Made the mistake last night in bed of watching 'Stir Of Echoes' - a horror film starring Kevin Bacon. Amazing i know, that I could be scared out of my wits by a film that stars Kevin Bacon - but there you go. Every single time a movie starts and that creepy music begins and the camera starts sweeping across ominous barren landscapes or creepy grandfather clocks or scary house interiors, I know that I should just click the remote control and switch to an old 'Friends' rerun or a music video channel. But i just can't help myself.
You see i LOVE scary movies...but i hate them too. Like rubber-necking a fatal accident on a congested motorway, I just can't help myself from looking. I mean, to be fair, there is only one type of horror movie that i absolutely can't bear and that's the kind that involves supernatural ghosts/demons/other miscellaneous spirits. Anything to do with the supernatural that involves apparitions or deeply evil voices speaking forth from innocent looking kiddies gets me every time.
The problem is that when i find myself alone at night my brilliantly over-active imagination often conjures things up and I find myself imagining I can almost see/hear things that go bump in the night. It's the frustrated actor in me i suppose, but i'll tell you what, the mind is a strange thing and shadows and house creaks at night often fall prey to my strange mental wanderings and i find myself cursing the last horror flick i saw.
Strangely enough, for whatever reason, I find myself able to watch gore or people being sawed up into tiny pieces. I actually sat through 'Hostel' (which I must tell you is only for the strong of stomach) which depicted rather realistic torture scenes and hacking people to death. I was repelled but intrigued. Go figure (maybe i'm a sicko at heart?!)
Anyway, being a fan of Kevin Bacon I allowed myself to watch half of the movie last night, but when the little boy in the film said (in a ominous husky man voice):
"Leave the boy alone and talk to ME"
that's when i switched the telly off and picked up my library book that I've been trying to get through for ages and have renewed three times and stubbornly refuse to give up on. It's by A.M. Homes and is called, 'This Book Will Save Your Life'. Go figure.
Saturday, 29 September 2007
Saturday, 22 September 2007
Moronic Morons
It's 1:30am and I'm up with two mentalists having a somewhat moronic conversation about what constitutes a 'moron'. This is somewhat relevant because I was lovingly accusing someone of being a moron and they (rightly so) turned it right back at me and accused ME of being a moron. Upon reflection I had to agree.
A moron is someone who is being a loser but doesn't have to be. Well that's what my definition happens to be anyway. I think though, i'd rather be a moron than a loser because there at least is a nugget of hope in a moron's future, whereas a loser by definition seems to be marked from birth. Again, this is merely my definition.
Why do I and two others find ourselves up in the wee hours of the night discussing something so pointless yet depressing? Well it doesn't help that we're listening to an itunes playlist that borders on suicidal. It also doesn't help that we (okay mainly me) indulged in too many fresh powdered mini donuts about a hour ago and are now coming down off a catastrophic sugar high.
So anyway, being a moron, i'm going to go to bed. Why subject moronic mutterings to the world at large? I'd best brush my stupid teeth, then pop out my contacts and flick them across the room indifferently before burying my moronic self under my cozy duvet.
All you morons out there, please get in touch. We are going to start a new tribe. The Order of the Moronic Morons. In your application please state which attributes you possess which make you suitabe for inclusion. No need to enclose a picture. Beauty is irrelevant. We are only interested in what lies beneath.
Come all ye who are stupid and weary...we shall talk about conquering the world whilst doing sweet F___ all. Come.
A moron is someone who is being a loser but doesn't have to be. Well that's what my definition happens to be anyway. I think though, i'd rather be a moron than a loser because there at least is a nugget of hope in a moron's future, whereas a loser by definition seems to be marked from birth. Again, this is merely my definition.
Why do I and two others find ourselves up in the wee hours of the night discussing something so pointless yet depressing? Well it doesn't help that we're listening to an itunes playlist that borders on suicidal. It also doesn't help that we (okay mainly me) indulged in too many fresh powdered mini donuts about a hour ago and are now coming down off a catastrophic sugar high.
So anyway, being a moron, i'm going to go to bed. Why subject moronic mutterings to the world at large? I'd best brush my stupid teeth, then pop out my contacts and flick them across the room indifferently before burying my moronic self under my cozy duvet.
All you morons out there, please get in touch. We are going to start a new tribe. The Order of the Moronic Morons. In your application please state which attributes you possess which make you suitabe for inclusion. No need to enclose a picture. Beauty is irrelevant. We are only interested in what lies beneath.
Come all ye who are stupid and weary...we shall talk about conquering the world whilst doing sweet F___ all. Come.
Thursday, 6 September 2007
Heart Ache
This past week I went through a major trauma. A member of my family was suddenly struck ill and my whole world collapsed. In a moment, all the things that had been pissing me off and causing me anxiety ceased to matter. My dwindling bank account? whatever.... My lack of excitement and general boredom with life? whatever... Hurts and grudges borne by others and inflicted by myself? whatever...
Luckily the outcome was positive (well we hope and believe it is) and I've been able to step back, take a deep breath and get my head together. But standing over a hospital bed in Emergency in the middle of the night, it was a different story. I had a real life lesson in what it feels like to have your heart truly 'break'.
It made me realise that when people are going through grief and major trauma and you send a card or ring them on the phone and they seem slightly aloof and withdrawn, it's not because they don't appreciate your thoughfulness. It's because they are in a different time and place to you and the rest of the world. They are existing OUTSIDE time and space in a place where it is hard, if not impossible, for anyone to reach.
Conversations about everyday things seem impossible when you're in that place, and you find yourself guzzling cup after cup of bitter coffee and staring at giant screens playing repetitive CNN through glazed, sleep-deprived eyes. Your stomach feels like it's eating itself and you're either ravenously hungry or unable to eat at all.
Having come out of such a place, without having lost a loved one, I feel like the luckiest person on earth. It feels better than I imagine winning the lottery must feel, and I step back into everyday life a slightly wiser, definately more appreciative, and slightly changed person. I am one of the lucky ones.
10:59 -
Luckily the outcome was positive (well we hope and believe it is) and I've been able to step back, take a deep breath and get my head together. But standing over a hospital bed in Emergency in the middle of the night, it was a different story. I had a real life lesson in what it feels like to have your heart truly 'break'.
It made me realise that when people are going through grief and major trauma and you send a card or ring them on the phone and they seem slightly aloof and withdrawn, it's not because they don't appreciate your thoughfulness. It's because they are in a different time and place to you and the rest of the world. They are existing OUTSIDE time and space in a place where it is hard, if not impossible, for anyone to reach.
Conversations about everyday things seem impossible when you're in that place, and you find yourself guzzling cup after cup of bitter coffee and staring at giant screens playing repetitive CNN through glazed, sleep-deprived eyes. Your stomach feels like it's eating itself and you're either ravenously hungry or unable to eat at all.
Having come out of such a place, without having lost a loved one, I feel like the luckiest person on earth. It feels better than I imagine winning the lottery must feel, and I step back into everyday life a slightly wiser, definately more appreciative, and slightly changed person. I am one of the lucky ones.
10:59 -
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