Monday, September 22, 2008

red deers

Feels like 5 shots of wilfred owen on an empty stomach ): I don't think i will ever be happy again because the movie's so damn good it made me so depressed. life sucks, but it sucks even more now. nick's deranged expression is so firmly entrenched in my mind like dried blood. why nick why? why do you have to pull that trigger? is there really no way back? oh god, will i even be able to sleep tonight? 

NICKKKKKKKKKKKKK

i feel like swearing, die vietcong die, but i guess the real perpetrators are those gamblers that encouraged the game. this will prob be offensive to a lot of people, but i seriously don't understand the joy of watching people hurt each other for money. or even being spectators. like, wrestling ought to be banned. and boxing. and chicken fighting. and whatever that involves two subjects trying to take the other one out on a ring with screaming idiots egging them on. it's downright sadistic, and these people really should take turns being the subjects one day. it's not that im being a puritan or maybe i am but im denying it, but really, violence on an entertainment level should be wiped out. i mean, violence itself already suggests the senselessness of pulling punches. it's unlike maybe say, muay thai or fencing which actually has a set of training and 1101e. wrestling just seems so... inferior. why pay to watch something like that? just go to some random shady pub and get some free show up close. 

and what is worse than dying in a war in a less glorified way, is dying in a less glorified way without a cause. blame foreign intervention, and the old men in tux with bulging tummies and their starbucks takeaways in air conditioned offices in white. who wouldnt pledge their sons to the front line, but actively cajoles young men from comfortable homes, from safe classrooms, from libraries, from science labs and basketball courts and plant them in pits of death and helpless evil. where they are forced to stab their own, clothed in a different coloured uniform if they don't want to be returned with the favour. can you imagine, one moment learning about newton's third law and worrying about the next algebra test, and the next moment crawling through some smelly old trench with rats in a godforsaken plot of dirt with a bomb next to you? 

suddenly, viva la vida doesn't seem so inspiring anymore ):

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