The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Monday would be the thesis defense, and now I'm doing the final touches to the powerpoint presentation. I'm rummaging through my travel pics, trying to locate something ideal, then I couldn't for the life of me figuring out why on earth I was so mad at them back then. Well, I mean, I know why I was angry, I know exactly what the problem was, but now the issue seemed quite trivial to me. Perhaps it's what most things will appear to be when it's time to leave this world. It doesn't really matter whether it's because the distance or time makes everything more beautiful than they actually were or rearranged in another sequence. I just miss that time a lot and wish that it could end in some other way even though it's impossible. I have, on top of fond remembrances, great remorses.

Los lunes al sol

Watched Los lunes al sol last weekend for the second time since the first viewing some 5 and a half years ago in Spain. I then went with no particular reason, without knowing much about what the film was all about except that it had won tons of awards here and there, went purely because she wanted to see it. When the credits started to roll I was literally on my knees tearing out of pure joy to be able to get the fuck out of Van Dyck and back on to the streets and the fresh air.

I have the habit of trying to acquire every film I'd watched, every song I'd listened to, or practically anything that I can remember that reminds me of that time, during my stay there, in a apparently futile attempt to recreate the past. Then came one day when nostalgia hit me hard and down bowed I went searching for it among the DVDs, but alas! It wasn't there! Desperately, I sought the answer in my head, but memory was against me, it wasn't like what they say at all, it wasn't found. Lights were out.

Nevertheless all was not lost, for the uni library harbours a fucking copy of it, completes with a goddamn extra disk of interviews, the making of and other stuff! Enraptured I was, and with the first appearance of light in the sky off I went towards my salvation. And much more than my expectation of quenching the thirst, the second time was surely a blast, a blast form the past, and I can assure you that it wasn't just because remembrance, like alcohol, makes everything so much more beautiful, but that I actually loved the film so much that literally was on my knees tearing out of appreciation of it. Then I thanked her for wanting to see it some 5 and a half years ago.

Popularity Can't Buy Life

Little did he know that he was the one who got once more lonely nights to spend now that the thesis is done. Nothing to do, no reason to stay up late in the study room, no where to go but home after the library's closed, but there's no one home to go back to. There're times that I love it, and there're times that I loathe it, but I pass through them one by one on my own all the time.

Reasons why I don't call people whose numbers I have in my cell when I'm caught in the mood is always the same: I don't feel like being funny, I don't like big noisy music nor smoke. I just want someone who can sit with me without words, without looking for a topic, nor excitements.