Love and scandal are the best sweeteners of tea. —Henry Fielding

05 August 2004

I'm not the blueprint for all of your B-films

I wanna sock someone. I once told Wahima I never got the urge to hit anyone.  Today I have it.  I have no idea what that's about.  But seeing The Manchurian Candidate has done nothing to curb this weird free-fall feeling I have today.  I want to hurt someone.  The life I am living right now is sometimes not the one I want to live.  I feel so unhappy with myself sometimes.  The way I live.  Why do I have to be so lazy?  Why must I put so many things off?  Why do I still do things I don't want to do? 

So much has been expected of me for so long.  There were so many dreams that other people had... and there was my dream... of living a life out of a magazine: hardwood floors, metal coffee tables, occasionally shallow take-charge friends, lemon drops.  Well that's only one of my dreams.

Dry was a literary Requiem for a Dream.

The Manchurian Candidate was a fairly good movie.  But it was a remake.  The original is still better.  Meryl Streep was fabulous.  Her work felt new and original and masterful.  But it was a remake.  The original had brilliant, witty dialogue.  Not this movie.  This movie was chilling and gross and got under my skin like an implant, like Demme's Silence of the Lambs, and it made me squirm like Marathon Man did.  But I felt like I'd seen it before... and I had.  There's nothing new in this movie except Meryl Streep and some good direction.

I'm gonna wake up and do yoga.  I've got to do something.  I'm going stir-crazy.  Too bad I'm not gonna be able to sleep.