Last night I watched 'Match Point', a film I knew absolutely nothing about before popping it into the DVD drive. I soon found it that Woody Allen directed it. Well, I thought, at least there is that. He usually injects a bit of depth into his films. The story turned out to be quite unexpected. I was happily surprised. The protagonist, in the end, chooses a life which is more comfortable over a life which is unstable but arguably makes him much more happy/satisfied. The film does not take any sides on this ...
When I was in Praha two weeks ago, I told Michal all about LucÃÂa. Well, probably not ALL about, but a good deal, anyway. We were rather blasted at the time, for sure. Since then (and prior, to an extent) the feeling has washed over me that it is finally time. Of course, I have written drivel similar to that sentence a multitude of times in the past, so it may not be immediately believed. Still, the feeling floods. The floorboards of my mind are sodden. The rafters will soon be entombed in the deluge. I ...
I haven't seen this film in over 15 years. My opinions shall follow. ...
I'd like to make some sort of intelligent commentary on this film, but I seem unable to be coherent at the moment. So how is that for meta-tagging the entry? The feeling, from the beginning, is fucking intense. What a great start! What do you think, my elegant reader? I stopped the film just now. I was going to register something --- mayhap here, mayhap in yon journal, but it has escaped me. Shit. Definately, this film burns like Acy's blowtorch to the leg of my cardtable back in 1991. You can feel the ten...
I just pissed in a bottle because there is someone in the jointly shared toilet/bathroom in this fetid place. ...
At this very moment, I'd love to hear the song Been Alone so Long by Peter Hammill. It seems to sum up the evening though it really, rationally has not been so long since I have been alone. Just over three days. Funny how time can scrape and maul your senses. It seems like years, decades. And she transforms herself into the one who can survive her run of the mill world, the world I am very rarely allowed to see - HoneybunÃÂčka land. I am not very happy about the September memory of her calling & ...
Breakfast time! Darling is showering again, which is a prime time to write, don'tcha think? A great deal of yesterday was spent with the grandparents, chowing down, chatting, and poking whenever possible. Poking is one of the favourite pastimes of my darling, and, apparently, her grandfather. Directness has taken on a new dimension in this family, let me tell ya! During the ending portion of lunch, I was barraged, by proxy, with a series of "personal" questions, culminating in my thoughts about children in ...
Krnov in a makeshift couchbed as the timid girl of my dreams takes a long morning shower. I am happy as a child in this place. Trains carried me satisfactorily to the small but unassuming railway station yesterday. I disembarked and walked hand in hand with Jana through the town, taking a long way, finally arriving here where I have recently given up on sleeping and plan to pursue vigorously the new day. Xmas day, according to the legends, they all say. Meeting the family can always be an awkward situatio...
My woman lies in the other room on the bed with a book. The only words she has spoken to me since I returned from work were sarcastic or scurrilous. She claims her mood springs from our Skype chat earlier. I invited her to go to a film tonight and she asked why I liked sitting down so much. She said she'd go, but I have to go to power yoga with her in return. I told her I would not feel comfortable in a group exercise environment (which is certainly true) and she was patently offended, it seems. W...
At this moment, a techno/hip hop version of Zarozinia by Hawkwind is permeating the office from the speakers attached to the laptop of my officemate, Petr. Well, what should I expect, really, considering the abortion I heard yesterday? (Baba ORiley by The Who.) I yearn for the peace of my own office space. So ...
Strange how these days remind me of six years prior. SIX YEARS! Can I enumerate the situations which have held me in limbo since then? They are not to be numbered. They cannot be. I shall go out to smoke a cigarette, down the spiral stairs and onto the parking lot. Delivery men will watch me passively. Oh, the boss is here. What shall I do? If I have to sit here all day doing nothing important, I shall squeeze my own liver out of my torso and feed it to the bastards who make me live a life which is unimpor...
