these
days. After an eon of servitude: menstopped wearing hats, so she was freeto wander away from the 21 Cluband under my branches. Isn't shebeautiful? Didn't she have a hat? To know, and arrange, and recover even that. I am ridiculous, but it is what is wanted.
I think it's just lovely, don't you?!
By: Jennifer Michael Hecht
A woman howling, her baby's bunk somehow afloat in the river, taking on water. Help, shrieks the mother. Shriek, helps the baby, and a good man jumps into the river; splash and paddle. Grabs the kid, hands the damp bundle over. Thank God, cries the mother. She cradles her daughter, looks up at the man, says, Excuse me, but she had a hat.The child grows up to be a hat-check girl, always trying to get back what she'd lost,always having to return it all by the end of thenight. She is often sorrowful and ashamedfor being sorrowful, surrounded by warm coats, a stool to rest on while others,elsewhere, spend all day bending. Wincinganyway, she sharp regrets her bland missteps, laments her ill use and fatigue. It is awful: her feet hot with it, her head metal-cold.You think it's enough to just keep getting old? Can't I also have my hat?Roots squeeze this information toward their leaves: You can not also have your hat.After mother and child left, the man, loitering the scene of his heroicshappened upon the little girl's small cap.Picked it up off the bank, startled by the tinyscale of its protection, took it home, kept it for years, then lost track of it.It's been long seasons since he'd jump in the sea like a fin in response to a splash.To be so little thanked, so asked for more, flattened in him what he hoped he had to give.The mother grows less certain by degreesthat all that she had long awaitedhad any sense outside the confinesof her blazing expectations.The girl, fidgeting hairclip in cloak room, her own self set by his one leap and her many lurid resignations, braces waves of distress and lets down her tresses. All three rail
their separate saga, he having labored and netted so little; the elder she having
wanted so much from those around her and found she was not so much let downas wrong in her detailed attentions; the girlwrestling a dreadful shadow: the factsthat throw us in the water in the first placeruin us for much saving. She is aggrievedof it, feels disgraced by the triumph of pain. I want to comfort them, myself, my keen regret,but am at best a lemon tree, vivid fruitabundant among bleak green leaves. I will wait for ice and sugar to be invented, bees in the daytime, bats when it's done. I will wait in the sun. I hope for relief like a lunatic, indulge, like a drunk, in my croon. It is my intention to offer lemonade while there is time and so much brutal sunshine. Meanwhile, I can't do much, but gather the hero and the mother beneath my bower.
As for the girl, she's not a hat-checker, anymore, there's no such thing these
days. After an eon of servitude: menstopped wearing hats, so she was freeto wander away from the 21 Cluband under my branches. Isn't shebeautiful? Didn't she have a hat? To know, and arrange, and recover even that. I am ridiculous, but it is what is wanted.
I think it's just lovely, don't you?!
Monday, January 19, 2009
Matter over mind.
I feel like everyone is doing such a great job of living that i'd hate to intrude. Maybe I should just leave it to the professionals...
Saturday, January 17, 2009
It's as if my vices are calling out for me.
And I'm sitting here crying. And I never cry. But tonight has been a wakeup call. And I think I can allow myself one full night of crying. But just this once.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
"But, like ivy, we grow where there is room for us."
I'll write a much more detailed 2008 wrapup blog later because I have so much to say about the year that coudl've easily swallowed me whole in an instant. I also want to blog about my expectations for this wonderful new year and all of the massive changes that will soon be flowing from insane directions but since it's 12:45 on a school night I'm in the mood for something a bit more light hearted with a meaty undertone.
So instead I've opted to talk about my dream mate.
I saw the movie 'dedication' about 8 months ago and I always tell people about it. It's such an underrated movie because I'm pretty sure it went straight to dvd and it didn't get the credit it deserved. Billy Crudup delivers the most amazing performance. I'm pretty sure I melt everytime I watch him.
Maybe I am as fucking crazy as I've convinced myself that I am but this is hands down one of the greatest quotes I've heard in cinema. I want this man, the person who can came up with these thoughts, that person is who i'm going to be with, maybe not forever but for as long as allowed.
Henry: Okay, uh, before we can, uh... work effectively with one another, I think we should be comfortable. So, ten minutes, okay? Then - then work. Okay? Go. Okay, I'll start. Uh, I hate my mother. I hate my goddamn dead father more. Rudy was the only friend I ever had. I had a girlfriend once who I used to like to masturbate to more than have sex with. Carrots and snakes frighten me. Umm... I'm superstitious about the numbers...three, six, and seven.
Henry: I can only stir things counterclockwise, and I know that if I don't, something bad will happen. I take size eleven-and-a-half shoe. I don't have a favourite book. Umm... Oh... What's crucial? Oh, I don't drive or ride in cars. Statistically speaking, you have a 100% chance of being in an accident in your lifetime. They're death boxes. I give to Amnesty International on the off chance I'm ever imprisoned and tortured for my political beliefs. Paradoxically, I have no political beliefs. Umm... life is pain. Black kids are cuter than white ones. What's important? Uh... I didn't mean it when I compared you to our waitress. I was only trying to hurt you. I could've been meaner about your looks, and what I would've said would have made you cry. Umm... I have a towel I can't throw out 'cause it may have feelings. When I ejaculate, I go into deep depressions. Though by any standard you're a nice person, I deeply resent having to work with you. I love Japanese monster movies. Gamera, specifically.
So instead I've opted to talk about my dream mate.
I saw the movie 'dedication' about 8 months ago and I always tell people about it. It's such an underrated movie because I'm pretty sure it went straight to dvd and it didn't get the credit it deserved. Billy Crudup delivers the most amazing performance. I'm pretty sure I melt everytime I watch him.
Maybe I am as fucking crazy as I've convinced myself that I am but this is hands down one of the greatest quotes I've heard in cinema. I want this man, the person who can came up with these thoughts, that person is who i'm going to be with, maybe not forever but for as long as allowed.
Henry: Okay, uh, before we can, uh... work effectively with one another, I think we should be comfortable. So, ten minutes, okay? Then - then work. Okay? Go. Okay, I'll start. Uh, I hate my mother. I hate my goddamn dead father more. Rudy was the only friend I ever had. I had a girlfriend once who I used to like to masturbate to more than have sex with. Carrots and snakes frighten me. Umm... I'm superstitious about the numbers...three, six, and seven.
Henry: I can only stir things counterclockwise, and I know that if I don't, something bad will happen. I take size eleven-and-a-half shoe. I don't have a favourite book. Umm... Oh... What's crucial? Oh, I don't drive or ride in cars. Statistically speaking, you have a 100% chance of being in an accident in your lifetime. They're death boxes. I give to Amnesty International on the off chance I'm ever imprisoned and tortured for my political beliefs. Paradoxically, I have no political beliefs. Umm... life is pain. Black kids are cuter than white ones. What's important? Uh... I didn't mean it when I compared you to our waitress. I was only trying to hurt you. I could've been meaner about your looks, and what I would've said would have made you cry. Umm... I have a towel I can't throw out 'cause it may have feelings. When I ejaculate, I go into deep depressions. Though by any standard you're a nice person, I deeply resent having to work with you. I love Japanese monster movies. Gamera, specifically.
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