some thoughts

review on brick the film

I liked the film the first time.  I do not know why.  so I watched it the second time yesterday.  i still don't know the reason.  I find it comical throughout, since the content is usually performed by older guys in societal setting.  It was all performed by high school students...  it's kind ridiculous.  But at the same time, the characters were interesting, the plot engaging, and the performance was really good.  The mystery was kind lost in the middle, for i already watched it before.  But the atmosphere surrounds the circumstance was still thrilling. 

One thing though.  The words spoken here, was kind hard to follow.  They were so fast, and many might be slang, that I needed to rewind a few times just to read the captions. 

I still could not find out the reason why I liked it.

--------------------

a coffee in berlin

i did not care too much about the film.  it's a day in berlin, the young protagonist could find a coffee through out the day.  It's a sad day for him, maybe.  Or maybe his day was like this for quite a while now.  I'd compare this film to nebraska.  but it did not give me a wonder at the end like nebraska.  I could not get something out of it without that last note. 


-------------------

Am I looking for something superior in my writing?  No, not really.  But it is true that whenever I want to write something I'd call real, I'd stop writing.  There is hesitation, which is enough for me to stop all the thoughts and words.  Sometimes I felt childish.  Sometimes I felt embarrassed, even no one is reading it.  My dad used to say he'll do what he liked to do, rather than following other people's path.  I don't know why that sentence cut into my thought.  But there's another thing that came in my mind as well.  I chose to write down my father's words, but no my mom's.  I asked my mom once, not once, but many times.  why did she not write down something about the past.  She replied, why?  The past is past.  I felt that she voiced many complaints about the past.  She could not put those things into words simply.  There must be good, there must be  bad.  The words is hard to do justice to those things.  When my mom complained past, my uncle would always argue her point.  It was weird to see these two argue about the same objective thing. 

If I felt something injured me, I'd cry afoul.  If I want something, my mind went blank.  Like it's something to be embarrassed about.  I felt disgusted at something, or someone, What if I felt disgusted about my dislike at earlier moment?  Man, that's too  bad.  I felt that way, feeling can't be changed.  no?  Or maybe we could hide it?  Yes, hide it.  What if I confront it?  What kind of standard should I use to judge it?   Should I consider all the subjective and objective, inside and outside influence?  Or am I to make that call? 

I want.  Such indecisive phrase.