Do I look like Joseph Gordon Levitt?

Sitting on fresh new white bed sheets. The crisp plastic-like smell reminding me that I really should have washed them first. It’s just passed one thirty a.m. and I still can’t sleep. Last night I saw Mysterious Skin at the Nova Cinemas in Carlton. Being arguably the most thought provoking/disturbing film I’ve seen, I had trouble keeping my body from shaking, collapsing, and even vomiting as I left the cinema. The taxi ride home was full of frozen limbs and uncomfortable stares up towards the streetlights.



The white bed sheets. They’re white. No blood, no violence. Crisp. Sterile.

My imagination continues to run wild, allowing myself to substitute myself in Neil’s place. Sitting on the train, dripping in blood, in shock and frozen. Seeing him arrive home, undressing and curling up in the corner of the bathroom, crying, made me feel helpless and at the same time, pathetic at the things I get frustrated about.

There’s something horrific about mixing paedophilic themes with Fruit Loops.

I can’t stop crying. I feel like screaming.
It’s wrong that fucking bastards get away with this shit. I hope they all burn in hell. I would never. Ever. Be able to forgive someone who has committed any of the gutless and desperate crimes seen in Mysterious Skin. No one is given the right to violate something in that manner. No one should have to experience them.

Those who have and have been able to face another day, wake up and laugh, hate, cry and love are testaments to the human spirit. They make up for all the disgusting characteristics of those who violate such pleasures.

OnAir with BlackPunk : Coldplay – X&Y [LP]

- written @ 1:58AM September 19 2005