Matt and me

So I finally went to The Dark Knight, which was pretty good, but there was a ton of hype swirling like mist about the movie, which kind of gave it a lustrous sheen. I didn't see Batman Begins. Why, you ask in an accusatory tone? Because. I didn't see why I had to. I'm not a huge fan of Christian Bale, the movie seemed to be kind of lame, and everyone else went to see it. The same was the case with that Superman movie. (Superman = dick) But well, Heath Ledger gave his life for this movie. So it must have been good. Also, Matt said I had to go or else.

I'm sure everyone's already read a thousand gushing reviews of Dark Knight, so I'll spare the details. I will say though, that I found some moments in the movie especially comedic, moments wherein I was the only one chuckling.

Like I said, I'm not a huge fan of Christian Bale. I think most of his roles have been rich men who beat up on poor people. American Psycho, Batman, 3:10 to Yuma, and also as Thomas the Poor Shot in Pocahontas. Not technically a rich man, but he was beating up on people with little to no monetary money. Because Christian Bale has always portrayed some regular man on the verge of psychosis, I'm super super scared of him. If I met Christian Bale, I would probably pee. Not to mention he allegedly assaulted his circus dancer mother and his circus dancer's daughter sister. I fear that the only thing they did to set him off was have a better-looking business card than him.

Anyway, it was good to get out of the house. I'd taped moustaches on just about everything with a face. I've already properly bedecked my walls with art and atrocities. I don't think there's any room for anything else.

And, the funny thing is that even though I'm happy with it now, I've only got three more years left in this place. It's kind of weird to imagine the day I have to pack up all my things and leave. Like, how empty the walls will be, and how all the tack holes will be the only reminder, whatnot. Or, even stranger, what things will I leave, and what things will I take with? What a trip. Oh, sure, three years is a long time, but it's not like that moment's never going to come. This room has gone from being the place I sleep in to my room. I doubt that I'll be able to graffiti my walls in a dormitory.

It was good to get out of the house because I've had a hard day... well, a hard week... well... I've had a hard... It's been hard since I started what scrapings of a relationship me and this kid had. I kissed him, and I liked it. And then my brain went into overdrive and got me hooked on him, probably all on things I either made up or exaggerated. So I shouldn't have been surprised when things didn't work out. It was just a matter of time before things got to the state they're in now. This relation-shit has driven me halfway insane. It's torn me apart, and so I'm doing what anybody under altered mentality would do. I'm going cold turkey. I'm not going to call. Of course I'm still going to think about him, and of course I'm still going to feel the same, but I'm going to let time take its toll.

He's like a pack of cigarettes. And me? I'm just going to stop talking to cigarettes, and thinking that cigarettes care about me, and thinking that I can get cigarettes to spend time with me.

So I take solace in cigarettes' best friend, who also happens to be my best friend, who is a riot to be around and thusly, I went to see the new Batman movie with Matty. I can assure you that I'll be writing post after post about how much I miss cigarettes and how they make me feel. That'll be in between trips down memory lane and visits to cigarettes' old haunt. Sigh. How fun is it going to be to go back to school and the same room where I kissed cigarettes' sweet filter.