The War of The Worlds

okay, after soooooo much hype from the trailers, and the review after review after review, the continious playing of 'the making' on tv, then the re-runs of the 50s' version on tv, the huge premier in London with Tom Cruise flatering the red carpet, i finally watched the movie.

the entire movie is just buildings falling over each other and people getting scorched and becoming dust. you know i'm old fashion when it comes to movies, i like to watch a movie where people converse, i wanna see one person express himself with words and facial gestures to another person, i wanna feel his emotions thru his words, so after watching a movie where the first half of the movie the only dialoge goes, 'Robbiieeee.......!!!!' and the second half of the movie the only dialoge goes 'Raccccccchellll....!!!!'

but the one thing that hit me at the end of the movie (no actually at the beginning of the movie) is that we're made for all this shit, built for the kill. god made us like the perfect weapons and he armed us with the most dangerous of substances, all around us at our disposals. then the entire movie (maybe because the past few weeks my mins has been surrounded by death and horror epics of peoples lifes), i started to wonder about the fixations we have on our fears, mainly with death. now we have a fixation, or a mind set that we will die one day, right, yet we have a fiction beyond imagination that even after death we still exist, dead being completely wiped out of exitence and the believe we have a soul and the acknowledgement of the spritual world. how does the two mix? does it even exist? even if it does exist how did we come about to discovering it?

i took an example, the fixation upon beauty in this world. this is what makes us shallow and judgemental but the fiction in us is what gives us a wide range perspective to what circums to everything that we presume or relate to as beauty. we tend to forget what we think or how we think, but sometimes something just overwhelms us and makes us appreciate what we feel or percieve with our emotions, or even what we sometimes see with the naked eye. how do we expain this phenomenon? i call it the 'fiction theory'. we've seen to many colors, too many cartoons, too many prince charmings, too many bibles and scriptors, it all gives us ideas and fantasies. then the reality of what we see or focus with our retinal vision makes us fight these images or ideas with the fixations of what the eye likes and the stream feeding these images to the brain, that is actually secretly telling our feelings 'to shut the fuck up, listen to your eyes'. which is why we tend to like the things we see we tend to crave to materials we come by in the daily world and we all like to think that this is what is beautiful and important. but is it? even if it is, why? and why not? who is to say its right or wrong? who makes the final call?

when a ball spins and comes to a halt position, we claim the energy that spun it, didn't end but merely dispursed into another form of energy particals and is still in existense, if we can except this, why can't some of us except life after death. for after all we humans are just a huge pile of an energy force, aren't we? i think we are, cause we don't run on baterries nor do we have to stick a petrol pump up our asses. so what keeps us running, whats the fuel we use, food is just like our timing belt and water is still like water. i know it all sounds easy but it becomes compliccated when we can't see it or the fact that involves emotions and thoughts and unforseen behaviour, also not to forget, we are at the end humans, something sacred He created, so we are beyond mere understandings or our comprehension, gee whiz eh?

we fight everyday to survive, when we fail to realize that we fight everyday to kill, we're not on the giving end but recieving. the world is actually out to kill us, we're fighting it everyday. we've come to capture it, we've come to conquer it and make it our slaves, but somehow, the world retaliating against us, behind our backs, we just don't really give a shit or completely oblivion to it. once again, is it? even if it is, why? and why not? ever thought about it this way, maybe we're the aliens, we've been here far too long to remember where we came from or why we came in the first place, and the ants ever since have gone into hidding, they've learnt to escape our punishment between the scales of our shoe souls, occasionally the get one of us, then its a TGIF down there.

i'm not making sense even to myself...

see if we were not suppse to be here in the first place, why is it our addaptation is so perfect to this 3rd world from the sun, why is the these resources we dry up are the key to our very existence. was there like a blue planet? we kinda liked the grass on the other side of the bridge? i have to say, i like the idea, we fought to stay here and we're still fighting, everyday and every hour of our lives. i wish i was somehow right, or i had a way of proving this. but i extremely concoure with the idea. i mean, you know if you thought there was some force out there that created us and He somehow controls us, every step of the way, he is doing a pretty fucked up job. i'd like to make a complain with union, we need a new foreman.

you'd think i'd mean all this shit, oh ho ho, ther is where this brain of mine get so fucking twisted and fickle, cause then there is this rage of battles that goes on from the back of my head to the left side of my lung;

NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO........!!!!!!!!!!!

i will not say He does not exist, i believe in Him and i know He is fucking doing the best he can, if you can do better, i suggest you just take charge of your life, and stop fucking complaining.

i wish, i wish, i wish sooo badly it stopped there, cause God fuck me trice, it doesn't;

if i don't complain, how does he know i exist, if i keep on praising him, i'm just a statistic to him, he needs, no i want him to know i am down here, for fuck sakes look at me! selfish as this may sound i want you to look at me! look down, look up, look something, take my hand into your, and tell me you'll take me there. tell me if i lose my way, you'll holla, tell me if i'm doing the right thing. tell me something you dumb fuck, tell me something...

and it all said and done, i pick up the photo of my princess, and i realize, oh God you've said so much, you've said so much, so beautiful, so many sunshines, so many rainbows, i wish i could hug you, kiss your cheek and thank you, for the beautiful words you've spoken to me, with you greatest creation, love...