Dreams, films and storms

"who's turn is it to do the washing up?"
The parents look at each other. You look at the remnants of brocolli on your plate.
"I think its Amy's," says mum. Amy continues defrosting something in the microwave.
"Or is it tomorrow? Either today or tomorrow."
You slink out of the room, trying to look inconspicuous in your purple and green jumper. The sounds of a heated argument ferment in your wake, from which arise comments like "For God's sake! How many times do i have to tell you NOT to put so much dishwashing liquid in" and "if i'm going to do the washing up, just LET ME."

The dramatics of family life. You can be faintly amused by them, but most of the time, they just repulse you.

Through writing out your own perspective, you are able to see the flaws in it, sometimes. It makes sense in your head, because it steps forward at all the right times. But when you put it into word, sometimes it just looks absurd. For example- it was from writing that dreaming hasn't really been an option for the past couple of years made me realise how stupid it was not to. You gotta hope, right? Otherwise there's nothing. Nothing to aspire to, and so you either stagnate in a static state, or else veer off to find yourself in a place that you have no recollection of ever wanting to go. So i've thought up a few dreams. They're fragile in their newly born state, but i'm nurturing them, for now. They may die prematurely- but you gotta take your chances, eh?

Three pieces of fruit sit before me. A pear, a nectarine and an apple. Forgot about them. I was doing a still life study latterly, for art, oh shit, i don't want to talk about art.

harumph.
It stormed like you wouldn't believe yesterday. The rain came down in torrents, and the trees writhed and twisted. Every time thunder sounded, the windows literally shook. So did i, actually. Well, rather i started. The storm came in the morning- i was a little disappointed at that; its so strange when there's a storm when mornings sun can still peep through. I was fumbling over the piano keys at the time, and the first few booms caused me to sound an equal number of dischordant notes. However, i was caught by nature's pure energy, and got all excited when playing Missy Higgins "Nightminds", becoming all dramatic, pounding away ferociously, then retreating to a tender and quivering melody. ha.

Good God. Lads, if you haven't watched the film "Crash", you must. You simply must. Its....beyond words. Ineffably, impossibly brilliant. BRILLIANT. It's Frankie's favourite movie, and now i understand why.
I watched another movie last night called 1408. eh. It lost its steam pretty quickly, and i was a little disappointed as it deviated into a place where credibility was null. However, i am scared rather easily at horror films, and therefore there existed quite a number of moments where i clung to the pillow.
haha, i watched I Am Legend recently too. good good. bugger ending. lots of christian implications. How the hell did they get so smart? And why the hell weren't they burning from the light? Questions unexplained....i was left unsatisfied in that area, but otherwise found it entertaining (hey, yeah, i know..."entertaining?" i just can't think of another word for 'good'.)

QUOTES OF THE DAY:

"The nice part about being a pessimist is that you are constantly either proven right or pleasantly surprised."-- George F. Will

"A real hero is always a hero by mistake; he dreams of being an honest coward like everybody else." -- Umberto Eco