Jeg fik i dag set The Passion of the Christ som faktisk var rigtig god på trods af min svigtende interesse i relgion og tro på Gud og Jesus. Meget kan man sige om Jesus men he takes a licking and keeps on ticking. Der var scener som nok var lidt for lange efter min mening. Fx. tog det jo en evighed at nå igennem byen med det skide kors over skulderen. Selve korsfæstelsen og afstraffelsesscenerne generelt var brutale men ikke så meget det rørte mig. 9 med pil op på 13-skalaen til den.
Jeg har fri i morgen men dagen skal vist mest bruges på at få A Tale of Two Cities færdig. Den svinger lidt i kvalitet men er overall ret OK.
Jeg har fået sendt min short story "Watch" til engelskstudiets eget lille magasin "Workshop" og det viste sig at jeg kender en af redaktørerne på det. Med lidt held burde "Watch" komme i sep/okt udgaven. Jeg har gang i en anden historie som hedder "Housecall" som handler om afstraffelse, ondskab generelt og ikke mindst blodets bånd (i dette tilfælde forholdet mellem mor og datter). Efter jeg havde set Passion fik jeg en ide til at give historien en religiøs (og dermed endnu ondere) undertone hvilket gav den nyt liv (synes jeg da selv) og gjorde at den blev nogenlunde færdig.
Dagens uddrag taget ud af en sammenhæng:
He looks at me. “Katie, are you ready?”
Even though deep down I know the answer I want to ask what I’m supposed to be ready for but when I try to speak my mouth fills with vomit and blood. It stains my naked body.
“So dirty, so used. Such a little, filthy bitch!” The man stands up and points his little finger at my left arm. The itching in my palm gets worse and all of a sudden my arm is ablaze. I laugh and the vomit and blood runs like a river out of my mouth. My mother screams and I swing my flaming arm at her to make her shut up. Her hair catches on fire and she panics. The man looks at her and does nothing. My mother’s wings catch on fire as well. Her screams now seem to annoy the man as he goes over to her. I stop laughing and swallow the vomit in my mouth.The first punch floors my mother. The first kick keeps her down. The first stomp makes her quiet. The final kiss turns her into ashes. I look at the man and I wipe my lips.
Hallmark here I come :)
Jeg har fri i morgen men dagen skal vist mest bruges på at få A Tale of Two Cities færdig. Den svinger lidt i kvalitet men er overall ret OK.
Jeg har fået sendt min short story "Watch" til engelskstudiets eget lille magasin "Workshop" og det viste sig at jeg kender en af redaktørerne på det. Med lidt held burde "Watch" komme i sep/okt udgaven. Jeg har gang i en anden historie som hedder "Housecall" som handler om afstraffelse, ondskab generelt og ikke mindst blodets bånd (i dette tilfælde forholdet mellem mor og datter). Efter jeg havde set Passion fik jeg en ide til at give historien en religiøs (og dermed endnu ondere) undertone hvilket gav den nyt liv (synes jeg da selv) og gjorde at den blev nogenlunde færdig.
Dagens uddrag taget ud af en sammenhæng:
He looks at me. “Katie, are you ready?”
Even though deep down I know the answer I want to ask what I’m supposed to be ready for but when I try to speak my mouth fills with vomit and blood. It stains my naked body.
“So dirty, so used. Such a little, filthy bitch!” The man stands up and points his little finger at my left arm. The itching in my palm gets worse and all of a sudden my arm is ablaze. I laugh and the vomit and blood runs like a river out of my mouth. My mother screams and I swing my flaming arm at her to make her shut up. Her hair catches on fire and she panics. The man looks at her and does nothing. My mother’s wings catch on fire as well. Her screams now seem to annoy the man as he goes over to her. I stop laughing and swallow the vomit in my mouth.The first punch floors my mother. The first kick keeps her down. The first stomp makes her quiet. The final kiss turns her into ashes. I look at the man and I wipe my lips.
Hallmark here I come :)
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