Forgotten

I have forgotten about my blog. I have nothing to write, actually. I have run out of topics, and I’ve been boring and annoying myself lately. Maybe that explains the lack of creative nerve cells running in my head. But, there never were anyway.

I can only use my television and DVD player during weekends when my roommates go home to their hometowns. So these past weekends, I have been doing movie marathons and sadly waking up early because of work. Last night, I watched The Dreamers by Bernardo Bertolucci (Stealing Beauty, Last Tango in Paris). It clearly became one of my favorite films. I was engrossed by the whole mystery (thriller) of the film that even the explicit scenes, I no longer mind. I like how the director weaves old films to parallel with the happenings in the story; I especially liked the rolling-over-to-the-river-type suicide coinciding with Isabelle trying to suffocate her and her sleeping buddies with the gas. The acting was great and it reminded me of Y Tu Mama Tambien, and other “threesome” films.

Last week, I watched another twisted French film filled with fascinating and unsettling views on incest, homosexuality, bondage, rodentophobia, dysfunctional families. Sitcom is a film by the young director, Francois Ozon (Swimming Pool, 8 Women) which tells how a family was controlled by the coming of a pet rat, and how the mother always talks things out much like what happens in sitcoms. It’s very, very black; you might need the lights turned on. Hey, that was racist!

The other films are too boring I even forgot their titles. I love weekends. I love French films. I want to go to Paris right now.

BTW: I am writing this short story slash novel (since it took me a great deal of time to finish it, I’m not even halfway) for a friend which is supposedly subtly based on her, but then it was almost her, I might need to let her sign a waiver or something.