Tag: alcohol

I’d been flirting with the idea of doing a polyglot diary entry in English – it is another language after all – and today sealed it: I was writing, studying and thinking in Bulgarian so much today that I think I deserve a break! Anyway, I haven’t transcribed yesterday’s entry which also was in Bulgarian, which counts as a day of creative writing by the way, even if you as readers can’t know that yet.

I’m writing this on Noisli‘s text editor. This thing is awesome or what? Daphne has been my dealer of meditation-y stuff the past few weeks and it’s all been incredible almost to a point of fault. Daphne, who’s your dealer? I need to come in contact with the source. Unless it will be like flying too close to the sun. And when I wrote sun, the screen turned the colour of deep canary. Worthy of a toothy grin. I don’t know if it happened by mistake or if these people at Noisli are really clever.

While writing on top of these super-saturated colours that make me scream with pleasure inside, I’m also listening to the OST of Scott Pilgrim. We watched it with Vicente and Zanda (who predictably didn’t get most of it) a few days ago and, once again, several of its songs have been chewing on my mind through my ears – in a good way. It now ranks up with the movies I’ve watched the most times in my life, and it’s in small company, believe me. Especially being in an altered state of consciousness while watching it unlocks it in a way that makes it come close to being a different watching experience altogether. While I reckon the same could be said about many movies old and new, happy or sad, impressive or deep, funny or suspenseful, Scott Pilgrim this time made a particular impression on me, even it it wasn’t the first one I watched it while chewing on crunchy bubblegum. For one, I could catch a greater number of the small details, including the trademark visual gags and creative, playful direction that make Edgar Wright one of my favourite people working with film.

For example, when Sex Bob-omb play Garbage Truck and Young Neil is singing along, at some point he mixes up the lyrics: he says “oh no!” instead of “oh my!” This just hit, I can utterly and completely relate… The film is infested with such morsels of genious. Another thing was that I realised that it actually portrays human relationships at the deep, subconscious level quite accurately. Scott’s idiotic behaviour and responses to certain situations not only made sense, they suddenly made me realise that in fact I’ve had the same non-sensical assholey thoughts myself (or better put, thought patters and emotions) I just wasn’t conscious of them when I had them. Scott could be little more than our shadow self dressed in geek, which reminds me of Scott’s encounter with his own Nega Scott… *giggle*

OF COURSE the visualisations of the music and the fights and the special effects AAAH THEY WERE SO GOOD! The battle with the brothers and with Todd the vegan were small audiovisual orgasms!

The first time I watched Scott Pilgrim I wasn’t impressed that much, in fact I was slightly disappointed, but now every time I watch it it’s like a new film I enjoy more and more. Of course the crunchy bubblegum has something to do with it, but what if this can be explained by the simple fact that I’ve actually watched the movie more than just once –  that I’ve given it the time it deserves? It could very well be like with me and classical music or Steven Wilson albums: the first time around, the first time they come in contact with my world, I’m mostly indifferent to them; they don’t make me feel anything special. It’s only after the second or third listen that I slowly become familiarised with them and finally come to love them.

Is, then, the key to the things we love simple familiarity – a dose of the right thing at the right time, with the key difference that sets it apart from other nice things that we don’t end familiarised with that it’s not limited to a single dose? Obviously there’s something more, a hidden ingredient, a pluck at an invisible or intangible string, that helps determine whether you’ll like or dislike something – that much is clear.

I have to ask myself, however: have I forgotten what it means to listen for a second or a third time? I’m afraid that I might have, at least to a certain degree. If love, proximity and the act – or ritual – of setting apart basically derive from familiarity plus something special (but mainly familiarity) then in my eternal and fleeting pursuit of the new, the elusive, the mysterious and the unexplored, in my futile attempts to quench the thirst of infinite novelty that often even ridicule the very concept of familiarity, I might have unknowingly and unwillingly sacrificed proximity, I might have sacrificed love. In analytical psychology terms, maybe it’s time I conquered my Ne to move on to my Si. In INFPs this transition comes later in life, of course, and I’m still not done with my Ne, but maybe the calmness of Si domincance is really what I need.

Well, after this heartfelt little exposition, I guess it’s time to say what I actually did during the day. I am a little bit tired of the pretty colours and the too-deep-for-you words, though, so I’ll leave you with three brief sentences:

• Memrise is simply put incredible.
• To Kill a Mockingbird (tequila mocking beer, like Vicente pronounces it) is not a bad movie, but classic’s just not my style.
• Meeting new people sober (especially if they’re not) feels depressingly pointless.