The Hangover was really disappointing. I couldn't understand why everyone was so excited about it.
Well if you mean the first one I think it was totally based on hype and at this point people are hungry to have something to cling to in cinema. I was less than excited for the hangover 2 because although the first movie made me laugh alot it wasn’t honestly that great of a film. In the terms of comedy it became a modern classic or pretty much the best we are going to get nowadays. The hangover 2 was a waste of film and a pathetic almost shot for shot remake that played on the originals ludicrous situations and catchphrases but this time it played that record until it broke and wore down into an annoying loop of less than par comedic pulp.
I woke up today feeling very empty and I drifted through the day. I dwelled today on the thought of how over the last few years I have withdrawn my real self to save my mind from redicule and judgement. For years I had been abused, years of emptiness surrounded by people that never really cared about me. I believed the best of people until the day life showed me that everyone lies. I have grown cold because I have been ostracized for being a deeply emotional creature. I let it go of who I was and became numb just to cope with dissapointment.
“What I mean by big was that her ass was big and her tits were big and that she was big in all the right places. She seemed a bit crazy, but I kept looking at her body and I didn’t care.”—Charles Bukowski
My body is aching and so is my heart. Today I feel empty and very desolate. I don’t feel my purpose and my heart and mind both know that I have lost balance completely and Like an un-snuffed flame there are little embers of pain burning inside of me. I want so much more in my life and this emptiness has me feeling suicidal, it’s grip bruises me. I feel alone in this universe and I cannot say anything else.
I went to therapy today and sat speaking with a women as she wrote down little notes on a computer as I spoke about mysef, and it made me feel more empty to imagine what she must have been writing. I think it’s the people that we love that help us define our own definitions of pain…. I can’t even begin to tell you.