Forgetfulness and other vices

Today in literature class, I had this great idea for a blog and by the time I got home, lit up the computer and opened Blogspot, I had forgotten all about what I wanted to write about. So, by bravely continuing to write this blog, I'm hoping it'll kickstart some lapsed wire in my brain and bring back that thing that I wanted to write, but forgot. Here goes nothing!

The first thing that pops into my head (since I presume this blog is going to have a somewhat stream of consciousness feel to it) is the dance scene from Another Cinderella Story. I bet I can guess what your first thoughts were when you read that: 'Oh my god, isn't that a chick-flick?', 'Is it the sequel to that sucky/awesome movie with Hilary Duff and Chad Michael Murray?' and maybe someone even thought 'Yeah, I loved that scene too!' But regardless of your personal preference, I liked this scene because of the way it was shot. The mirror, acting as a physical divide between two people who are so very meant for each other (in typical Hollywood fashion, aka lots of drama ending in happy climax). This is also a very good scene to portray the chemistry between the two characters. Plus, Selena Gomez doesn't look like a twelve-year old for four minutes... Which, I have to say, is quite the accomplishment.

After this small detour to fairy tales, I still haven't got any closer to what I wanted to tell you. So I guess we're moving on to subject numero dos which has absolutely nothing to do with the real matter... Today was the day it struck me how many people are struggling in their relationships. Break-ups, make-ups, hook-ups and all the other 'ups' people can have.

I'm starting to think that the contemporary notion of relationships has permanently shifted towards a constant state of ambiguity. People are often surprised to learn someone else shows an interest in them that transcends the 'friendship' level while others who thought they had already won the 'Happily Ever After' gameshow end up falling flat on their asses. Bewilderment and entanglement all around. It makes you wonder just how the dating scene is going to look like in twenty years. After the War, marriage was considered the reward for having conquered the Evil Adolf and his fiendish Army of Doom. When a man and a woman got married, their union was expected to last a lifetime and their kids in turn would live the same (American?) dream. But now, more than half a century later, it all got so messed up.

In a way, lovelives back then were much easier, albeit probably unhappier. If we look at relationships now, we don't talk about just two people anymore. We talk about them, their friends, their families, their past boy/girlfriends, their sexual experiences, their personalities, their hair colour and what not. But exactly how relevant is that information? Does being a brunette or a blonde garantee a successful marriage? Does having had seven prior sexual encounters prove you're Mr Right? Or does it just mean you're a great Mr Right Now? And if so, where are Mr and Mrs Happily Ever After?

The whole relationship scene has become a veritable battleground with all sorts of torturous traps and devices, but that doesn't mean we can't still enjoy whatever Fate throws our way. Did Peggy Lee have it right? Do we love the way people break our hearts? Is it terribly, terribly, terribly true?

Hmm, I guess I still haven't quite found the trigger yet. But it seems I've run out of time. I have a million things to do before I start my videoproject for school, leave for Louvain tonight and see my niece tomorrow. Ain't life grand? 

"What's Tibetan for RPG?"

In lieu of being stuck between pondering the meaning of life and soaking up literary knowledge for school, I choose a third possible activity for today: hugging my favourite console in this house. I know I just did a piece on BioShock yesterday, but the moral of that story was the whole hyperlink think, so I'm completely justified talking about another one of my prized possessions: Uncharted 2: Among Thieves!

This game has won numerous awards last year and has also captured a place in my heart as one of the most exhilirating games of the past few years. Earlier, in 2007, Naughty Dog put forth Uncharted: Drake's Fortune as their flagship in the line-up for the PS3 release list. Although this first game certainly is a gem, its sequel is comparatively the Hope Diamond. In my opinion, the first game felt too action oriented and limited in its degree of exploration. There just wasn't enough diversity in the different environmens, seeing as how ninety percent of the game took place on an island -which is quite limited in its climate conditions and offers little changes of scenery. So I'll be focussing my attention to Naughty Dog's pride and joy: Among Thieves.

From the very first moment you press the 'start' button and watch that intro movie, you feel like you're watching an actual movie. The wrecked train alone features a buttload of details and then I'm not even talking about the polygon count that has gone into Nathan's body and face! The whole scene is oozing with eye candy -not to mention a lot of Nate's blood- and you can't help but become completely submerged in the world according to Nathan Drake, explorer and daredevil.

Feel the love...

By having a protagonist like Nathan Drake,  there is no point in trying to resist his charm offensive, you'll fail. Trust me on this one. He makes jumping out of a tumbling building and crashing through the window of the adjacent one look like kid's stuff and still has the time for a whole array of slick one-liners and sarcastic remarks. This is the stuff that Hollywood dreams of! It should come as no surprise then, that a film adaptation is already in the works. And since no main character comes without a romantic interest (or two), Nathan is accompanied by new girl Chloe Frazer and last year's girl Elena Fisher, both are quite the eye catchers. Although at times, Chloe's bright blue eyes come off as bit frightening, but once you divert your goggles to her more appealing assets, all is well again.

My favourite level has to be the one set in the besieged Nepal. There is just so much going on in that scene! Civil war has never looked so goddamn beautiful! At some point, while making my way across the ravaged city, I fell through the floor of a roof (you can actually see each tile fall apart one by one) and landed in a small, but unbelievably detailed room. While looking frantically for a way out, I turned my attention to the window and saw little specs of dust floating in the ray of sunlight. If that doesn't scream next-gen, then I don't know what does!



Uncharted 2 is paramount when it comes to the action-adventure genre. Games such as Assassin's Creed or Devil May Cry also offer an enjoyable gaming experience, but they come nowhere near as close to a cinematic experience like Uncharted does. Feel free to disagree with me on this one, but mind you, don't knock it, until you've tried it!

Nuaghty Dog has delivered us the Holy Grail of its genre and I can't wait to see what the third installment will bring and how they'll incorporate the Game Engine 2.0 to revitalize the Jak & Daxter series!



God bless the Hyperlink

It was high time to reconnect my beloved black console with her long lost friend, the World Wide Web. Like clockwerk, the screen faded to black and an automated message informed me that an update was available. As my black box was buzzing with exitement, I decided to peruse the Playstation Store.

It amazed me how much this glorified online webshop had grown and expanded. At first, it was hard to find my way around the PS3 Content, PS3+ Content, PSP, and all those other joyous acronyms. But once I saw the name 'BioShock' light up my 52inch screen, I knew I had arrived at my destination.

The awe-inspiring sight of the Big Daddy -or Subject Delta, depending on which BioShock game enjoys your preference- invoked all sorts of delicious imagery across my retinas. I was reminded of the Little Sisters I had adopted, forced to gather ADAM and subsequently rescued by removing the slug from their bodies. I could see myself drilling my way through yet another ADAM-infused, crazed Splicer who thought he could beat me. And of course, how could I forget, those first moments when the bathysphere opens and you emerge in the disturbingly beautiful world that is Rapture.

Indeed, BioShock has had a tremendous influence on me since the day I bought the PC version. I dare say 2K has made the most influential and innovating game of the last decade. Of course, some of you will disagree with me, and I grant you your diverging opinions, but to me, Rapture and its eery beauty will always prevail over the next Tomb Raider installment or Call of Duty war epic. And it's not just the haunted Art Deco style and Rapture's intriguing population that won me over, but the whole story behind this underwater dream-turned-nightmare.

When I think of all the times Wikipedia has been the five-course meal to my hunger for knowledge, I can't even begin to imagine a pre-Wikipedia life. Naturally, I had to look BioShock up on this glorious encyclopedia infinitus and I found myself unable to stop clicking those eye-catching blue words.

First, I looked at 'alternate history' and immersed myself in these works of fiction that took pride in discussing the question "What if ...?" From there, I jumped to the section involving time travel (what did you expect?), jumped back to 'alternate history' and then to 'video games', which included the Resistance and Fallout series. Finding myself too far off from my little submerged Valhalla, I leapt back to Rapture and came across the name Ayn Rand. Rand was a Russian-American writer who acted as a source of inspiration for 2K's masterpiece. Her work of fiction entitled 'Atlas Shrugged' has now made it to my Top Five Book 2 Buy.

I think this shows just how immersed and omniscient the Internet has become. Knowledge can be consumed with the mere touch of a button, links are made instanteously and the best part is that you don't have to do a damned thing. Everything is right there in plain sight, awaiting your every move.

I might be jumping the gun here, but I think that in about three or four decades, the Internet will render scholastic education obsolete. Teachers can talk all they want, but who wants to listen to the sleep-inducing nagging of a dissatisfied fifty year old, when you can just as well learn all about it in the comfort of your voice-controlled, holographic computer screen? With Dolby Digital Surround Sound, of course.

You got a good thing coming

There are moments in life when all you can do is be deliriously happy because of the way everything starts to come together. Today was such a day.

I started at 10 in the morning when the booksale at our school actually had two out of the three books I needed. That's like a 66.67% success rate! A milestone, if I say so myself!

The second good thing occured three hours later when my former English teacher invited me to participate in a video for her research project. Who was I to say 'No', right? The whole thing is still hush-hush, so I can't really elaborate on the specifics, but I can tell you that there's a good chance this thing's going to go national if the research adds up.

And my third and most joyous moment happened approximately one hour ago when I opened my Inbox. Last Friday I answered a vacancy in a youngster's magazine. I added a copy of the articles I wrote for 'Den Hub', our school news paper which never saw the light of day and I wrote a little motivational speech detailing why I applied for the job.

Monday passed. Tuesday passed. Wednesday passed. I started to think CJP-magazine wasn't going to work out for me after all. That is, until I looked at my mailbox and I saw an email from CJP. My heart skipped a beat as I opened it. The second line of the mail contained all I could ever hope for: an opening in the Game section of the magazine!

I thought I was going to lose it. Here it was. Actual proof of a future in journalism. No longer the hope of turning my portfolio into a work of fiction or the distant dream of becoming a writer, but solid, viable proof that someone out there was interested in what I had to offer. I immediately responded and as of now, am reveling in the prospect of turning in my first real article. I'm definitely keeping you posted on further developments!

Then, when I thought I was done for the day, that I'd used up all of my lucky cards, a friend asked me to bartend Saturday night. How could I refuse such a thing after all the good things that happened today? Surely, I wasn't going to test Lady Luck's patience today of all days!

Signing off now, hope you all had a great Thursday too! Talk to you guys again soon!

Beyond right and wrong

Rules. Put in place by the powers that be. Put there to help guide us towards what society feels is right. Then why do we find breaking them so much more satisfactory than following them? Have the rules lost their relevance? Or have we lost our sense of right and wrong?

In life, there are certain things a person must never do. Killing another person is an extreme example of this, but others include: stealing something, telling a lie, disobeying your parents or cheating on your loved one. The truth is, there is an encyclopedia worth of things you shouldn't do. Still, each and every one of us has broken one of these rules at one point or another. But what exactly tempts us to do such a wreckless act?

Are we just simple branches getting swept away by the powerful gusts of wind or do we bend, but not break? And if we break, does that mean we're weak?

I'm not the spokesperson for morality and obediance, so I'm not going to start preaching about what is right and wrong, because essentially, that distinction is highly subjective. To one person, kissing is a form of cheating. Stealing food because you'll otherwise starve isn't considered stealing to another. If we must draw a line between right and wrong and good and evil, surely, it must be in our heads. It must be a mental divide that keeps us in check.

No matter how hard society lays down the rules, there will always be those eager to break them. That is the paradox of rules: there needs to be chaos before order can be imposed.

But if rules are always broken, can there ever be peace? Does such a thing exist? For the better part of your reasoning, peace will always be found in personal justifications. Your own version of sugarcoating the truth.

It seems that the majority of morals are locked within the confines of our minds. Good, as well as evil, is what me make of it. We reshape the two in order to fit our needs, not the other way around. Perhaps therein lies the danger, because how do we know for sure that what we've done is purely altruistic and not selfish when we're the ones making the rules?

How can we be sure we're doing the right thing?

A sucker for happy endings

The story of Cinderella: young girl turned houseslave by evil stepmom and dito step-sisters is aided by her fairy godmother into going to the ball. Here our enchanted little slave meets her Prince Charming. Cue the spotlight dance, the almost-kiss, the race against time and the grand finale that culminates in the marital bliss of Cindy and Prince. Cut. Print it. Walt Disney's got the happy endings down to an art.


I confess: I myself am a sucker for happy endings. I mean come on, secretly, we were all rooting for Romeo and Juliet to hop on the first horse drawn carriage out of Verona and into the sunset where they'd live happily ever after, weren't we?

This morning I saw 'The Bodyguard' with Kevin Costner and Whitney -IHIIIAAA will always looooove yooouuu- Houston. Even though I never saw the movie before I could vividly remember this profoundly sad ending where the bodyguard takes a bullet for the diva and dies on stage. To me, this would've made the most sense, what's more, this was how it should've ended.

Essentially director Mick Jackson had three possible endings: the bad (but actually best) ending: Costner dies in the arms of Whitney, leaving her with the inspiration for singing "I will always love you", face it, audiences love the whole good-guy-dies ending (Titanic, anyone?). The good (sorta) ending: Costner lives and he and Whitney live happily ever after. And finally, the neutral (aka sucky) ending: Costner survives the two bullets to the chest and continues to work as a bodyguard (for a priest!), while Whitney carries on with her singing career. Result: everybody loses.

Now, hypothetically speaking, if you were the director of this movie, which ending would you choose? The bad -but really, best of all- ending, right? I knew it! Well, 'fraid old man Jackson got his endings screwed up, because he chose the neutral ending. Result: everybody loses plus the movie receives a 5.5 score out of 10 on IMDb.

Surprised? I think not. Guess Jackson should've followed Disney's lead. Maybe if he had, Whitney would've had a great career, instead of  a great high from all the coke that followed. But to each his own, ay?

The minor league

Alexander The Great.

Charles Darwin.

Aristotle.

Caesar Augustus.

Mahatma Gandhi.

Che Guevara

Marie Curie.

William Shakespeare.

George Washington.

Plato.

Achilles.

Adolf Hitler.

Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

Margaret Thatcher.

Elizabeth Tudor.

...

When you look at human history, you'll see that certain figures found a way to escape being swept away by the sands of time and became immortal in the minds of all future men. Odds against them, being just tiny specs in the multitude of humanity, they did something so profound and noteworthy with their lives that they earned their place in the books of history, instead of just becoming part of a collective noun.

It makes you wonder how any of us can ever hope to achieve that kind of greatness, to earn the right to be remembered, not just by your loved ones. It makes us wonder about how deeply a single person's life can affect the course of history.

If Alexander The Great had never lived, what would've happened to all the Greek city-states that he united under one glorious empire? Would they have fallen apart or would someone else have risen up in Alexander's place? And if Elizabeth Tudor had been denied the English throne, would England have still won against the Spanish Armada in 1588? Would England have become the superpower it is today, or would Spain have emerged victorious?

When I flick through a history book, I sometimes get the feeling that nothing I will ever do will be good enough to land me a place between the pages of the great men and women of history. It feels as though all those people are playing in the Majors, while I'm still in the Minor Leagues, waiting for my big break that may or may not happen.

I always fantasized about writing this book that would change the world. It would make me immortal as a writer and countless of people would be inspired by my words and I'll have earned my place among history's Hall of Fame.

These are just child's dreams, but I like to think that, in some way, this pushes me to be the best version that I can be. It makes me want to succeed even more in life, even if it is just to earn a byline in some book. I guess all I'm looking for is a way to be remembered long after everyone who knew me has gone as well. You might think this foolish and unattainable, but if writing a sonnet like Shakespeare is enough to achieve greatness, I might just start writing poetry or the next tragic lovestory.

I feel this way because I don't believe in the afterlife. I don't believe in Heaven or Hell. But I do believe that one can live on through the memories of others. The mere fact that, when I look at a movie like 'The Motorcycle Diaries', it makes me think of Ernesto Guevara and the road he took in life, a road that led him to fame, or infamy, depending on your POV. It makes me think about him as an actual person who lived just four decades ago. That makes my own journey a whole lot easier, knowing if he could do it, I too could have the potential to do something like that.

These people were like us. Ordinary human beings who decided to do something extraordinary with their lives. Whether it was through sacrifice or the refusal to bow down to an authority, they made their mark. Their actions echoing throughout the years, throughout the lives of others.

This seems like a good way to be remembered, not just for the person you were, but for the things you did. The lives you changed or will change. The people you loved and who, in turn, loved you back. The fact that no person ever really dies, they simply live on through others. In memories, in genes, in characteristics, in career choices or even as simple as the colour of someone's eyes.

A great way to go from the Minors to the Majors, all the way to infinity if you ask me.

The psychic apparatus

After watching yet another scintillating episode of Sex and the City, I started thinking about secret desires and how our world seems to be filled with them.

From babies to seniors, we all have these secrets desires that consume our every thought. Some are primal, others are new. But all of them share a specific need: the need to be fulfilled. Just how fast we decide to give in to them is up to us. We can either play it coy and wait until all of the pieces start to fall together or we can take action and force our dreams into reality.

These secret desires are what guides us subconsciously. We can try to fight them, but one way or another, these primordial needs get the better of us, if we let them.

For some these are harmless delights, such as the eating of a muffin or the purchase of yet another materialistic outburst. Others however, tend to have a more raw urge that cannot be found in any department store. These are the desires that can shape a person's character. The way that person perseveres or surrenders to it defines him.



A Streetcar Named Desire



Still, if we choose to succumb to what feels natural to us, does that make us a bad person, a selfish person even? And if we choose to ignore the incessant calls of our Id does that make us strong and pragmatic?

Superpowered

Yet another strike at De Lijn! Sometimes I do wonder what more they could have to strike about? Are they that discontent with their jobs? Because if that's the case, maybe they should seriously start to consider changing jobs. If not, I suggest they suck it up and get back behind the wheel. We all have problems at work, we all have concerns about our wages and our working conditions, but the thing is, when busdrivers go on strike, this doesn't just affect them, entire towns suffer at their hands. Hundreds of people can find themselves trapped, unable to go anywhere.

Take today for example, I was on my way to meet someone in Louvain who'd come a long way to see me. Imagine my frustration when a woman drives by, rolling down her side window and shouting the buses are on strike. So, there I was. Me and four other partners in misfortune, all desperately looking for a way out of this town. Sadly, because a few disgruntled employees feel they're being treated poorly, none of us could leave town, at least not without hitching, walking or teleporting. So thank you very much, De Lijn. Always a pleasure (not) riding with you.

Anyways, with no other way to leave home, I decided to go back and watch Push, a movie I'd rented yesterday.  I thought to myself: 'Hm, superhero movie? Could never hurt, right?' I mean, I'm a huge fan of the genre. Give me a Fantastic Four, Iron Man, Superman, Wanted or X-Men combo any day of the week. There's just something about the whole superpowers thing. The story revolves around Nick and Cassie. Nick is a Mover (telekinetic) and Cassie's a Watcher (precog). Both of them are in Hong Kong on the run from Division, a secret government agency responsible for creating these abilties. Both sides are looking for a briefcase which contains a syringe that greatly amplifies a person's ability. Your standard hero-on-the-run-from-the-bad-guys-and-searching-for-a-strange-object type of scenario. Nothing innovative, I can assure you. It still sounds pretty cool, though.

The first minutes of the movie seems promising enough. Dakota Fanning talks about how during World War II, Hitler was researching the paranormal in hopes of creating a race of supersoldiers. The abilities ranging from telekinesis to mind control. Very similar to the Stargate Project the Americans had. A program to perfect 'remote viewing', a way of looking across the world and seeing what the other person's doing. Fits perfectly in the whole Cold War context.

But it also makes you wonder whether or not it is possible to unlock the secrets of our human potential? After all, we only use 10% of our brain's capacity. Surely, there must be something more in this gray mass of ours?

Let's be honest here for a second, who wouldn't want to have superpowers? The ability to move objects with a mere blink of an eye? The means to alter the minds of others? A way to get from point A to point B nigh instantly? Or in my case, my prefered superpower would be time travel. The ability to control time itself. But I think you could've already guessed that with me, seeing as how obsessed I am with the notion of time.

Sometimes I think about how could it would be if superheroes actually did exist. Of course, that would also entail the existence of supervillains. But when you come to think of it, people like Bin Laden, Hitler, Stalin or any other baddy in history, they could be thought of  as villains. Sure, they don't have superpowers like Dr Doom or Magneto, but that doesn't make them any less villainous. Maybe this reality has its own subset of villains? Those who do great harm without actually having superpowers. However, if that's true, then where are today's superheroes? Do they have powers? Or wear costumes?

If there are so many villains in the world, there must be an equal amount of superheroes to balance things out, right? Or could it be that we have a little bit of both in us? The capacity to do both great evil and great good? The question remains then, where do we draw the line between serving ourselves and serving the common good?

Over there

I've thought about what to write for a while, seeing as how my previous post seemed a bit too hard to compete with, but I think I found something that I'm equally as passionate about.

In a few months, I'll have the opportunity to apply for studying a year abroad. A teacher of mine suggested going on Erasmus, saying it looks so good on a resume and it's also a great way to meet new people -he met his wife while away. Of course, his reasons aren't necessarily mine.

Should I get in, I want to go to Sheffield, UK to pave the way for my ever-encroaching future. I've always known I wanted to write in English, simply because I find it easier to express myself in that language than I do in Dutch. And since the job offers for me in English in this country are slim to non-existant. So, it seems only natural I'll have to find it over there.

When I visited London two years ago, I kind of had the idea in the back of my head to start spreading around resumes, in the hopes of landing me a job and 'forcing' me to move there. But then again, it seemed foolish to think I'd instantly get a job in an industry that's been flat on its ass since 2007 or even that they'd pick me above an English-speaking native. There's no harm in dreaming, right?

A while ago, I sent one of my essays to the New York Review, or was it some other magazine? Anyway, I sent it, hoping to get published. That fell through, but it didn't keep me from writing and it sure as hell won't stop me from trying to get in!

Ever since I was little, I knew I didn't want to live in Belgium for the rest of my life. I knew I wanted to be somewhere else. I guess I'm just not that big a fan of this country. I was actually one of the few (?) who prayed Belgium'd split by the end of our country's crisis. I think that sort of says it all about my commitment to this country -or what passes a country anymore, I mean, 385 days without a government in the past three years? Seriously.

So, once the paperwork is over and done with, I can only hope to be considered a valid candidate and maybe, come next year, I'll be blogging live from the UK. One thing's for sure, I'll have my resumes packed and ready to be dealt around, even if I have to force-feed them to all the major newspapers and publishing houses.

Explicit content

This blog might be my most explicit and shocking to date so I warn those tender of soul not to read further.

It's been brought to my attention that I have a real gift with words. Up until a few minutes ago, I saved my best work for someone special, but then she pointed out that it should be out there, for all to read. So, instead of hiding my "gift" from the rest of the world, I decided to share it with you, to do with it however you please.

This would also be a good time to note the PG-13 or even M rating for this blog. Forgive the poor structure and raggidy feel of the story, it was originally a series of text messages. I thought about editing it first, but then again, I didn't want it to lose any of its ... charm. Enjoy.

Almost midnight. I'm heading for club Persephone. Appropriate name, since once you enter this place, you go straight to the Underworld. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and desire. Everybody's already sitting at their tables, drinks in hand. The alcohol flows freely. I find a place near the stage. A glass of rhum awaits me. I take a sip. Already I can feel it working its way through my system. Then, at the stroke of midnight, all eyes turn to the stage...

Curtains rise. Breaths are held. Backs are straightened. Up comes you. A vision in fiery red lingerie. With one look you make half the room cum in their pants. You're a natural. Your body moves in a way only goddesses can. You defy Aphrodite herself with your gaze.

As the music swells and fills up the place, your body starts to sway. Your nails dig dip into your thighs and work their way up and down. I feel something stirring inside me. It wants out. But you're pulling the strings. I am under your spell. I am your puppet.

You wet your lips, making me wish I was your lipstick.

You touch your breasts, making me want to be the silk that covers them from the world.

You open your legs. No place I'd rather be.

The air is electric. My pants suddenly too tight. Everybody in town comes here just for you. But you are my Persephone. My way down.

You unhook your bra and toss it in my direction. I pick it up. It smells of you. I'm bursting inside.

Your show is heating up the place. The smoke circles your legs, aching to touch you, to be inside of you. And finally, you deliver the audience from tension and start to take off your panties. As one side slowly descends, I can see the gorgeous line between your hips, leading down to Nirvana, my destination.

There you are. Naked. Wanted. Waiting.

Then, the curtain falls. No time like the present, I think to myself. I run up the stage, behind the curtain. You're picking up your panties. I put my foot down and say "You won't need these anymore."

You look up, straight at me. You want it too. Your breasts are covered in your sweat. I completely lose control. I grab you and pull you up against the wall. As you wrap your legs around me, you pull my pants down. I think I'm going to explode. I never wanted anything this badly in my life. I take your hands and hold them above your head, you're mine now.

The air becomes too thick to even breathe. Suddenly everything turns dark.

When we both regain consciousness, we're lying on the floor. I turn around and look at you. I just know that there's no going back anymore. This is where I'll stay. In the Underworld, with you as my Persephone, my Queen. Nobody else will do.

Okay, so I told you guys this was heavy stuff. Thought I should tell you that I did edit this version a little bit, as the text messages were a bit more explicit on the whole 'deed' thing. But I thought that was maybe too much for this blog -or yourself- to handle. Of course, for those who want the full version, come see me. We'll talk.

As for now, I'm signing off. It's almost midnight after all...

These violent delights have violent ends

These violent delights have violent ends,

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,

Which, as they kiss, consume: the sweetest honey

Is loathsome in his own deliciousness,

And in the taste confounds the appetite

I know what you're thinking, this guy knows his Shakespeare. Okay, so I might have bought "The Complete Works of William Shakespeare", but that doesn't mean I randomly start quoting the sayings of this 16th century poet. It's just that the quote seemed appropriate for this blog. You'll soon find out why.

When you're watching American series such as The OC, One Tree Hill or even Seventh Heaven you'll always find a couple ready to be torn apart by someone else. One way or another, there's always somebody lurking in the shadows, craving what the other one's got, waiting to make their move. Ryan had to choose between Marissa and Teresa. Lucas struggled to keep his emotions for Peyton bottled up while he was with Brooke and the kids of Reverend Camden also weren't exactly the perfect monogamous role models.

I've often wondered how accurate these shows were, because if they were, that would mean that fidelity isn't high on anyone's Ladder of Virtues across the Atlantic. Still, the number of shows playing with the whole love triangle storyline are far too numerous to be just the fluke of one production house. Do our overseas neighbours have it right? Is there no such thing as fidelity anymore and are we all just secretly craving another person's conquest? And if so, is all still fair in love and war?

Marriage and love consequentially (?), are said to have been on the decline for quite some time. Feminists like to pinpoint this occassion with the coming of the Pill, said to have been the cause of the sexual revolution -and as an added bonus, it plummeted the stocks of marriage around the world. People weren't looking for commitment anymore, they only wanted instant gratification. No more waiting for the ring, followed by the "Happily Ever After" in the suburbs. The war was over, the battles had been fought, now it was time to enjoy what -more precisely, who- was left. Little did they know that the worst battles were yet to be fought, behind closed doors and tinted windows.

For some time now, I have found myself drawn towards an "unavailable". Yet, the feelings are mutual. Sure, there's always been something in the air, but sufficed to say, it never crossed over to the physical plain. Generally speaking, when a girl says she has a BF, you back off. It's the respectful thing to do. But what if the lines between faithfulness and "What he doesn't know, won't hurt him" start to fade?

Attraction is a funny thing. Most of the time, you can't explain it. It just is. It makes you wonder how something that is so wrong, can feel so right? Yet, there is definitely some attraction in the air. And lately this attraction has become borderline infatuation.

What started out as innocent -although, are they ever really?- text messages, slowly evolved into something more. However, we still remained aware of the boundaries that kept us apart. On her side, there was the matter of the BF. On my side, there was the matter of common decency and moral restraint. But seriously, Lust kicks Moral's ass each and every time. So I was fighting a losing battle. And in time, I started to realize this. The line was becoming increasingly blurry. I can't tell exactly when we finally shoved the whole friendship thing aside and became something more, but it had happened and once the shift was made, there was no turning back.

For now, our text messages try to satisfy our ever-increasing appetite, but it won't be long before the great physical divide is finally crossed. And when that time comes, I don't know what will happen. I don't know what we'll be and what will be left. Could Shakespeare have got it right and do fire and powder really consume each other until there is nothing left? But then again, they say that out of the ashes something new blossoms, so where does that leave us?

I can't believe that after all those years of resenting Americans for their promiscuous behaviour, I have finally become one of them. I have succombed to my inner urges and allowed myself to become entangled in a love triangle. I always knew marriage was dead, but I never could have predicted this new position I find myself in. In my head, there are a million voices all screaming at me at once, telling me to end this before someone gets hurt or caught. And I've got millions of reasons why I shouldn't continue this "affair", but how can something that feels so right, be so wrong?

Sure, you can slap morals and resentments in my face, but at the end of the day, all that remains are the two of us. Where we'll take this, I can't say, but for now, I'm just going to enjoy the ride. Life has seldom been good to me in so many ways, I just learn to take my pleasures where I can get them. And if it should mean my demise, I can only hope I'll be able to pick myself up again in the same way that I did all those times before.

Can you turn my black roses red?

As more and more blogs start to come to life, so do the words behind them. It starts out with a nervous introduction or a sort of explanation as to why this particular blog was created, but after a few entries, familiarity sets in. The author begins to open himself up to those willing to follow the links and who take the time to get to know him.

Can I ask you a question please?

Let's face it, in today's world, everything seems to go by in flashes. Flash. End of high school. Flash. First year of college over and done with. Flash. First love come and gone. We can't seem to get a hold of what is happening all around us. Pictures only capture a fraction of what we're going through. So maybe writing about them, seems like a more solid way to contain life, before it slips away.

Promise you won't laugh at me?

In class, the teacher told us that our generation's Facebook and blogs have replaced the diaries of old. In a way, that's true. We might have outgrown the paperback editions of our emotions, but we keep finding new ways to express how we really feel and think. Sure, we don't do it in extravagant ways such as writing a play worthy of Shakespeare or we don't compose the next Beethoven, but we each do something that matters to us in our own way.

As twisted as it seems,
I only fear love when it's in my dreams.

A few minutes ago, I was reading a friend's blog and I got to thinking about just how personal a blog can get. This morning, he asked me if I wrote personal stuff in my blog. I told him yes, because I can't imagine not doing that. If I were to leave out every personal detail of my life, you might as well go and read an encyclopedia, because this would just become an amalgamation of words, incoherently strung together.

So let in the morning light
and let the darkness fade way.

I'm not saying we should all pour our hearts out, because let's face it, then we'd need at least two bottles of vodka to even remotely start dealing with all the residual heartache that ensues. A blog should be a fine line between what defines you and what you want people to define you with. For some, this'll be easy, but for others -those who've stepped on a few landmines in the emotional battleground we call life- it'll be that much harder.

Can you turn my black roses red?

In my nineteen years of living, I'm sure I have amassed quite a bit of emotional luggage, enough to fill  a jumbo jet even, but each and every one of those experiences has contributed in some way to the person writing these words. It doesn't help to keep all of your emotions bottled up inside when it can feel so good to let them flow through your fingers, dance on your keyboard and jump onto the luminous screen in front of you. I promise you, once you see your heartache black on white, you'll know the worst part is over.

Can you turn my black roses red?

So in a way, blogs are the diaries of the twenty-first century, only they're a lot more public and they take up far less time. Time which can now be better spent at actually going out into the world -as opposed to sitting on your bed, listening to sappy songs, waiting for life to strike so you can write about it- and living your life.

One last year has come and gone.

And if there is tragedy, don't try to hide away from it. Tragedy finds us all in the end. But just remember: tragedy plus time equals comedy. So one day, after the fallout has cleared, you'll be able to get back up and you'll probably walk away with a few clever punchlines and sarcastic remarks to laugh away the pain.

It's time to let your love rain down on me.

The best of times

College. A time of wreckless partying, experimenting, flirting, drinking, meeting new friends, forging destinies and of course the occassional studying (although this part can easily be skipped, with the necessary consequences, of course).

As I was looking around my room today, I got to thinking that maybe I should clean it up a bit. I started by emptying out my bookcase and the drawers of my desk. It's funny how you can find these little treasures, tucked away under a pile of uselessness. For instance, I came across all my old documents from school, going as far back as elementary school. Since I had nothing better to do, I decided to gather all such documents in a folder. I came to a stunning conclusion: in my nineteen years on this , I've seen quite a lot of schools. Not in the least after leaving high school... 

I'll explain it by way of this nifty timetable:

- Age 3-6; Kindergarten (The "Speelkriebel" in Kessel-Lo)

- Age 6-12; Elementary school (The "Mosaic" in Kessel-Lo)

- Age 12-18; High school (The "Sacred Heart Institute" in Heverlee)

After high school, the tricky part sets in. Between 2008 and 2009, I:
- Enrolled at the Catholic University of Louvain, 1st year Bachelor Communicational Sciences

- Dropped out of the Catholic University of Louvain
- Enrolled at the University of Ghent, 1st year Bachelor Communicational Sciences

Between 2009 and 2010, I did the following:

- Enrolled at the University of Ghent, 2nd year Bachelor Communicational Sciences

- Dropped out of the University of Ghent
- Enrolled at the HUB, 1st year Applied Linguistics English-Spanish (changed to English-French)

And lastly, this year, I:
- Enrolled at the HUB, 2nd year Language and Literature Studies

So here we are, still at the HUB, not written out and not planning on it either. I guess it took me a total of three colleges, five enrollments and two dropping outs until I finally found what I wanted to do. You could see this as fickle behaviour or even downright stupid, but I guess this is just the way it was meant to be for me.

I don't regret any of my previous steps towards educational enlightenment, because I got to meet all of these amazing and different people and I got to do all of the college experiences three times over. So how can you say it's a bad thing? After all, I'm only nineteen and I've already done three different directions. It's a good thing I don't really look my age (without the beard, I might add), that way it doesn't sound/look so bad when I go over my school curriculum. In any case, people can always think of me as gifted, but when I add all of the times I dropped out, they can do the math themselves and figure out that I didn't finish any of these directions.

So, I finally found where I belong. My list of schools and colleges seems to end here. No more changing directions or changing schools. But wait, wasn't I planning on doing my Masters in Ghent?

Oh well, one more time couldn't hurt, now could it?

Movies to see this Fall

Normally, I'd just tell you something about a movie I've seen and comment on it, but seeing as how I've found this amazing site, I thought I'd take my little concept of one movie at a time and expand it. Here's a list of movies I think you should definitely keep an eye out for! The links to the trailers are embedded within the titles.

Monsters, now it's our time to adapt.

Six years ago, a NASA satellite crashed in Mexico. At least, they thought it belonged to NASA. Over the years, the alien life forms have spread throughout the country, forcing a quarantine of the affected region. What was once the line that shielded the United States from the influx of Mexican immigrants, now stands as the last bastion between humanity and the aliens. The story revolves around Andrew and Samantha, two ordinary people who become interlocked in the battle between two worlds. Andrew is escorting Samantha from South America to the US, but in order for that, they'll have to get through the infected zone, formerly known as Mexico. If the trailer is any indication, it bears a striking similarity to J.J. Abrams's "Cloverfield", only this time with a more steadier camera frame.

Saw VII, the traps come alive.

Jigsaw may be dead, but his legacy continues to wreak havoc upon the lives of those he deems need to be helped. Never before has the phrase 'I wanna play a game' had a more terrifying connotation that when it's coming from Jigsaw's little puppet. In this grand finale of the "Saw" series, Jigsaw abandons the empty warehouses and filthy basements, taking the torture topside and in broad daylight. You only have to look at the trailer to see that Jigsaw is ready for the public (aka shoppers at a mall) to see his uncanny designs. It is said that there'll be about eleven torture devices in the movie as well as one which was banned from the other six movies for being too violent and overall sadistic. Good news for all you gore-lovers! Time to get ready for the final act and it promises to be bloodier than ever!

Skyline, don't look up.

Los Angeles. City of hopes and dreams. A city of blinding lights. But wait, there's something wrong about these lights. They don't seem to be very... earthly. In the early morning, strange lights descend upon the city like falling stars. The lights draw out the curious humans and renders them unable to look away. As their eyes become fixed on the mesmerizing blue light, they are sucked into a vortex and pulled upwards into the sky. As the morning sun breaks through the clouds, more lights fall down on the city and enormous space ships are revealed. Pretty soon, entire neighbourhoods are being sucked up into them. What follows are the struggles of a few pockets of people who haven't yet looked into the lights and are trying to get out of the city. But as it turns out, the lights are happening all across the world and large scavenging machines roam the empty cities in search for possible escapees.

Beastly, love is never ugly.

This modern re-imagining of Beauty and the Beast takes places in New York City, where appearances mean everything. Alex Pettyfer (Stormbreaker) plays the role of Kyle, a teenager obsessed with looks. After publicly humiliating Kendra (Mary-Kate Olsen) he is transformed into something that reflects his inner ugliness. His body and face become ravaged by ghastly tattoos and scars. His curse comes with a possible salvation: if he is able to find someone who loves him for who he really is, and not for what he looks like, he'll be freed. His father locks him away in a house where he receives a blind tutor played by the loveable "Have you met Ted?" actor from How I Met Your Mother. On a faithful evening, he rescues Lindy (Vanessa "High School Musical" Hudgens") on the condition that she must stay with him in the hopes of retrieving his lost humanity.

Of course, there are a lot more movies to see this year, such as Part One of the final Harry Potter movie and the third Narnia movie, but it's impossible to make a full account of everything that'll be coming to theatres this Fall. Besides, I think these four are mouth-watering enough to get up from behind our small screens and go out to look at a bigger screen, preferably with surround sound and a bucket of popcorn in our right hand, and sodas waiting for us on our left.

The world is going to end

It's funny how everyone is worrying about what to write in their -somewhat mandatory- blogs. Some have even asked me how I do it. The truth is, I can't tell you how to begin writing. In my case, there's just something that sets me off and that makes me want to write about it. Not at all predetermined. More accidental.

A few hours ago, I went to the videostore and rented S. Darko, the sequel to Richard Kelly's masterpiece Donnie Darko. I was mentally prepared to see a weak-ass version of its predecessor, but there's always that tiny spec of hope that you cling on to, hoping it won't be as bad as you think. Sadly, Hollywood isn't exactly known for its stunning sequels. There are exceptions, I mean, personally I think RE - Apocalypse and Extinction were far better than the original. Scary Movie also got more interesting as the sequels started to build up. Sure, now the franchise has hit a brick wall, but I still find myself enjoying each time Anna Faris takes some random object to the head.

So I had some hope for S. Darko, but I was deeply disappointed. I don't know how many of you have seen Donnie Darko, but for those who haven't, mind you that what follows will undoubtedly spoil the movie for you. What I liked most about DD was the way Kelly played with the concept of time travel. The first image of the gnarly rabbit saying 'The world is going to end' stays with you forever. The movie was so strong in the way it interwove all of these charismatic characters and placed them into this bizarre world of impending doom and a storyline that slowly, but surely reached its shattering crescendo. Since the movie ended with the death of Donnie, it was fairly obvious that a sequel wouldn't include him. So they had to find somebody else who'd become tasked with saving the world. And I guess they were being smart by keeping it in the family.

Samantha 'Sam' Darko was chosen as the new savior of mankind. The casting was great; nobody else can play the haunted, fragile sister of Donnie better than Daveigh Chase. But pretty soon, her sad puppy eyes and reluctance to communicate like a proper person, makes you want to blow the whole thing off. The only character that was really worth watching was Iraq Jack, played by One Tree Hill's James Lafferty. This is because he is the only one who comes closest to what Donnie Darko was. A Cassandra-esque prophet who proclaimed the end of the world and was visited by someone from the future.

S. Darko is stitched together by seemingly endless shots of accelerated cloud movement and still lives. When Sam comes into focus, you keep your fingers crossed she'll do something that makes you want to appreciate her, but in the end, all she does is whine and wander around aimlessly with a look of retardedness that seems permanently imprinted on her facial structure. In any case, don't waste your time on this little eyesoar. Do yourself a favour and don't let the good name of Donnie Darko be tainted by his lesser sister.

The two movies do get points for the way they use the whole time-travel idea as a means to push the story forwards. Because, let's face it, time is the one thing we'll never get our hands on. We can fly off to the moon, construct the tallest skyscrapers the world has ever seen and alter the human body in a way never imagined before, but we'll never be able to control the flow of time.

If I have a glass in my hand and I let it fall to the ground, I can't do anything to change this. I can't go back in time and warn me not to let the glass fall. I can't go forward and catch it before it falls. Trapped in the present. Unable to change the past or to anticipate the future.

So forgive me if my rantings about time become a worn-out subject for you, but it's just something that has always captured my imagination. For those who've played the Prince of Persia series, you know how amazing it is to rewind your actions and undo every mishap, even your own death. The same goes for the Terminator series. Who wouldn't want to be visited by someone from the future, telling you how great you'll be one day?

I can give you an endless list of games, books and movies that toy with the idea of time. So that's why I've got a soft spot for Donnie Darko and why I can appreciate -just a little, though- the magic of S. Darko.