Hell Is Other People

im listening to Cherubini's Requiem, for some reason requiem masses always put me in a creative mood. So this, my inaugural post, i will attempt to create out of thin air a purpose a raison d'etre as it were for taking up this miniscule section of the world wide web. i suppose that in the purest sense of reason my desire is to provide a slightly more tangible mark of my presence here in this most intangible electron circus. here i will pour out my hopes, dreams, and invective. and possibly offer some advice, critiques and gossip concerning the state of humanity as it continues its headlong dive into destruction. sidenote: this cherubini requiem is getting better and better. i do so enjoy gongs. note to reader: pick up a copy for yourself. anyway, back to business. reason? why am i here? do i have enough to say to keep myself interested and even more important do i have enough to say to keep you interested? we'll see. im downloading a number of requiems at the moment so if all goes well i'll post during each one. Tonight a fantastic movie: "espinazo del diablo" (aka the devil's backbone) year 2003. spooky ghost story by william the bull (aka guillermo del toro) set in the romantic era of the spanish civil war. a charming boys orphanage run by anti-franco communist sympathisers and one nefarious lothario, and haunted by santi a small murder victim who constantly leaks blood from a gash in his adorable little head. the highlight of the movie is the touching death scene of the headmistress when her friend and confidant held her dying in his arms and recited the following poem:

Stay by my side as my light grows dim
as my blood slows down and my nerves shatter with stabbing pain
as my heart grows weak and the wheels of my being turn slowly
Stay by my side as my fragile body is racked by pain
which verges on truth
and manic time continues scattering dust
and furious life bursts out in flames.
Stay by my side as I fade so you can point to the end of my struggle
and the twilight of eternal days at the low, dark edge of life.

the first time i saw this movie several years ago i wrote a copy of the poem and gave it to someone i had strong feelings for that one might consider to be love. the response was less than i expected and from that i learned a valuable lesson. love poems are only effective if they come from my heart not someone else's.