"We pass the word around; we ponder how the case is put by different people, we read the poetry; we meditate over the literature; we play the music; we change our minds; we reach an understanding. Society evolves this way, not by shouting each other down, but by the unique capacity of unique, individual human beings to comprehend each other." - Lewis Thomas

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

The Beauty Of An Angel More Commonly Known As...

A smile that melts the ice
Eyes which cure the worst affliction
A voice of angelic benediction
An aura of unmatched glory
Elegance complete and voice of vice
A beauty far beyond memento mori
And a heart admired by the dove.
Who's warmth surpasses Mortal Love.



Authors note 03:
"Roses are Red
Violets are blue
All that I known Is:
I really love you"

A Seemingly Impossible task...

"I would firstly like to say that this is my first real blog, ever. I'm not really sure nor all that confident that I truly understand the premise of them but here it goes. Have some otherworldly mercy on this un-knowledgeable word-smith..." - Author's Note 04

I have been trying, and seemingly failing, at finding a truly GOOD horror movie for a few years now. In the past couple weeks this interest in uncovering this unsolved mystery of mine. Yet, as I dig deeper into the achieves of films, movies, and even some scripts I am becoming more and more convinced that this is an oxymoron (good horror). Currently the 'beef' that I have with this, is every so often I am looking for a good scare, or at least to be intrigued by the possibility of an ever lurking evil [seems to give life, for me at least, a tad bit more of an interesting edge]. I suppose a large factor with this fiendish mission, which I have laid out, is in all aspects of my art (short stories, films, poetry) I enjoy to toy with the very weak strings of our reality. Which is in the potential of all horror movies, or at least the well written ones.

What I can not fathom in all these TERRIBLE films is that with a little extra attention to detail and a slight level of caring about the piece could create what I am looking for. Actors, for instance, fear should be a natural 'emotion' for most of humanity. As, no matter what the background of the actor, all people have experience a level of fear within their life (whether they admit or not). Yet none seem to be able to tap into that fear, so now I ask how can they be actors? This could be the fault of the director and the appalling lack of direction given by them. Again I am back to the attention to detail and caring and the lack of it in most of these films. Even in Hollywood films (the supposed center of film making culture), there is a surprising lack of...well, everything. Oh, which starts me on another gear griding factor, ending horror movies with a 'happy' ending. Obviously, ending every movie with the death of the characters gets dull, I acknowledge this, but there are different endings. Personally, I feel unsatisfied when a horror movies ends with a 'happy-ish' ending; it leaves nothing for the audience to interrupt nor fear as the point of the term 'horror'.

The majority of horror movie scripts(the story and plot within it) give a level of insight into the lively reality around us. It is more so the execution than the storyline. In fact the beautiful cinematography in most horror films and the intriguing story lines are the sole reason I am determined to find a good one. Horror movies open the door for many opportunities for cinematographers that other genres do not. However, if you are like me - determined - keep telling yourself that eventually there will be that one 'diamond in the rough' that is worth watching and will send chills down the spines of horror lovers everywhere.

To wrap this little rant of mine up, it is important that I say that not every horror movie I have seen or has been put on trial was TERRIBLE, just most have been. There is yet to be one that is excellent and recommendable, however much I may recommend some. As this task continues, I must also mention that Psychological Thrillers are an excellent substitute for the horror lover. There is much less siphoning through ridiculously disturbing (not scary just disgusting: Rape, Zombie Sex, etc. unnecessary disturbance that is tossed into some of these horror-fiction stories) stories. Yet, you receive much of the same suspense and rushes that horror gives you.

Thank you/Merci,


Aside: A a point of interest on the Author's Notes, it has been a recent choice of mine to add them to all of my writings. If following me, you will receive them in random orders, as I write in notebooks, other websites, journals and so on. It just allows for the stream of consciousness of my mind to be put onto 'paper' and be formed into words. There is no real connection between them, just a style aspect, I think?

Monday, November 30, 2009

"Life is not an easy task, it never has been. Yet we strive for the path that is the least disturbed, why? I have never understood this. Even though Aggression we are finding an easier way to achieve the ultimate goal. Life, as I find it, is not about finding that 'easy out' life is taking the hard road, determined to survive it, strive to find the ultimate medium, not to coast. I have discovered that everything in my life, I appreciate much more because I have had to fight for it." - Authors Note 02

The sky was grey, filling the void of blue with raindrops like fires in a chemical field. An orange glow from the digital clock, resting on one of his shelves shone directly onto his eye lids. The simple walls coloured with posters of films and an empty calender of the wrong month. The shelves above the clock were filled with unread books and CDs never listened too. The end of the bed was an over flowing laundry hamper, and a leather coat tossed on the ground. On a desk, below the shelves, a textbook lay open and unread next to a keyboard. The digital glow changed and read 8:00. Suddenly the tranquility of silence was broken by the repetition of an arrogant beeping, buzzing noise.

A half full cup of cold coffee sat on the corner of the desk. The walls were covered in ranging from pictures of friends at 'parties' to artistic photographs taken by her or professional photographers. Her shelves above her head held `nothing except for textbooks on philosophy and other subjects as well as an alarm clock. Her hair lay on the across, covering completely, the keyboard of her laptop. The floor was spotless, a drawer on her dresser was open, her clothes completely organized, folded neatly and kept apart from each other. On the laptop, photographs of friends and family randomly shuffled through each other. Her blinds were drawn, yet morning light still shone through onto the back of her head. She was wearing pajama pants and a shirt which she had worn the day before. Her clock turned to 8:00, the air filled with her favorite song. Playing loudly, her eyes opened slowly.

There was a continuous and loud knock at his door. "Dude..." a voice called from behind it. There was a few second wait in between. "...you realize we have a class at this time? Get your ass up, I'm not letting you miss another class." The clicking noise of a handle being attempted to open, then a shout "Man, I know you're in there! Seriously, if you don't get your ass up, I'm breaking down this door." then the knocking started again.

Once she realized she was singing along to the lyrics, her mind snapped back to reality. Her eyes went straight the clock, then pulled open the blinds and looked outside. "Shit!" she said under breath, looking at what she was wearing, and attempting to figure out if she had time to shower. Deciding quickly, that she did not and would shower after her class. Scavenging her open drawer she found a new shirt and opening another she found a nice pair of skinny jeans(?). Looking in her mirror to fix her elegant brunette hair, she put on light mascara and pocketed some lip gloss before quickly leaving her room and her house.

Reluctantly rolling out of bed, in nothing but boxers he opened the door to his roommates banging. "What the hell do you want Jason?" Wiping sleep out of his and picking up the clothes from yesterdays adventures, he sat back down on his unkempt bed. His short brown hair still gelled from the day before. Scratching is stomach while staring at the clock, he starts pulling on his jeans. "You look like shit mate." Jason commented on the large black bags under his eyes, as he picked up a dirty shirt and smelt it. As they left his room he did a quick check of his hair, moving a couple around.

He yawned and stretched as, he slipped into shoes and tossed on a jacket before venturing into the rain. Jason leaned against the post and watched his roommate and friend, work around the issue of tying shoes under sleep deprivation. Laughing to himself, he took a sip out of a mug of coffee and moved to the door. "How is it you people work at this hour? Why the hell am I up so early?"
"Dude if you don't like mornings, don't register for morning classes dumbass."
"Yeah, well." mumbling under his breath.

She had been rushing to class, and not paying attention to the time she was early. Her face was cold as she unraveled herself from herself from her scarf and taking off her jacket. Revealing a slim body, accented by a tight fitting long sleeved Tee, there was a small silver necklace with a clover pendant around her neck.