Here's another one, still about the dirty word we all love to hate. The FORCE we try to fight, avoid and dismiss as too overrated, overused, abused, weaponized with high grade plutonium that will scare Israel into World War 3: love, luv, lurv, my dripping, sappy heart. Ick.
But beyond all the poetry of that magical fantasy that everyone hopes for: To love and be loved in return---cue Moulin Rouge theme---I have not really met anybody who is immune to this kind of sea sickness, me included.
Is it easier now? There are a lot more of the anonymous worlds where Narnians and other creatures of the wardrobe can purr and play?
Yes, sometimes we wonder when we wake up if the happy surprise will finally arrive. Will he finally send that stray text or email that will lead to something wonderful. We wish, not too much, but just with a whiff to send us off our day.
We note, wryly and sometimes with a hint of dread, how wicked hope pumps us with anticipation.....
We've had enough false starts to know better and many bated breaths to invest too much..... Enough already. Days that buoy up like helium sheathed in primary colored latex. Days that turn up and then just as easily turn leaden with pins and needles.
How many calories do you burn when you make love? I’m thinking if it’s high enough, wouldn’t promiscuity be a better way of getting fit than going to the gym? Besides, I’d love to be able to say, “I’m not a whore; I’m an athlete.” In all seriousness, if I can fuck the fat off, why would I try to try to jog it off?
Bugs like that have to meet their death between the grip of hard nails. Squished, squashed and very dead. No love lost and good riddance.
Puce is a color that is defined as ranging from reddish-brown to purplish-brown, with the latter being the more widely-accepted definition.... (Wikipedia)
Puce is a shade of red. Not far from the vermilion stain on my thumbs after the blood bath.
Remember our operational definition of mash-ups? Let’s review, kids. “Mash-up is what happens ‘when you take two songs and mash them together to make an even richer explosion of musical expression. In other words, two songs that might not initially seem to belong together are blended, the process of which reveals unexpected connections between the songs and might even yield an even stronger work than either one is on its own.’”
But what if it’s a Bizaro mash-up (you know, Bizaro? That freak who’s the anti-hero of Superman, the positron of an electron or the anti-gravity of, well, gravity.)? In short, it’s something that results in the opposite of an intended effect. You mash the pair up and kaput! Disaster! And your name shall be “Happy Together.”
I remember this film well, not just because it’s Wong Kar Wai, but because it gave me a headache.
Two lovers from Hong Kong, explode together in Argentina and seem forever poised to fight the predestined consequences of their natures. One is flighty, another, an anchor. A la Holly v. Paul of Breakfast at Tiffany’s (but without the happy ending and full orchestra to cap it off). Opposites attract, yes, and yet, there is ever the danger of annihilation.
Here’s to love.
A brief write-up of the movie, “Happy Together,” says:
“In high school freshman biology class I asked a question that exposed my ignorance of all things sexual. After having seen so many Hollywood movies in which lovers always seemed to click, I asked a teacher why everyone didn't take the same amount of time to reach orgasm. "Everyone is different," she said.
And that is the ultimate truth of relationships. Rarely are two people in synch. But when it does happen, it's amazing. Perhaps that's what makes Wong Kar-Wai's Happy Together such an amazing movie. It highlights the fact that we are rarely in synch with each other.
The plot of the film is relatively simple. Lai Yiu Fai (Tony Leung) and Ho Po Wing (Leslie Cheung) are lovers in a tumultuous relationship. But they are passionate when they are together. Getting away from Hong Kong which is on the verge of its historic repossession by the Chinese government from British rule, they end up in Buenos Aires. As they search for Igazu Falls, they end up angering each other, and Wing breaks it off. "Maybe sometime we can start again," he says, as they so often do. But Fai has had enough of stopping and starting and this time, he's tired of all the games (even though he plays them too).
Fai takes a job as a doorman at a tango bar, and Wing turns to a life of hustling. Their paths cross again, and when Fai sees Wing's new lifestyle, he is destroyed. But their paths continue to cross until a violent client breaks Wing's hands, and Fai takes him in. Eventually they become lovers again, but Fai still cannot stand Wing's waywardness and coyness. Fai eventually kicks out Wing. Fai finds a new job at a restaurant and befriends a young boy named Cheng (Chan Cheng), who has the distinguishing characteristic of having very good hearing. As Fai has reached a low point, the youth's enthusiasm brings him to a better place, though he is filled with melancholy and a longing to make good with his family. Fai, to quell these desires, starts having sex in anonymous bathrooms and porno theaters, something he thought only Wing does. Eventually, Fai makes a third effort to find Igazu Falls, and this time succeeds. Then he returns to Hong Kong, where he makes a short stop at the Cheng family's market. Fai sees Cheng's picture and at last feels confident that he can visit his old friend, though his relationship with his own family remains rocky.
Simply put, that's the story of the film: Two lovers break up, try to get back together, and fail miserably. This is the flip side of Sunrise. As Sunrise told the story of a married couple that survived their differences and boredoms, Happy Together suggests a sense of alienation and difficulty in all relationships of getting into synch together. As is the case in most of the time with Wing and Fai, they are never able to bend to the other's need until it is too late. They both want to make each other happy, but not for the sake of their individualism and their pride.” (http://www.cinemonkey.com/reviews/houxhappy/houxhappy.html)
Hi there planeteers, linkers and cupids. Gaia broadcasting again. Here are a few more lines to hook up a fresh fish from the big online ponds. Keep wishing, fate will soon relent!
But these are fine lines, you see. With just a few dustings and tweakings they could be more than the lame limps that they are. Promise.
1.Manhattan is as old as a song. Picture this: Katz’s. You sitting, comfy as the couch. Blissful with the pastrami on white bread. Ignoring the moans from the famous table. Or fail. Your vegan buds hasn’t been defiled with meat. Your pearly whites, then, now sing of my murder.
2.Ok, Spock, I won’t hand you your unexpected good lighting. Nah, you won’t get a threesome too but I promise you layered lasagnas and shadows as funky as that armpit of Manila---Quiapo. Simple. Wonderful. Reckless.
3.Here’s another adventure, how about a thrust as deep as Ken Ryker’s and soon you will be asking “Zac Ephron who?”
4.I forgive you for that horrible prose. I know, I know….your bad sense of judgment. From now on, boy, there will be no more of those flaccid attempts. I’ll make good, hard and deep memories with you, instead. Picture this: me, deep inside you, you, hanging by the length of my flesh, dancing to the delight of our sweet horny music. You ask me again, not a bit embarrassed, “who am I?”
5.Yes, coke and coffee are our preferred lubes. We both like em cold, too. Licks. So let's pretend we are as comfy as the couch in Starbucks. It's raining again, so we're seeking shelter inside this expensive vice. I'll probably be sipping my frap Mocha, thank you. You? I imagine, dark chocolate mocha. Since we both love lengthy conversations, why don't we engage in one and kill time. Baha pa sa labas. And probably the entire metropolis. I pick your mind and happily you offer..... Friends?
7.Tonight I tweet the nubbies and they can get rock hard. Damn. I need a shot of Valrhona.
8.I see you leaning on the wall, burning your stick. The smoke swirls like a hopeful incense. The wall is already green, ripe with its envy. It envies the flux that it cannot possess or even comprehend. So it must remain. Unmoved.
....Or opening lines that prove cheezier-than-month-old undies, stuck, forgotten under the bed sheets. Forgotten after you lost consciousness when you spent the night tickling Mr. Propriety while restrained with Mr. Inhibited's hand cuffs. Remember that red toy....?
Fumigate, expunge, sterilize! These lines now host a contagion. Ok, maybe just a hazard of memories.
Well, be free to experiment fellow inhabitants of Downelink, OkCupid, Planet Romeo (hello planeteers!) and their rainbow networks.
1. Hola Steve! If your tongue is a top, then my left ear volunteers to bottom. Here, trace the infinite constellations for as long as the tickled skin will allow.
