Hellish Night - Coversation With My Conscience

I am only human, so occasionally I am allowed to be a first class moron too.

Me, moron? No chance!

Well, let’s just say there’s a reason for every first in the record book.

Like last Thursday night for instance….

I had a big exam coming up in less than 48 hours, so what do you think did I do? I am supposed you’d say I was burying my head with books and notes? Burning the midnight oil? Camping inside the library? Nibbling on prune? Nooooooo…tough luck, big guy.



Yeap, instead, I went for a movie and nope, it had nothing to do with Herzberg's Theory or Maslow’s Hierachy of Needs. (Though, I'd recommend that Plant-squid monster to sort out his ‘anger management’ issues with an expert - pretty much like what was discussed in my Human Behavior class (OB). Lemme see….OK. Maybe not)

But I got free tickets.

And I am supposed we could collectively wheeze a sigh of relief?

Please, do not give me that tone. You know very well I am not lazy. I just prefer the term ‘economical with energy’.

Yeah yeah, keep telling yourself that, see if anyone believes that. So was it worth it?

I guess, the movie was alright. Nothing spectacular or life-changing about it. Hell no, it's not going to win a Best Picture Oscar or, mercy!, Cannes. But it was a nice escapism, summer blockbuster, break-from-last minute-study kinda movie nonetheless.

You see, nowadays we only watch movie to 'escape', not to 'face' reality anymore. And what a better way than to 'create' our so called reality that feasting on our senses and waking the true demon inside everyone of us (pleasure of destroying). Hence - the onion skin-thin storyline.

Again, New York is in trouble. If it’s not mutated viruses, it’s the Marshmallow Man. Now it has the minor inconvenience of a bad-temered monstrous, evil plant and a golden army (?) running down 5th avenue.

And yet again (no prize for guessing), Hellboy and his freaky cohorts, girlfriend Liz and aquatic blue man reject Abe Sapien returns with mystic Johann Krauss to save the world.

Sigh.

It wasn’t exactly the worst 120 minutes of my life. Believe me, I had worst. But another 60 minutes after that, WOO, was probably the toilet-inducing, self-hating, worst kinda feeling…you know, that guilty feeling… arghhh...

Great. Now, let’s talk about Saturday - the exam day. How did it turn out?

Nah. I won’t tell.

Exactly.