Really feelin this...Nora Jones

A must see for me!

This story just looks like my kind of thing..somewhere a cross between The Interview With A Vampire and Blood and Chocolate...but this is just my assumption. I can't wait to see it :D

Hopefully it will be waaaaay better than Lakeview Terrace...which i wrongly thought was going to be a thrill...yea some thriller..Samuel Jackson dear, you disappointed me :( My consolation was Quantum of Solace which i saw on Friday (yay!) and it was hella great ..yes even though I had never seen any previous James Bond movie!

I've still got to see Taken...though I'm not sure what to expect...As for upcoming movies.. Seven Pounds, Bolt, Marley and Me...but before all that>> "Me gusta mueve mueve! Me gusta mueve mueve, me gusta........MUEVE!"

Sandwiched

I am burnt bread. Remember the saying that "You are what you eat"? Well, I am burnt bread. I am cheesed, tomatoed, peppered and sliced or halved..whichever.

Or am I the tomato smothered between cheese and bits of pepper, swallowed with pieces of burnt oh so burnt bread...I wonder which?

I made this sandwich oh, not because I want to eat it, but because I felt like making it, so now i have to eat it. I don't like to waste it or give it to someone else, I would like to taste it. Simply because I have made it, because it is mine, my art, my peace and strangely because it is me. What will you do huh? It is simply life!

Now I am going to eat it, taste it, cherish it, savour it. It will be cold, but i will heat it in the microwave and it's cheese will melt...It will melt for me.

I am going to take a bite, my first bite and chew it slowly...as slowly as can be.. I will count the number of times I have chewed it. Bite one, two , three, four bites, I forgot to count and unconsciously swallowed. Fourteen more slowly, I feel it's juice, it's hotness, it's texture, it's pepper in the aftermath.

Bite two, fourteen chews and i feel the crunch of it's burnt parts, it's juice, it's soft wetness, it's mushiness, I suck it in, it tastes great, the pepper and it sticks in my teeth.

I smell it, bite three. One to eighteen, I swallow, I crunch the tomato, yes and more tomato, taste the cheese, nineteen to twenty-four and another swallow. Still the pepper. A sniff of the nose. It burns.

Bite four. I smell toast, I bite, one, two , three, i hear the bite. Twenty-nine chews, more tomato, more pepper. As I eat, the more I want it, and I want to eat it in a hurry. I am not hungry, but I love it's taste. I will take a sip of tea and finish it off.

I am impatient. I can't bear the waiting. I burp...what does that mean? Does it mean that I was hungry after all? I will eat. Sip one, sip two.

I take deep breaths, I can't breathe very well. I will fix my hair and get ready to eat. I now feel like I am forced, compelled to eat because I have made it. I am the one who has made this great mess of a sandwich. I am what I eat.

By the time I finished my sandwich and re-read this, thinking about myself as this sandwich, I realized this...with two sips of tea and half the burnt sandwich, I already feel bloated.

I don't want it anymore but I still eat it and finish it off. There I am done. (Thank God!) What a task...and all because I wanted to make something. (Greediness!) Next time I'll just write about it. (Yeah right!)

The Bloody Child

I was drained and battered,

Poor soul torn and shattered

As I stepped back to look

At the acidic world in front.

I gasped in awe,

At the beautifully coloured face

That sat staring back at me;

Showing me in the heart,

That colours can decieve the eye.

This time,the tramp that followed my mind

Looked into the swollen face,

And saw what he did not see before-

A child, stark and naked,

Drenched in wineline blood,

A never fading smile, that pressed

To kiss the jagged blade of a silver sword.

I stared in disbelief,

As the child without hesitation,

Plunged the sword within her heart,

Ripped it apart

And ate of it.

I screamed, ice-cold horror,

As i gripped myhead

And dropped to my knees.

I asked the child "Why?"

She grinned seductively,

And said drily,

"Because it is bitter, bitter my friend

And because it is my heart."

She then spat the colour blue,

And suddenly the rest was made blue.

Her eyes shedding blood tears,

Dropped to the ground in a mess of green.

I looked on aghast at what my world had become,

I thought cynically,

How could the face not decieve me?

The colours are too beautiful to resist.

So I look into the face,

And say in words that don't exist,

That i see the devil

Smiling up at me.