Log in

No account? Create an account


Raised by Wolves

Gaki: writing myself Real

Previous Entry Share Next Entry


To Annette's vast amusement, I apparently cannot leave the house for five minutes without getting into trouble. I never expected to get jumped at the beach, I've walked it at night a million times. I should count my blessings; against five-on-one odds, I'm lucky to have escaped with only a bloodied nose and a bruised ego. Really, I can get into shit just by walking around. You'd be amazed. I ran, though, no Oldboy-style badass am I.

Ah, Oldboy. That was just a mindbending, lovable monster of a story, one that will merrily scamper up to you and playfully lick your hand before biting it off. At the shoulder. I owe props to fuseji for mentioning it. Like many of the movies that I enjoy, it's an "Either you buy the final explanation or you don't" affair, but I really don't have a problem with that. It's good to see a film with some guts. The cinematography and shot composition are thought-provoking, vaulting it over the "flick" category and into "film" caliber.

And I liked the story itself, which is a sort of karmic fairy tale noir. It swirls up the blacks and whites, if you're the introspective sort, leaving you to wonder which things you believe in that other people find hideously, insupportably wrong, and vice-versa.

I wonder what would happen to me, if you locked me in a room for 15 years?

I'm not a loner in the sense that I don't enjoy human company. It's just that oftentimes whenever I'm hanging out with people whose company I actually enjoy, my stupidly binary brain begins subtly turning situations around until I feel like my own company isn't enjoyable. When I'm entertained, I feel less entertaining. When someone succeeds, I feel less capable. When someone goes out of their way to appreciate me, I feel pitied instead. When someone cracks a joke, I feel unfunny. When someone says something intelligent, I feel stupid. I'm aware that this is a patently ridiculous way to look at the world, but like any mood that settles on me, I'm damned if I know how to fix it. I am a Frankenstein of envy, and the grass is always greener over there by the torchbearing mob. Approach, then flee.

Shortly before my run in with the junior thug crew, I was talking with an older lady with the sunniest smile amidst warm earth-toned features. "Smokers unite!" she hailed me from down the street. "We'll start a political party," she grinned, eliciting a smile in response from me as I assured her she had my vote. She surprised me by pegging me right away as part Filipino, which not everyone can do; my features are a pretty confusing mix. She really cheered me up. I like seeking happy old smokers, because they've been there and done that and are still kicking. They resonate with a wiser joy and cynicism than younger folk are able to summon. Her name, which she has been spelling American-style as Emily, is actually Amali, which means Hope. And for this lesson, I thanked her.

About 25 minutes later, bleeding all over myself and staggering home from shadow to shadow, I realized that I'm really getting older. Because I was sincerely, truly glad that I'd left all my blades and other crap at home. I have really bad nightmares sometimes, and really fucked-up daydreams, and sometimes I worry that there is more badness in me than is healthy, and that maybe I should stay away from people. But if I'm still capable of looking at someone who wishes me harm, and wishing them none in return, than my soul is healthier than I thought it was. And that is truly a hopeful thing.


In other news, I think my secondary hard drive just died, right out of the blue. Weeeeeeeeak.

On the plus side, nearly four months of unemployment are coming to a close. I try to get out of the game world, but they keep pulling me back in. Starting Wednesday I'm once more a tester, at Lucasarts' new Presidio facility. Permanent gig, benefits and all. I feel good about it in a sort of distracted way. I feel ambivalent about everything lately. But clearly all I do with more time at my disposal is sleep more, so say hello to crunch mode, and let's see how much more interesting sleep deprivation makes me.


  • 1
Fucking hell! Are you going to be okay? Anything broken?

Call the cops?


Unfortunately, there isn't much the cops can do in this type of case; if I waste an hour of their time with my adrenalin-addled descriptions, all that can really happen is that they will have to add "hassle gang-looking kids" to their list of things to do. Since I've been on that side of the coin, too, harassed by cops while minding my own damn business, I don't really want to add fuel to that fire. In the interest of others' safety, they should have a leash on, but they didn't seem local to me.

My schnozz is a bit swollen today, but I don't think it's broken (and if it was, there's not much to be done but tape the sucker anyway, eh?) So I'm just fine, but you're sweet for asking.

"Can a single viewing of Oldboy be put to use in a fight?"

"...it can't."

Funnily enough, I've been thinking of you -- I'm working on a journal entry I wanted to quote you in.

And so, despite the double serving of shit the world's poured on your platter (my laptop's dying, too, and I think I cursed my friend's computer over the weekend by accident), I am overjoyed that I have another Evergreen Old Boy to talk with. Swear to God, that movie was Korean \i{Shakespeare}, and Lee Woo-Jin is the single most evil human being to ever grace celluloid. Fuck Lex Luthor -- if Lee were to focus on Superman, Kal-El would be carving his X-Ray eyes out of his own skull with a Kryptonite shiv after he'd been tricked into fucking Supergirl.

Furthermore, I am willing to go on record as saying the one-take shot in the hallway with the hammer is probably the best fight scene in the last five years, and that INCLUDES Ong-Bak. God, I can't wait until it comes out on DVD here.

It's also super-rad that you're going to be at LucasArts. I would ask you to find the nearest person in charge for me once you step in the door and shake them while screaming "WHY THE FUCK DID YOU CANCEL FULL THROTTLE AND SAM & MAX, YOU FUCKING HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN CUMSTAINS", but that's a tough first impression to overcome.

Why'd you lock fuseji up, you...dick-shit?

Re: "Can a single viewing of Oldboy be put to use in a fight?"

I cracked the fuck up at that subject line...! I can't wait to for it come out either as, well, it was on the D: drive. T_T

Furthermore, I am willing to go on record as saying the one-take shot in the hallway with the hammer is probably the best fight scene in the last five years, and that INCLUDES Ong-Bak.

My sentiments precisely. It was beautifully realistic-seeming, both in the way the shot was executed, and in the style of just straight-up dirty street brawling they used. I saw Shiri some weeks later, in which Choi Min-Sik is also featured prominently, and I kept hoping for that hammer to come back out. Hoping in vain. (Shiri is okay, but sadly the best action sequence in the whole movie is the first five minutes).

Heh, I'll have to watch my step at work for a bit. If I remember correctly, the guy in charge of the department now doesn't like people swearing. ^_^; As an incorrigible potty-mouth, this poses a significant challenge already.

TV Man Knows It All.

Even though the only all-region player I have access to is on my laptop, I must own the Oldboy Region 3 special edition. The thing comes in the big purple gift box that Lee Woo-jin used, and plays the little melody from the movie every time it's opened.

Good to know about Shiri -- I'll keep an eye out for that.

"LiveJournal is both a clock and a calendar. It's your school, your home, your church, your frien ... and your lover."

But fuseji's lover's song is too short.

Glad you're still alive and able to take some sort of moral high ground to find refuge in. It's an experience that should live on in some way (written, please...pretty please.) to make it timelessly haunting.

I suppose if you did report it to the police, you could always give a description of some straight laced Catholic Schoolboys and mess with the minds of the local police force for some time. Not to mention lighting a fire under alot of nuns...heh. Fire. Heh.

*Ahem*Anyways,...yay on the job thingie. Though it sucks that I couldn't squeeze anything outta ya while you were on your career-hiatus. Ah well.

Meanwhile, be gentle with the schnozz. Avoid any Eskimo women. :)

Avoid any Eskimo women.

Serendipitously, mere hours earlier, over a sushi dinner with sloe djinn:
fulldamage: "I dig cold weather. And I really dig fish. Man, I could totally date an Eskimo girl."


Anyway, there's no "refuge" to take from getting your ass beat, really! XD But weirdly, I sort of did feel good about a lot of things afterwards. It's hard for me to explain.

Certainly, the moments and sensations involved will surface in things I write. But writing about the event itself, well, what can I say? It wasn't an exciting fight, it was banal. My life doesn't make for good copy. It would have been a background event in a much cooler action movie, ne?

I think it could make a whole movie. The art of film is to take the Banal and make it glare.

The lights of hollywood make things either prettier or more horrifying.

I know you are alright now but...damn boy be careful!!!

I got the signal from reading a.net's journal that you got bullring'd and though am happy you left your silver at home, kinda wished you had something. But then again, like mentioned, 5 vs 1 doesnt give the best odds of survival and all they needed was one -more- excuse.

Take care du'. I haven't achieved the right to walk around kicking ass just yet. Things take time yah know =\

Aww, thanks for the well-wishing. It's truly appreciated. I do* need to be more careful. I probably should have booked for the street the instant I knew I was being tailed, but sometimes I am just too stupid and stubborn to do anything but let trouble find me. Bloody good thing about my mutant healing factor...

Hmm. That gives me a story idea, actually. Hmm, hmm. Pondering ahoy! ^_^

  • 1