2001-07-23 | 6:19 p.m.

Yesterday I saw Bully. I can't begin to express what I felt for the movie. I left rather speechless. Not because it was violent because I've seen worse. But it was just such a vast example of hopelessness. It came down to the fact that every act portrayed in the damn thing was just ruthless.

I literally felt like I needed to read a good book or have my mind flushed out with all the disgust I did see on screen. And what's even more frightening is that the film is based on a real story. Apparently sometime in 1993 in Florida 7 teenagers actually killed their "bully". Well killed isn't really the correct word. More like stabbed, bludgeoned, sloppily beat him to death. Then they dumped his body in the swamp hoping that alligators would get him.

And yeah I went to go watch it because Larry Clark was the director and even though it's a bit rough and gritty I like his style. He being the strange and yet honest filmmaker did bring out Kids after all. I just really didn't expect to leave the Angelika movie theatre wanting nothing more but to go home quickly and take a long hot shower. I felt like I needed to rid myself of the feeling of filth I had felt through the movie. I think at some point during the ride I wanted to throw up. I just don't know if it was because of the movie or just the fact that I'm surfing the crimson wave and I occasionally throw up when I am. I just know that the movie was something that I can't describe. You kinda just have to go watch it and attain your opinion of it because I sure as hell don't have one right now. I might in a few days but right now I just don't want the movie flashing in my head.

Today was just a long, hot day. Inflicted with painful cramps. Yeah joy for me. Damn womanhood. These are the days when I wish I never had to deal with this crap. Of course these are also the days when I wish I were in bed sleeping.

And I know I should go but it's Monday. And yeah itis the 7th anniversary of the establishment. And I don't want to be impolite by not going. After all it is the first place I ever did go out at night here in NYC. It's the first place I felt semi at home at with all the punk rock that played. It's the place that amused me because there is such a strange mix to the crowd. The place where I see so many people sing on the small stage. The place that just feels right. It's Don Hill's. I can't just not go. So I know I should go but good lord am I tired. I know that A and the lad named Spike and his 2 friends are going, and yet...I feel the need to sleep. Profoundly. And yes half of me wants to go there. You know... experience Don Hill's again with all the local people. Laughing, smiling, feeling the kinship with the rest of the Don Hill's crowd that will go to celebrate. And yet...my eyes are drooping already. Backaches. Cramps. (God I'm so fucking old!) I remember there was a time where I would of jumped at the chance to prowl in the dark with A there. She had infact taken me there for the first time after all. But now. Now I realize its Monday and I'm tired and I have work tomorrow and good lord I should go because I owe it to myself and to Don who invited the "old" crowd along. And yet. I am tired. So very tired.

It's a toss up. I still don't know yet. Maybe I will. Maybe I won't.



p r e v i o u s // n e x t