the notebook.
[:music:] humming of the air con in the lab[:mood :] hungry.
java class. hehe. wala lang.
hm..i watched the notebook last saturday with ellen, myk, and svet. honestly the movie was aesthetically pretty. i mean, the casting was great, cinematography rocked, everything was nice...i guess except for the whole storyline. i read the book back in high school and i found it nice. watching the movie, though in this time and place made me vomit. it was totally predictable, and the love story was too perfect top even comprehend! i mean, the perfection in the whole movie was not real. somehow i wanted it to be more realistic, or close to what real life is. unfortunately i did not find that in the movie. the book was good. i remember really falling in love with the book (Jane made me read it) not only because of the story but also because of the poetic stuff embedded in the story. that was one thing the movie lost. they may have retained some lines but it quite wasn't enough. also, the antagonist factor was like..not an antagonist at all! i told you it was too perfect..
that night sheena and talked about the flick and she agreed with me. ya know that movie reminds us too much of what we would die for--someone to love us perfectly. thing is, it's not always like that. sometimes we have to stand alone. actually not sometimes. it's ALL THE TIME. yes, i am guilty of desperately wanting someone to love me but you know, sometimes, when life doesn't give you what you want, you learn to accept. funny how i'm talking like this when i'm so pissed about a few things
nowadays.
i realized something. i realized that this is what i feel right now.
vague? lemme explain. i feel like i'm at a stop on an intersection. everyone's going somewhere, either left or right, running after something..someone..when i wanna get to the other side. i can either go left or right along with the others but i can go straight--get to the other side and leave all the traffic behind. great, ain't it? i dunno...
oh well..
i'm dizzy as drunk could be
eleven on my clock
twelve in yours
time speeding so fast
when in your arms.
she's going down the drain
you're lost in her eyes
when i scratch my nails on the wall.
and you don't hear
crying tears on the floor
rain through doors.
jars of clay old and grey
crack and fall
like me when i call
you can't hear me.
you can't hear me.
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