I’m writing this at 9:22 in the morning. Why? Well I’ve just been procrastinating so much on writing. I fell behind. Anyway. . .What happened yesterday?
Well I got up at 11. I had some breakfast, did my makeup (cut crease, it looked nice) and went to clean the terrace. I had pizza. Then Dad gave me the money for the cinema. I put that goddamn cream that makes it my skin itch on my back, depilated my legs and showered. Painted my nails while listening to music, studied Chemistry. It was, sort of, in vain, but at least I can say that I studied. That’s pretty much all I have lately. Just “sort of studying” and not understanding anything. Then at 6:30 I went to make some shortbread dough for a tart which my Mum will be making today. I put it in the fridge. It turned out alright. Left for the cinema at 6:55. I met up with Brandon at the square. We bought the tickets and went to stroll around the park. We sat on this merry-go-round and started spinning. We laughed at stupid things and looked crazy to the people passing by. I felt nauseous. Then this child talking nonsense approached us. At one point, he said: “Death, death, grandpa John, granny Mary.” Diary, my grandpa’s name is John.
The movie was, to say the least, bad. It was about an island of gigantic animals that are “demons” and this huge gorilla who is the only one left of his species so he has to defeat all of the other gigantic animals. You know a movie is bad when you see a guy drinking water, then his whole body getting penetrated through his mouth by a leg of a gigantic spider. What type of person thinks to himself/herself: “I should write s movie that makes no fucking sense and that nobody but nine-year-olds will like?” and then sits at his/her computer and just starts writing? What does typing “gorilla – appears – with its prominent manly features and strong arms and with one had only, he crushes three helicopters at a time. He is that protective of his island” feel like? When we left the cinema, it was very cold outside. I walked with him (Brandon, not the gorilla, not the movie director) for 5 minutes and then we split. When I got home, I changed the linen on my bed, washed my face, brushed my teeth and went to bed.
I cannot get Violet’s notion that “the show (she meant the theatre show of Crime and Punishment that we saw on the 17th) lacked in the forensics department” out of my head. Did she want Crime and Punishment to be turned into a bloody CSI: Miami episode? Only a lunatic would want that.