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I had the one great love recently and it lasted few years. But somehow I suddenly felt tired of it. I'm glad it ended. I know that few people will understand, but now I really know that love isn't the most important thing for me, for I always desired it, had it, got bored. If love isn't the most important thing for me, you can't say that it is the most important thing for everyone. I feel most content when I am on my own, when I don't have to share anything.. Only then my imagination does not have boundaries and anything is possible! I wish to always live life like this, never to be restricted.

Isn't that a masterpiece? I've read it in two languages and watched movie countless times. Definitely my favourite! Every scene has it's own deranged motive.. Atmosphere is so tense, actors are great and the music.. That beautiful and insane melody, tannis root.. Favourite part of the movie is when Rosemary and Hutch start to suspect something's not right. Poor Hutch, it was too late for him. And one of the most powerful scenes is Time's cover: IS GOD DEAD?



I just wanted to share my infatuation for this masterwork :)

COMMENTS

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Dakotah
17:23 Jan 06 2015

I love this movie. Now I want to watch it again.

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Elodia
17:37 Jan 06 2015

Oh, it's one of those I watch every two months and never get bored! Now I wanna watch it too haha

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POST COMMENT

I love tattoos and I find them beautiful. I have lettering tattoo, but there is one song that I think can simply describe life and I would love to have it written all over my body :) Here are the lyrics:



I see a slow, simple youngster by a busy street,

A begging bowl in his shaking hand.

Trying to smile but hurting infinitely. Nobody notices.

I do, but walk by.



An old man gets naked and kisses a model-doll in his attic

It's half-light and he's in tears.

When he finally comes his eyes are cascading.



I see a beaten dog in a pungent alley. He tries to bite me.

All pride has left his wild, drooling eyes.

I wish I had my leg to spare.



A mother visits her son, smiles to him through the bars.

She's never loved him more.



An obese girl enters an elevator with me.

All dressed up fancy, a green butterfly on her neck.

Terribly sweet perfume deafens me.

She's going to dinner, alone.

That makes her even more beautiful.



I see a model's face on a brick wall.

A statue of porcelain perfection beside a violent city kill.

A city that worships flesh.



The first thing I ever heard,

was a wandering man telling his story

It was you, the grass under my bare feet

The campfire in the dead of night

The heavenly black of sky and sea



It was us,

Roaming the rainy roads, combing the gilded beaches

Waking up to a new gallery of wonders every morn

Bathing in places no one's seen before

Shipwrecked on some matt-painted island

Clad in nothing but the surf - beauty's finest robe



Beyond all mortality we are, swinging in the breath of nature

In early air of the dawn of life

A sight to silence the heavens



I want to travel where life travels,

following its permanent lead

Where the air tastes like snow music

Where grass smells like fresh-born Eden

I would pass no man, no stranger, no tragedy or rapture

I would bathe in a world of sensation

Love, goodness and simplicity

(While violated and imprisoned by technology)



The thought of my family's graves was the only moment

I used to experience true love

That love remains infinite,

as I'll never be the man my father is



How can you "just be yourself"

when you don't know who you are?

Stop saying "I know how you feel"

How could anyone know how another feels?



Who am I to judge a priest, beggar,

whore, politician, wrongdoer?

I am, you are, all of them already



Dear child, stop working, go play

Forget every rule

There's no fear in a dream



"Is there a village inside this snowflake?"

- a child asked me

"What's the colour of our lullaby?"



I've never been so close to truth as then

I touched its silver lining



Death is the winner in any war

Nothing noble in dying for your religion

For your country

For ideology, for faith

For another man,

Yes



Paper is dead without words

Ink idle without a poem

All the world dead without stories

Without love and disarming beauty



Careless realism costs souls



Ever seen the Lord smile?

All the care for the world made Beautiful a sad man?

Why do we still carry a device of torture around our necks?

Oh, how rotten your pre-apocalypse is

All you bible-black fools living over nightmare ground



I see all those empty cradles and wonder

If man will ever change



I, too, wish to be a decent man-boy but all I am

Is smoke and mirrors

Still given everything, may I be deserving



And there forever remains the change from G to E-Minor