Time has strings like a guitar

This was last Friday, Thursday and Saturday night all mushed into one 12 second video. It's all I wanna do. I call it spectator sport. I sit, drink, smoke, sometimes talk (usually the same stuff from the night before); sometimes, think; sometimes, laugh; sometimes, wait; sometimes, read; sometimes, doodle; sometimes, write; sometimes, sulk; and, lately, take a bunch of pictures consecutively and string them together, like so. Sometimes....

Most times, though, I am on the road, like a real roadie, or semi-roadie, or what-have-you, as a regular commuter. This is when I sleep the best when I am on the go. Things are happening and moving and I feel like the most free, at this time. Free to sleep. Free to dream a little dream. But, I still try to open my eyelids from time to time to take a peak at reality.

Notes on romance

Or, the lack thereof. Or, the lack thereof-a-real-one as opposed to an imaginary-one-thereof. Or something, something, something, like that.

As posted, I am in this romantic-comedy kick, lately. When I go to the videstore, or the web, to find a new film, no other genre interests me more. It didn't use to be like this. I used to avoid this genre like a plague, or just didn't see it as "serious" enough, for me. Back then, and I still do from time to time, I only used to watch "art films." But, the times are a changing. I am not saying that art films are dead. But, they are very far and few between. In contrast, there's an abundance of romantic-comedies out there for a thirsty film-watcher, like myself. It seems like this genre is a perfect recipe to concoct serious ingredients like romance and what-have-you into something to laugh about. So, for a serious guy like myself, it's a nice diversion.

And, that is why romantic-comedies are good. It's like the opposite of me. And, opposites attract. I also find that a lot of romantic-comedies, besides getting a laugh out of you, are mostly true about what it's saying. It's a different kind of truth than art films. I could say that art films are more about the middle-road of romance, whereas, mainstream or even "independent" romantic-comedies are more about the end and beginning of romance. Where art films stylize romance, romantic-comedies kind of make it natural. Either way, both are educational and I am finally trying to catch up to all those love-lessons that I missed from having neglected this genre before. I mean, the hardest thing, after all, is starting the fire and of course, the end is also difficult, as I can imagine. So, hopefully, after this film-diet of romantic-comedies, I will be schooled in the game-of-love and then, it will rub off in my real life and I will not be so love-struck. Or, at least, that's the plan. One must always have a plan, right?

Romantic-Folly

That's the genre that I wanna create. Or, rather, I am in! It's like a romantic-comedy, except, less funny. The only one laughing is me because it's the only thing left to do in the after-math. And, of course, the only one is me, me, and me in the before-math, as well. What does this all mean? Well, people, I am back at netflix and my que is full of romantic-comedies. I signed up for the 3-at-a-time deal and the first 3 batch that arrived are "The Science of Sleep," "Hitch" and "Love, Actually." I am watching the remainder of TSoS after I fell asleep the first time I watched it last night. How ironic, except, my dreams aren't as lucid as it is for the main character in the film. In fact, I don't dream, at all. Or, don't remember them, if i do. The only time I dream is when I am awake. It's like my life is reversed. When I sleep is when I am actually working.

From the bunch, I can already tell that TSoS will be the quirkiest. I am looking forward to watching every romantic-comedy ever made and that is probably, like, 99% of every film produced. I am taking a guess that the remaining 1% are those governmental instructional films that were made in the 1950's or something.

Well, time to pop in movie #2 as this film is done. And, so is this post. Ta-ta.

Say hello to persistent youth

Or, giant acne. But, you know, in some countries, pimples, especially big ones like mine, is a sign of virility, maturity and prosperity. Look it up! I've named it Oompha-Loompha. And, oh, I made video to prove it.

Ink is not water proof

And so is paper and that's how this letter that I tried to write this afternoon drowned in my own liquids.

I drink alone

Therefore, I dream alone, too.

House of booze

If I was a lyricist, I'd write down some lyrics. But, I'm not, so I'll just blog it.

Saturday felt like a saturday
It wasn't Friday, for sure, nor
Sunday
Not yet, at least
No, Saturday was distinctly Saturday
There was nothing to stop Saturday
from becoming a working day and
at the same time, a relaxing day
Saturday was that and also that
Saturday was this and
this and his
and hers
and theirs
and mine
and yours
and time
Saturday was that
Yes, another jolly great time
I worked, or rather, I worked!
Like, I did something on Saturday
Besides, sleep
And now it is Sunday, again
The bargaining has slipped away
The bar again on a long day
Sip, sip, sipping
and hopping the stop
and waving to the top
and making my phone
into a camera-shop
one more shot
equals a thousand
you know what!