Shame on me!

Today I have several reasons to feel ashamed.

First of all, because I spent my whole weekend doing pretty much nothing apart from eating and thinking about this new guy. Now, this is shameful because the guy is obviously not interested and because I am bathing in comfort food thanks to my disappointment and my lack of sleep through an awful last week.

Second, because I am falling into my old habit of getting depressed... ruining my grades... behaving like an idiot... bitching whenever I am well enough to speak and doing nothing. I just think about stupidities; almost never leave home and make ridiculous plans for moments to come.

Third, because I spent hours wondering why  I'm alone now, where are my friends, why I cannot find a motivation why I'm not going nuts over the things I love as I usually am. Where does it come from this need to feel pain? to mess up the things which really matter for me? this crave to hide from the world?

Today I was supposed to give an essay for my "Heidegger" class. I read the texts. I had the topic and what did I do? Oh, little old moi sat in front of the computer and got to think the whole f***ing morning! I did not go to college, I barely moved from my chair and I was not even surfing on the net. I felt like a zombie. The only two things which gave me a kick were a movie and my cousin begging me to go to his speech at the congress. Speech to which I accepted to go since Saturday; actually, I even did editing work on it. Nevertheless, today it seemed completely trivial to go to my cousins speech! I love my cousin we are like siblings and this was important for him! After he and a mutual friend called me I felt horrible for not going. I found myself in front of the mirror (without having even taking a bath at 4pm) wondering: what the hell is wrong me? Finally, after a lot of dragging myself around the house I was ready to go. I arrived 30 minutes late after being forced to pay way too much money for a cab so I could arrived and see my lovely cousin and my friend.

The movie I mention before was: "The spirit". I had not seen it but finally,a friend who loves comics bought it and borrow it to me so I could watch it. He, in agreement with the critic, said it was crap. He warned me over the phone that he could only stand it for 30 minutes or so because then he was so annoyed that he placed the dvd in its box and never gave it a second look until I asked if he had finally watch it.

I watched it in two sections, 1 hour before going to my cousins debut and the rest when I got back.

Fortunately or unfortunately I do not know the comic. My only comic references are some batman issues (I totally loved The Long Halloween ones), some Spiderman issues,  a little of Civil War and some X-men. However, I had hopes for this movie since Frank Miller was in charge. I liked the movie. I did not like the story too much... but I fell for the image. I enjoyed the way it all looked like watching a play at the theater mixed with photoshop cuts out. I loved the atmosphere the scenography and the light were able to create and, the cat was just way to cute for me to resist (lol).

Now I am thinking that I'm safe being in love only with images, with colored dreams, with those enchanted shapes and words that inhabit a pencil.

When your lips were red: I had everything and the rain was merely an apathetic literary mood.

When your lips were red, I could see through them: secret messages and smelled the scent of morning coffee.

When your lips were red: there were no lonely twilights or artificial smiles.

When your lips were red, I was writing the first happy chapter of this book and, now the pages seem lonely.

Your lips are not red anymore. Smoky gray took the place of that bright color and I am all too human for its desperation.