Bad things seem to happen when I leave the house.
I went out this evening see The Lord Of The Rings: The Two Towers.
The last time I had been to this particular theatre I had vowed not to go back. I think we even lost the tickets eventually after they became slowly faded by the sun beating down on them day after day in a small holder container between the seats of our old car. Think something wax I had melted all over it as well. The Skulls was in the movies at that point in time. The movie had been cut close to the exact climax. If you?ve had the misfortune to see this movie (again, what do I know, they made a sequel right?) the point when they?re going to have the duel at the end.
(Snip)
Cut right out. I had to suffer through some of the same parts in that movie twice to see what happened when it came on tv. It was cut from when they bring out the dueling guns and all to the dumb-ass who got shot laying shot on the ground. What was that like 2 years ago or something? Haven?t been back to the same theater until tonight. Been putting off seeing the Two Towers as well. Didn?t want my experience to be ruined by yet another run-in with the savages.
Despite the fact that these slow twits around here have no idea how to operate an equalizer and have cut the base-range of sound entirely out of the movie, I am experiencing what I believe a movie needs to be successful. Suspension of disbelief. I had been concerned at first due to the obvious presence of children in the theatre. Their high pitched giggles had a way of ripping me away from total absorption into a good movie. Also a cell phone call had run into the starting credits. All and all though these distractions could be labeled as that, and although I would have liked to feel a slight rumble underneath my chair as Gandalf battled the Balron (or whatever it was called), I was pleased to see some of my favorite books portrayed on film. So, really getting into it, the orcish horde busts through the keep and all. They?re riding down the ramp, sliging bodies left, right, and trampling beneath. Righting out toooooowww.w?..
(Bllllleeeaahhhhh)
Film burns up right there. I think we sat there in disbelief and disgust for like 3 minutes or so before we realized they weren?t going to be rushing up to fix any sort of problem like that. If my sanity buffer (fiancé) starts going it allows me free reign to rant in public and it can get pretty ugly. This one was delayed until we stood up. We?ll have go to another theater to see it again now anyway to get the whole feeling of the movie, and now I?ll never like it as much as I would have if I wouldn?t now be reminded of yet another attempt to deal with the common man. So the rant would start somewhere around there and flow between something better the projectionist could have been doing then flogging his log to me sputtering out my previous experience at the box office. Heh, sometimes I think my behavior rubs off on my fiancé. She?s so in tune with how I feel that she rides right along on the coaster.
?You know if we could get like a rain check or something??
Well into the rant, and half-way across the movie theatre lobby. My sweetie goes into action. She?s targeted the nearest one and starts closing pace quickening a bit. That she?s taken the lead this evening, has left me sputtering backup. It was a double-team assault. As he fled from her, I quickly circled the glass island, trapping this frightened animal, emphasizing my wide eyed rant by jabbing my index finger downwards to the counter.
No, 2 years ago, here, right here. Exact same thing, with The Skulls.
?Tha? Skuulls?? was my response.
?Don?t breath heavy at me!?
Surprisingly enough it wasn?t me that had emitted from. Shocked I took a break from pounding my index finger into the counter and turned to see my little sweetums, busting this guy down at the box office and the two managers all at the same time. My god there was this patron standing there absolutely dumbfounded. Before we had stormed the island-like box office he had been all polite. He seemed embarrassed to be asking since they didn?t have time to wait. At least everyone would get their cash back tonight.
I still can?t seem to sleep. How could all this be dealt with? I need to have some way to start sorting and shifting all these thoughts around.
Categorizing:
The best way is to that I?m thinking is to keep some sort of a daily journal. I think. Least I have a computer. It?d be real hard to try and do that with pen and paper, or pencil and paper? or crayons I guess for some?
I?ve been flooding everything into a sort of stream. I apologize for my earlier rants. I have a problem with grinding it in. I?m just way to rough on the edges about now. I?ve started remembering a lot of things. That it?s neither of our birthday?s my fiancé and I had decided to go to a dinner where the food was actually eaten for taste other than mere convenience. I have strange things that happen to me whenever I go out it seems.
Dinner was really good. I enjoy spending time with some of the few people I allow to be close to me. I know now that I didn?t stand alone in that place. I know that a lot of you did stand with me. Scarily enough, until I met my fiancé the bond I had with those in the program would be some of the closest bonds I ever had. Thank all of you for the help and support that you all gave me at some point or another. ?Misbehavers? included. Except for ones that were gone before I could ever spend time with them. I know now all of you actually were honest with me.
All of the time.
No matter what tones came from your mouths at any given time; what nervous twitches exposed and laid bare to the judgment of everyone; we were communicating. It was in a weird and foreign language that none of us knew. A type of phaser lingo jive. Hell, I was always surprised that anything managed to come out. I had to go out and advertise for this place too. I even spoke from the pulpit at my parent?s church on the stay at home. They had caused me to be exalted to the highest reach of hypocrisy I had ever attained.
Heh, heh.
Those people were out there just lapping it up. Craving it. Getting a little more juice for gossip. A little flesh still left on the bone here and there. Of course, people just love Sally J. America getting its rocks off, televised orgy style right from the pulpit. Watch her send kids like us off to be verbally assaulted, physically abused, and sexually molested. We all know what goes on when the cameras aren?t there. When the recorders aren?t running. Remember the rule about it?
No recording devices allowed during? what was the rest of it?
Had to state how to apply the rule.
Rules-Rap. Every day. Sometimes they would stretch rules rap from the usual 30 minute group. These could prove to be rather difficult, and you would not want to be stuck not knowing yet another rule you had to follow.
Something like: 1st most important rule, 2nd most important rule, how many of those were there? One of them was about manipulating parents. On certain phases the doors always had to be open, so others could make sure that phasers weren?t trying to manipulate their parents. Can you all please help me with some of these things?
The staff would hurry about, whispering nervously to each other. One would have to catch all this out of the corner of their eyes. In drastic situations they would whisper between each other in front of or on the sides of group. The inmates would be patched up or hidden from sight long before anyone would be allowed in to observe. Wasn?t it also our responsibility to guard from people coming in as well? I remember a rap where Tom was really trying to grind that in, Playing his little walk around the group talking to staff looking for people trying to shift any attention to them and?
(Snap) That little pointing motion with the out-stretched finger pointing forward. Eyes Front.
There were just so many things that you could do wrong in that place. To remain in compliance with the 1st most important rule, it would lead to a constant stream of admittances and confessionals. I forget what phase that I decided the best way to deal with these things was to tally them up in my head and confess them at set intervals during the day. I remember a group of us would all rattle off the broken rules before and after car transports, so my attention would not have to be taken away from driving.
Another thing. The staff had convinced me to feel so betrayed if I was lied to. I think I remember even telling my fellow inmates just not to lie to me. They could tell me anything or nothing. If they were allowed to have things I would let them have it. I genuinely tried to empathize and clung desperately to these people to try and help each other pick up all the shattered shards of glass that erupted when we came together. I think most of us were just content at the time to hurriedly scrounge around and grab a few easily accessible shards to cover the most vulnerable areas and flee out of there. How many of us came out of there a mix-a-match of utter dysfunction. We had all entered as individuals, and all left as something much less. A fraction of what we were.
