Is it cold in here?|
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|Friday, January 13th, 2006|
I've decided to merge my LJs as swapping between the two is becoming a serious pain in the behind. It might take a bit of work, but as of now, thule_ and rasmus_a are both dead journals and this will be taking over for both of them.
|Friday, January 6th, 2006|
|Definitions of the word "uke"
You know yaoi? If not, you probably don't want to read on.
I searched for some japanese bondage on wikipedia (your number one enabeler of kinks of every kind) and from there went over to the word "uke", simply because it's used so much without me ever having a semi-oficial definition of it.
I now am in seriously DEEP shit. Uke is not only the bottom part of a gay couple, or the recieving part of bondage/S&M, it's also a term used for the attacking part in Aikido. You know, the sport I'm starting on once I get home...
I can picture it vividly. My teacher telling me to go against some "uke", and me sniggering so hard that I get my ass kicked and known as "that weird kid". Or even worse, if they understand why
I'm sniggering... Current Mood: cold
|Wednesday, January 4th, 2006|
|Just seen Narnia (for the second time in two days)
I have just seen Narnia. I think I'm in love with a faun. He's darn sweet, looks pretty when in pain (kinky? who?) and is just the cutest thing ever when carrying a crown. *g*
The horse Philip and the phoenix are other great characters. And I'm completely taken with the brilliant griffins. And the animations. I don't know how they did it, but I was completely trapped the moment the blietzkrieg photos started and wasn't able to move before the black screen came after Lucy and the professor's little chat in the end.
On that accord, why can't people sit the fuck down when the film is STILL GOING. Yes, there has been some end titles, but the fact that the characters are on the screen and talking should give you a hint that it's. not. over. yet. GOD how stupid some people are!
The horseman (yes, I have forgotten what it is in English. Sue me it's half past one in the morning) is really cool as well. I'm just blown away with how real these characters were made. Especially the vampirebat that looked like Marilyn Manson (come an, you all remember him... hissing at Aslan in the "party" scene).
I've come to conclusions that Edmund is my favourite character, though. He's just too much like myself to not like him.
Best comment in the movie: "Well, he's not king yet!" Current Mood: tired
|Sunday, January 1st, 2006|
MY doll is here. Happy.
I don't like new years eve. I have a head ache. Pain, and not in a good way.
It's 1 hour and 50 minutes into the new year and nothing feels changed. Typical.
Merry Christmas, everybody.
|Sunday, December 25th, 2005|
Merry fucking Christmas to me.
Let's make a list:
* All shops closed until tuesday - nothing to do
* Sick, can't get out of the house even if I wanted to
* Post office closed = I don't get the one gift I really lust for before tuesday, at the soonest
* All places that sells wine closed = me no wine
* Star Wars canceled because of sickness in the family of my friend = nothing to do the 27th
* A whole fucking family that want's to know what I'm doing, be with me and all the other social crap that I'm really not up to (oh, lonelyness, how I miss you)
* Me sounding like a whining bitch on LJ because I'm too tired to pester my RL friends
* Got nice gifts (YAY! Koss headset! + beautiful knitted sweater)
* Have the last episode of Bleach, and have yet to watch it
* Am slowly, but surely getting better from my cold
* Might be less than a week before my gift arrives
* No more money problems
* Dumped by boyfriend
|Friday, December 16th, 2005|
Look what I have learned today. That is, I'm not perfect yet, but I know some... I hate to use this word... 1337 skillz. *shygrin*
I'm stil waiting for my doll. He's got his own journal, christmas presents and clothes ready for him when he comes. Until then, his journal is used for the whining nobody wants to read, and his clothes are grinned over by me (his tiny, tiny pants has a tiny tiny zipper that unzips!). I just know the first thing he's going to do is to freak out and yell at me... (yes, I'm like this with all my "pets" (read: stuffed animals) and dolls. Except barbies, who I have no problems with decapitating and dyeing black.
Got to go. Watching Bleached and our red-headed friend is getting beaten the tar out of (again) and then suddenly proves that he has turned stronger (again) which really surprises his enemy, although it has to be the sixteenth time during the last five episodes.
He's got a knick of getting his head hurt, though. And always over his right eye. Odd.
Ooh! Before I forget. I bought a christmas presant today. I was at Outland, and they had small keyring chibi nauruto figurines. My friend is geting a vampire novel and a chibi Gaara for christmas! :D
|Thursday, December 15th, 2005|
|Can't sleep. Clowns will eat me.
Not really. I smoked today.
People who know me, know that I can't smoke, and should never be let close to a cigarette. People who really know me, know that I don't smoke because I hate the smell (true) and am severely allergic to smoking (also true). Still, I have started, gently and gingerly, to smoke.
I blame my examns. I'm stressed out, fucked up, alone and frustrated. My mind don't work, all the work I'm doing is too little to late when I have wasted a whole fucking semester on being sick and trying to fight that instead of the rigid school. So I'm stressed out, on the verge of crying for the third time this day (I haven't been such a crybaby since elementary school, and then I got my ass kicked for it. I don't like to cry) and finding the Lucky Strike pack I bought in desperation one day.
So I smoke half a smoke. The time was 13.00. It's now 03.00 am the next night/day and I can't sleep. I think that everyone who actually manages to get a buzz from half a cigarette should be locked inside a glass cage and experimented on. Don't even get me started on what cola or sugar does to me (let's just say that Swedish candy + me = WEEEEE! + a lot strange conversations about gummy bears and lemmings).
I have now cleaned my room. Visited the forums I usually goes to. Read all the posts without commenting on a single one of them (with the exception of the controversial forum where I comment constantly) and packed my bag to go home for christmas. I have $3 left on my account. I'm eating baked beans tomorrow. Maybe as breakfast. I deserve it for not getting a panic attack todat *pats her own back* It was fucking close (hence the smoking) but the second time I have averted it.
Fun fact: every time I feel insecure, I buy things. It can be films, clothes, craftstuffs or marbles, but I'll buy them just to feel safe. Sometimes, I get the idea that if I just find this
item or that
item, my life will be ok again. As long as I don't have the item or know where to find it, I feel stressed out, like something important is missing, when the item can be something as stupid as an anarchy pendant or a hoodie.
Sometimes I find the item I'm looking for, sometimes I don't. My life don't change based on either events.
Rational people would have given up the thought a long time ago.
At least I don't have an item on my mind right now. Although I'm still angry I didn't find the black glass heart pendant when I "needed" it.
|Tuesday, December 13th, 2005|
|Things are looking up...
...for the journal, at least. I am completely unable of reading for the examn tomorrow, but at least I managed to contact the doctor today. ( cut for uninteresting medical complaintsCollapse )
But enough wining for now. My christmas gift to myself have shipped from Korea, I'm four days away from being done with my examns for this year, and next year, I'm either going to do better or drop out. No need to worry about that before March anyway.
This saturday, I'm starting my job at the book store, finally earning some money to get the last presents with. It's going to be great. With the experience I have from telling drunk, grumpy Norwegians that they are not allowed to drink more, a pack of Christmas shoppers should be easy. (I know I'm fooling myself, but I want to keep that illusion at least until Saturday).
I haven't written in my stories for a long time, though. I know what happens next, and I know what of the previous story that I need to re-write, but like my home work, it seems like my brain is malfunctioning on that area of my life as well.
I want beer! I want wine and I want friends to drink with. I don't want to think about the biggest asshole in the world sending me a message to let me know that he's been convicted to a mental institution. I hate him, and I don't want the responsible he then gave me to tell my friend, who is also the asshole's friend.
Sometimes, I wish I could stop caring about people. As well as have people to complain about these things to, not a measly LJ.
I suck. Current Mood: tired
|Sunday, December 11th, 2005|
|I'm a writer...
...can't you tell? Just got back here to find that I haven't written shit (that I haven't deleted) since September. That's scary.
I can blame November on NaNoWriMo
but how about October and December? I suck, but I prefer writing what I wish to say in communities. My daily life is jack interesting anyway.
Example: Last night was spent making sure about a hundred of my coworkers got as drunk as possible in six hours. It was hilarious, I left the bar to dance with a (female *wink wink nudge nudge*) friend of mine when I got tired of being soaked in beer, I swapped a beer for a massage (again with a female friend of mine) and am one of the few people who can honestly say that they have bathed in beer (so much for bringing ten or so full-to-half-full glasses back to the bar to clean them...).
The money I earned, I managed to lose outside the local super marked. They are found, and currently hung up to dry (it rained today, BTW).
Does this interest anyone? *looks around*
Didn't think so.
This is a post to tell whomever might be interested that I'm still alive.
|Monday, September 26th, 2005|
|Harry Potter rant, about a year late
I read some of the rants over at fanficrants
today, and it reminded me just how much I hated the fourth and fifth books in the HP series... Actually, rewrite that to book 1-6.
Warning: this is a very long rant. And I don't like HP all that much. You have been warned.
Goth Harry/Emo Harry angsting all over the place. "Woe me, I have lost my parents, I'm famous and I have to visit my uncle and aunt for one month a year and they hate me."
Yeah. Get a grip, emo kid. Try looking around at what you do have, try COPING with whatever pains you have (you are *gasp* not the only one in this world with problems) and stop being a bitch over these things. It doesn't suit you. It's not that it's not 'heroic', I actually like it when the protagonist don't behave like superman, it's that he's behaving like a wittle brat. Don't bitch and snap at your friends every time they try to help you, mkay?
Problem two: this is really, really not well written. "Woe me, woe me" NEEDS to be well written to not be Xhundred pages of whining. First, in book one, we are hit over the head with dead parents, evil aunt and uncle and the gold-hearted little boy who lived with them and never questioned the good in humans.
Point one: if he don't see anything wrong with humans after that (or manages to separate "evil muggles" from "good non-muggles" when it was a wizard who murdered his parents and tried to get him too) he's stupid. It's ok to be stupid when you are eleven, but the kid is closing in on seventeen and STILL hasn't learned. It's mind boggling how stupid that is.
Then you have the traumatized kid going to school and suddenly all is good. Besides the pure magical flashbacks of his parent's death, he doesn't think once about the people he have lived with his whole life. He doesn't have any unexplainable feeling of longing for a spot in the garden in his old home, his aunt's mood swings from "evil rampant bitch" to "psyco rampant bitch" or anything many people get, even to places they hate.
And ofcause neither he nor Neville, who has an equally fucked-up, if not worse than the hero-boy, life needs any sort of help from anybody.
Next, they allow kids to almost kill each other in the school. I don't know about your school, but mine had pretty strict rules about running with lethal weapons after someone with the intent to kill them or severly maim them. Maybe that was special for my muggle school, though.
I just can't see how the teachers aren't stricter with their students. How they NEVER teach them responsibility or demand that they earn the right to have a wand outside of school hours. Honestly! If you so much as use magic outside of school, you are kicked out, but if you *grabs something out of thin air* maim your nemesis with a possibly lethal spell (anyone finished book six yet?) you get a slap on the hand and "please don't do that again".
Yeah. I know where I would be if I did that. It starts with a 'j' and ends with 'ail' and would make it possible to make a lot of HP h/c slash...
I don't ask for realism in fantasy. I just ask for a bit of logic every six hundred or so pages. It should be possible. Just too bad JK Rowling hasn't understood that yet...
|Thursday, September 22nd, 2005|
|Things I did today:
* Wished I had the guts to sing the lyrics to "Gay Bar" while pointing at an old, sour lady
* Wished I was dead
* Listened to the best music in the world and wanted to dance down the main streets
* Almost got hit by a car
* Wished the driver didn't had as good breaks as he had
* Thought about buying a doll for $ 344
* Dreamed about my boyfriend in another town
* Wished I was someone else
* Read the secrets at PostSecret
and felt just a little bit less alone in the world
* Went to see a band only because I like the song they have stolen their name from
* Wished I was the only person on this planet, or at least was detached enough to not be scared of others
* Sewed clothes to the Nauruto-doll I'm making for a friend
* Wished I wasn't without friends living close to me
* Wondered how much a human body thrown from the third floor in an mall would damage the glass tables with beautifully arranged flowers in the basement flower shop, and at the same time wondered if it would make a beautifully macabre picture or if it would be too bloody.
Conclution: I'm so fucked up I should start wearing black.
|Sunday, September 4th, 2005|
|Why doesn't the guy who draw the cover art READ THE BOOK!?!
Science Fiction & Fantasy RT
Category 46, Topic 14
Message 457 Thu Dec 19, 1996
M.FLYNN1 [Himself] at 21:00 EST
There's a bimbo on the cover of my book.
There's a bimbo on the cover of my book.
She is dumb and she is sexy.
She is nowhere in the text. She
Is a bimbo on the cover of my book.
There's white male on the cover of my book.
There's a white male on the cover of my book.
Though the hero_ine_ is black,
With Art that cuts no slack,
So there's a white male on the cover of my book.
There's a monster on the cover of my book.
There's a monster on the cover of my book.
He is mean and he is hairy,
Though the stories aren't that scary,
There's a monster on the cover of my book.
There are death rays on the cover of my book.
There are death rays on the cover of my book.
It's a philosophical story
But the cover must be gory,
So there's death rays on the cover of my book.
There's a spaceship on the cover of my book.
There's a spaceship on the cover of my book.
The connections rather iffy;
But if the story's sci-fi [skiffy]
There'll be space ships on the cover of my book.
I have learned that sundry filkers have been singing this song without
attribution. It appeared in ANALOG and is copyrighted. Filkers have
added at least one more verse to placate the elves and fairies
There's a dragon on the cover of my book.
There's a dragon on the cover of my book.
He is green and he is scaly.
He is nowhere in the tale. He
Is a dragon on the cover of my book.
The tune to which all this is sung, I leave as an exercise for the reader.
|Thursday, September 1st, 2005|
I wish I could rule the world for one day. Imagine the headlines...
"Peace price winner killed nun with milkshake machine"
"Backstreet boys apoligizes for career "We will never do it again," Nick promises."
"World watches in awe as good artists visit small, unknown countries for once."
|Sunday, August 28th, 2005|
Looking at the quiz I took yesterday and at the same surfing PostSecret
can do things to you. The world is a bit too noisy to think right now. There are televisions, the humming of the computer, the girl in the room over me is walking around like she can't get rest and somebody is taking a shower. I can hear the water through the pipes, and even that sound annoys me. I'm too sensitive.
My friends are at a party right now, for working through the festival. I want to go, but I know I will feel paranoid and claustrophobic, so I stay at home, writing, instead. Maybe I one day will be able to convince myself that I'm normal and there is nothing to be afraid of, but this is not that day.
I was at church today. First time I recieved communion with bisquits and white wine. I spent the rest of the service trying to find out wich wine I had drunk. It tasted a bit like vina sol, only more bitter. Most likely, it's some wine I have never tasted before. At least not with a sugary bisquit-part and the salt from my fingertips added to the taste.
I cut myself last night. Not because I'm a cutter. I just wanted to find out what the teenies get from it. A burning arm, was my conclution. I don't feel better or more normal. Maybe I didn't cut deep enough. Now I have to wear long sleeves for a week, until the criss-crossing red lines fade into tiny scars.
The priest told us all to stand during the last song. But he never said that we had to remain standing, so I sang a line and fell back onto the wooden bench. A friend of mine told me that they have been made uncomfortable to keep people awake during the service. If I was a priest and needed a badly made bench to keep my congregation awake, I would seriously concider getting a new job.
I wonder when I will be able to sleep tonight. Yesterday it was 2:30 a.m. Today, I'm hoping for 00:20.
Today's secret: I'm allergic to make up. I wish I could wear a mask so others didn't have to see the real me the moment they meet me. Maybe I should buy a pair of black contacts.
|Saturday, August 27th, 2005|
Achtung! You are 30% brainwashworthy, 40% antitolerant, and 33% blindly patriotic
Congratulations! You are not susceptible to brainwashing, your values and cares extend beyond the borders of your own country, and your Blind Patriotism does not reach unhealthy levels. If you had been German in the 30s, you would've left the country.
One bad scenario -- as I hypothetically project you back in time -- is that you just wouldn't have cared one way or the other about Nazism. Maybe politics don't interest you enough. But the fact that you took this test means they probably do. I'm gonna give you the benefit of the doubt.
Did you know that many of the smartest Germans departed prior to the beginning of World War II, because they knew some evil shit was brewing? Brain Drain. Many of them were scientists. It is very possible you could have been one of them.
Conclusion: born and raised in Germany in the early 1930's, you would not have been a Nazi.http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=17675020579094199926
Worked at Hole in the Sky last night. Fun, tiring and now I think I've got a cold from being wet for eight+ hours, but I wouldn't change it for the world.
Some of my friends from the bar I worked at were there, both as workers and attendees. We had a blast, got to know a lot of cool people and for me, who worked as a first both at the location and a festival, it was really educational.
Like every festival, things had to go wrong sometimes. I still feel sorry for the stage crew who stood right where the smoke cannon hit him full-blast in the face. He didn't look too good after the third concert. But neither did the guitarist of the band... Someone should have know that strobes + epelepcia might not be the best idea...
When the strobes were turned on during the first song, he went down and stayed down. I guess the singer didn't feel too good standin there going "so... if anybody has got any medical education, I think we need some help here..." I just hope whoever is responsible for that stroke of genious it was get what s/he deserves, because that was just stupid!
Got to kick out the singer of a band I don't like (because he and the band scares the hell out of me). All is well in my world, although I felt a bit paranoid when he glared at me while I walked home with two other girls... and when I met him again in the city... let's just say that I slept with my teddy bear and a knife last night :P
Open letters to a few of the festival attendees:
Dear British guy:
Yeah, I know that all us Norwegians suck, are the lowest form of life on this planet and ridden by rules. I know we all hate you and this is a horrible country and should be wiped from the planet earth. This is still the backstage area, and I will still not let you in.
You're not trying to get into the backstage area, you say? You want to get out of this hell hole, better known as a festival? Well, then don't threaten to beat the tar out of me when I gently try to break it to you that the exit is in the other end of the room. It's not my fault, and I can not change the rooms geographics just for you.
BTW: I was not impressed when you, after spitting, shouting and threatening me, started to cry on your girlfriends shoulder. You are two meters high and BIG. I'm 1.60 and has asthma. If I hadn't been so scared, I would have laughed until I cried.
Please, never come back
You were all great, I loved you to pieces and now I really understand why my friend loves your genre of music. I LOVED hearing you all live and was throughly entertained by the show, even though I only got to see small parts of it.
My only complaint is this: I know you all are in bands, and because of that supposed to drink like there is no tomorrow... but can you at least TRY to puke somewhere else than the floor? Like, take a trash can/flower pot/beer glass/fellow bandmate instead? We who does the clean-up would really appreciate it... I had to wear waders to sweep the floor/move the puke to a corner of the room, and I really feel sorry for the poor sods that are working tomorrow...
Can't seem to ever get clean.
Dear Irish guy:
You really made my day, you know that? I was cold, tired and bored, and you came over and talked to me during the one hour shift I had there. You were funny without flirting and generally a really great guy. Thank you for the inside scoop on one of the bands. I will bring it along to my friend, who's a die-hard fan of them but could not make it to the festival, and I know he will love me for it.
And when I met you again, not only did you remember me, but you ignored the good looking girl on your hand and started to chat a bit more. Made me feel good :P
Please come back next year!
Dear American that I worked with:
You are without doubt the coolest American I have ever met (not that we meet many Americans in this country, but you know what I mean). I still haven't been able to pick my jaw up from the floor from when you found out I was a Christian and APOLOGIZED for your tattoos.
Boy, as I said, they are well shaded, and as long as they're not on my skin, I could not care less that you have a crucified devil with a naked girl pole-dancing around the cross on your back (that was, BTW, one of the coolest tattoos I have ever seen!).
It's not my buisness to be offended of everybody who's not a Christian, boy. I worked at a METAL festival. That's not the world's most Christian music, is it? I knew what I got myself into, and I am there of my own free will.
Hope to see you again, cool guy.
To the guys in Enslaved:
First of all, I'm sorry I stopped one of you four times. Thank you so much for taking it with humor and showing me your band pass before I even asked after that. I was tired and confused and desperately trying to not mess things up, so thank you for not going "diva" on my ass.
An as for the one of you who talked to me for a while... I have talked to others, and we all agree; you are without doubt the coolest guy in the Norwegian metal scene. At least the nicest. You have no clue how much we appreciate the small chitchats and the fact that you take the time to talk to us even though you are hungry, tired and it's less than three hours before you are going onstage.
Thank you, and everybody else, for making this festival GREAT!
Program for my work night:
18.00 Lamented Souls
18.50 High on Fire
20.00 Gehenna (cancelled due to illness after one song)
21.15 Enslaved (great guys!)
22.50 Anathema (fucking brilliant band!)
00.30 Opeth (ok, but I still don't see what the hype is about)
|Sunday, April 17th, 2005|
|Home alone again (finally)
So my mother was visiting. Five days.
She is a very nice person, but I was happy to se her go. This will be the first night in five nights that I can sleep in my own bed, not on the couch, without earplugs (she snores) and without having her coughing and maybe making me sick...
|Wednesday, April 13th, 2005|
|It's aliiiive *thunderclap*
So. Finally got along to writing something in my LJ. Why not, I ask. It's not like I'm able to do anything good these days. It's like the only thing I am able to do is to stay online and waste my life. I flinch and generally looks like something crazy and afraid when I walk the streets. I need my music to be able to go amongst people, because then I don't have to concentrate on the fact that I'm all alone and they are many. I'm not paranoid, I know that no one is after me. I just know that people are scary and evil and might want to hit me or hit on me, both are just as nauseating. All I get is nasty looks and old, disgusting men staring at my boobs. Honestly! I'm fat! Can't you find some young piece of meat that takes your leering as a compliment instead of attacking me? Damn! I'm sick and tired of being a sex symbol for nasty people, idiots and losers that can't aim higher.
A. called me the other day. He asked if we could be friends again. This is the guy I broke the friendship with after he groped me and asked me to take off my shirt for him, although he knew that I was dating someone else, and HATED it when boys uses me as their masturbation fantasies. I told him "yes, if you can behave", but during the conversation, I changed it to a no and hung up. I know now that he will never understand how dirty and disgusting he make me feel, and he will never be able to behave. Hi's world is not like the normal world where most people lives. He told me himself that I was the one hitting on him. Wonder how he interpreted me hitting him when he groped me as "flirting", but he did.
He has the reasoning of a rapist: you wanted it, you just was afraid to say so/ said it with your body / don't admit it to yourself. Dreamer (friend of both me and A., _male_ friend of us) agreed with him. Girls obviously don't know what they want, and need a strong male to tell them. I wonder why I'm not wearing a knife... If someone tries to rape me, I will kill them. I don't care. I don't have support from the legal system (worn leather jacket and jeans... you were OBVIOUSLY after getting raped by him), I don't have support from my friends... Victim here! Walking fucking victim here...
I fear for every girl A. gets close to, both as friend and other ways. He's enigmatic, a poet, and crazy. He's mad, and I thought I could deal with his madness. I told him what I would not accept, and he went along and did it to me and now he claims it was my fault. Is everything in this life my fault?
I'm just so fucking tired of being a victim. It is none of your damn business of making me even more a victim. I don't trust people easely, and during the last six months, I had to break all contact with two of my friends while others have just drifted away... One of them were A., the other was Wannabe-Bat. The last one, I'm pretty happy about. She was chocking me and taking advantage of me. When I told her how I felt, she told me this was just a horrible day for her and I was evil for bringing up these old things on such a bad day. Fine. Current Mood: Broken
|Battle Royal (Batoru Rowaiaru)
I'm just finished watching it. I started last night, stopped after five or so kids were dead and had a nightmare about it this night. I was in battle royal, although I was not fifteen like the kids there are supposed to be, I was twenty.
My mystery weapon was super lucky! It was a spray that killed everybody I sprayed with it. A bug spray, but it worked, and it worked on humans. I killed my own friends using that spray, but they did not die completely- They stayed as semi-opaque ghosts that helped me. I even remember one of them pointing out that someone was hiding under the sofa (this was no friend of mine, so after I had killed her, she disappeared). I slept under the sofa that night, two shadowy ghosts holding watch over me while I slept...
The environment where we fought was bizarre. It was like a normal, small town with forest around it. Most kids were fighting in the forest, but a lot of them were fighting in the town as well. But that was not the bizarre part... there were people there that were not a part of the war. They continued their lives as if people were not killing each other in their supermarkets, gardens and schools, IN FRONT OF THEIR EYES! Maybe this is how the world really is, but it still seemed strange...
Then I dreamt on that I woke up, got out from under the sofa and went to some junkfood-joint to get breakfast. While standing in line, I saw a girl I recognized (actually the only girl in my life that I hate). The bitch I shared a room with last year, that made my life there pretty much more hellish than neccesairly... She was a part of the game, she greeted me friendly (how is it that the people you hate the most always do that?) and then started the hunt. Her weapon was a knife. I woke up the moment she tried to stab me. The dream ended with her knife a couple of inches away from my back as she held the collar of my shirt, holding me back.
So today I saw the film... It was hell, but I'm usually very easy both to scare and squeak when it comes to movies. I can write the most gore-filled stories myself, but the moment I see a girl's throat slit, I chocke.
What about the movie, you say? It was horrible, terrible, brilliant and will most likely follow me for a long time. I cannot understand the ones that say that the movie is "cheap" or "just gory". The smiling winner in the beginning of the movie is a perfect beginning, the Edward Scissorhands-like maniac that goes through the movie without ever speaking, and who kills without a passion is both scary and interesting... the pain and blood you can see as school friends kill each other, only to find out that they were in love with each other is a cliché, yes, but fifteen-years-olds LIVE that cliché to the fullest.
The only flaw I see in this movie is the logick behind battle royal. Will not the fact that you can get killed by going to school make more kids drop out? I know I would. Would it not make the kids want to fight back against a government that wants to kill them? Or at least run and hide? And why did they let the winner go? This young girl or boy has just proven that not only is s/he is a good killer? Is it not likely that s/he will repeat her/his crime when s/he gets back into society?
It is known that children coming from countries that have used them as child soldiers are likely to kill or be involved in violence crimes?
Besides that, the movie is brilliant and terrible. It's like some guy at imdb.com said: if you think you can take it, see it!
Current Mood: cold innside...
|Monday, February 21st, 2005|
|In a writing mood today...
I think that is only because I then don't have to do my homework...
This little snippet from my life is about God himself... no, that was wrong. This time it is supposed to be about Burton. Jeah, THAT Burton. Tim Burton.
He has been busy lately, making movies he knows I will love, and of cause, I love him for that. First, we have Charlie and the Chocolate Factory with the worlds most lovable blockbuster-killer, Johnny Depp in a lead role as Willy Wonka.
Is it just me, or does he look a bit like Marilyn Manson with that wig?
(Speaking of Marilyn: he is also starring as cast in a new movie from a children's book. Namely Alice in Wonderland. And just to disappoint all of you people hoping that he would be the Cheshire Cat: he will not. He'll play the Queen of Hearts! (now is the time you spit all the contents in your mouth onto your screen). Marilyn Manson, the most feminine-looking American (and yes, this is including both Paris Hilton and Billy Martin) will play a lady... pass the estrogen is all I'll say about that...)
The other movie is Princess Bride, who I promote here constantly by using my sucky, self-made icon. I love this movie, and I have yet to see it... It is a doll film, just like A Nightmare Before Christmas, and I'm still singing on that one... (this is halloween, this is halloween... *stops singing*)
So all I want to say tonight is:
Chewing Gum is really gross / Chewing Gum I hate the most...