For everything I never said.

...I.need.my.fucking.sleep...

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..support.living.and.un-living.artists..

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..Nightmares.and.Dreamscapes.. ©2009 Schazmyrrh.

NOT TO BE USED, MANIPULATED OR REDISTRIBUTED WITHOUT THE ARTIST'S EXPRESSED CONSENT.

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I finally have a copy of the complete second season of True Blood. I wasn't going to blog further about the series but getting it was a surprise. Impulsively, I wandered the streets earlier in the evening to look for a DVD with the complete second season. I was already smirking to myself at how funny, "Do you have True Blood?" would sound.

The first stall I went to didn't seem to know what True Blood was which all the more made me feel like I was looking for something sinister and underground (pardon my imagination but that's what all this rampant ennui does to one's brain). The storekeeper redirected me to the next booth. The second storekeeper asked me what season I was looking for and briefly left. I pretended to be interested in the other merchandise but what I was really thinking was how I'd convince them to reserve the copy for tomorrow because I only had a couple of coins in my purse . When the shopkeeper returned he first told me they only had the first season. I partly thought it was a relief because at least I didn't have to talk him into reserving me a copy; I was feeling a bit anti-social. But then he was only kidding. I asked him how much it was and he answered that it was only 1 peso. I hoped he wasn't kidding because then I could buy six copies at that rate haha. I went on to persuade him to reserve me the DVD and promised to come back for it tomorrow. He said a couple of things like they didn't do reservations and he didn't believe I didn't have any cash with me. I insisted that I really didn't. And long story short he ended up giving me the DVD. As in he told me I could take it home tonight and pay for it tomorrow or later or I could choose not to pay for it at all. I suggested he hide it instead and repeated that I'd really come back for it tomorrow. But he insisted I take it home and even had the item packed already. Well okay, what else could I do? So I agreed and sheepishly took the package . Because everyone now seemed to be in a happy mood, including myself, I told them I wouldn't pay  for the item. Of course it was a joke.

Thanks to the DVD I'm a tad less dark. I only wish all these sprinkles of happiness would permit me to have better dreams at night.

[I'm still thinking and rethinking whether to write last night's dream here or not]

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"O God, I could be bounded in a nutshell, and count myself a
king of infinite space—were it not that I have bad dreams."

~Hamlet Act II, Scene II

I don't know if it's because of my bout with insomnia last night. Or the instability of the weather. Or all the excitement prior to the insomnia episode. Or waking up to gloomier songs by the Cranberries playing around the house. All I know is that I am not quite myself today. Despair's weighing a little heavier against my back. And I'm pretty much inconsolable when in this disposition but it passes... eventually. I've got things and projects underway. Nothing academic, thank God the semester's finally over. The major projects which I cannot yet mention here (hint: keywords: halloween parties, funeral parties, concerts) are yet to be discussed with an "associate" at a better time. Better time as in more commitment and less unnatural influences in the bloodstream. Halloween's coming, I see. And I finally have an event to look forward to. Two mutually exclusive events actually. I hope that I can attend one of them or I shall be very cross and cranky on Halloween night.

I'm learning to breathe again.

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Image credit: Carmine by Natalie Shau

My breathing these days are notably laborious, deep and heavy. If anyone's willing to sell their respiratory system, contact me.

Seriously, though, I haven't had proper rest since Friday night. If I had an entry solely devoted to Friday, I'd title it "Night of the Hungry." An obvious parody to the event which we'd been so looking forward to attending. Wait, looking forward is an understatement and I'd like to use the 'desire like a forest fire' metaphor again, I just can't get my brain cells to cooperate. Anyway to give you an idea of what I'm whining about, let's just say that one of my companions ditched studying for an exam she was to take on Saturday, I purposely postponed my trip home from Friday afternoon to Saturday morning (swallowing the reality of waking up early despite an expected night of sleepless merriment) and all of us took to the streets disregarding the unpredictability of the weather.

It had rained early the evening and, yes, despite the downpour, we pushed through with the night out. I also brought my umbrella along, just in case the rain came again, and I realized that I was ready to cosplay as Death of the Endless because of that prop. So imagine the three hopeful travelers going to the event venue only to be told that the gig had been canceled/postponed because of the rain.  Well I'll be damned, the streets were as dry as my humor when we got there. Okay, maybe there were puddles here and there but that's not the point. Because the venue was a bar. A closed bar with a front signage of a grinning moon that's becoming a familiar sight, some tables outside, a dim-lit interior and a damned roof to complete the look. Yes darklings, I don't know what the hell anyone's problem is with the rain.

We lingered about an hour and a half while reorganizing our plans. I did not even welcome the idea of going home and sleeping the night off. Another companion, whom we purposely didn't tell of the cancellation, later arrived with a friend. So then there were five of us and in between planning and complaining of the predicament, we decided to get busy with the cameras two of my friends brought along. So the first activity on the night's programme turned out to be a photoshoot.

By about 9.30pm we'd been informed about another show at the other side of town. And, like a swarm of hungry mosquitoes, we went to that other gig. After a brief discussion about whether it was an appropriate substitute we bought the tickets in a blue-lit room and climbed our way up a narrow staircase. The familiar blast of sound and smoke engulfed us then. We claimed a dark corner of the room as ours.

So, for a time, we were contented little suckers occasionally camwhoring, headbanging to sounds we liked, but, more importantly, enjoying ourselves.

By 2.30am we had 'breakfast' at a 24-hour fastfood close to a friend's dormitory and then we parted ways.

Yesterday was a different story. I was at a beach wedding late in the afternoon. Because of some obligations that I had to resolve first, I got short on time and ended up dressing myself during the drive to the venue. I deserve an award for not having poked my eyes out with my eye pencil. Because I lacked sleep and felt rather indignant for being rushed I sulked in the car for a bit and attempted to sleep.

The wedding was something else altogether. There was a short delay because of a blackout. It lasted throughout the ceremony, actually, but it heightened the effect of the candles laid out along the aisle. Then dinner came and I amused myself by creating a poem (the one I posted prior to this entry) and saving it on my celphone. Other notable ordeals included nearly being the 'lucky girl' to catch the bridal bouquet except that I purposely avoided it when it came to my line of sight. I also had a brief stint as a cake waitress and among the many unofficial photographers. Note that I am a cake waitress. I was only there to serve the cake because I loved the cake and I wanted to be helpful but then someone mistook me for a real waitress and asked if there were soft drinks available. I told him bluntly that I only knew about the cake .

But overall and despite not being particularly fond of social functions, I enjoyed being part of the event.

Now, I'm just hungry for sleep and a minimization of activity.

Nightmares and Fairytales follows the travels of a strange doll named Annabelle. In 1140 Rue Royale, Annabelle takes us back to 19th century New Orleans where she is witness to the terrifying secrets and horrors that unfold inside the sinister Rue Royale mansion.

Annabelle is now in the possession of a young girl named Rebecca who has recently moved into 1140 Rue Royale with her aging aunt Victoria. Rebecca's stay in the grand manor unfolds into a tale of restless ghosts, a convent with an ominous secret, a retelling of the house's horrifying past and Rebecca's own family history.
The 6-part graphic novel series was inspired by the grisly murders and atrocities committed by the socialite Delphine Lalaurie in her New Orleans home back in the 1830's (that is a hint of a potential entry coming). This is my favorite story from the first volume of Nightmares and Fairytales. The artwork is beautifully detailed and consistent with the mood and atmosphere of the plot. I have not read about Delphine Lalaurie before this, so the experience was as informative as it was intriguing.

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The weather these days will be the death of me. It's been so warm lately, no, not warm; more like infernal. That and a lot of other things are becoming my little, personal torture devices.

I'm wandering and getting lost again. This entry is not meant to be poetic. But I'm in so much discontent and my thoughts are in disarray that I can't seem to put them all together properly. I hate saying everything out straight anyway... so they'll all have to come in pieces and I'd have to ask you to suffer a little if you try to make sense of them all. I'm thinking too much again. Doubting, fretting and worrying. Oh the woes of being human.

I got tired of seeing the same entry in here... but there's also that usual desperation for an outlet. And I've written all the poetry I can. But in between rereading the poems and posting, I decided that I cannot possibly post them here because they make me feel too naked and vulnerable. I'm still reclusive as a hermit. And this place will have to suffice as a bottle for containing thoughts and emotions that I no longer wish to keep in my head and heart. Yes, cryptic as they might all be. 

I've been speaking in songs and lyrics these days... Something I haven't done (and realize I miss doing) in a very long while. It makes breathing easier, too. 

I haunted the internet two nights ago and spent about an hour googling images of Wednesday Addams from which I hoped to draw inspiration for a cosplay ensemble. I stumbled upon some Alice in Wonderland pictures and, subsequently, decided to post an entry chronicling most of my encounters with the tale in varied forms. This is sort of a follow up to a previous and, rather meager, wonderland post.

American McGee’s Alice: I’ve devoted an entire entry about this game a long time ago. After an accident that kills her family, Alice becomes a troubled young woman and, consequently, finds herself plummeted and trapped in a more sinister Wonderland. The characters, albeit twisted, still hold a charming and rather haunting semblance of their original versions. The Cheshire Cat here, for instance, is Alice’s tattooed ally with the same sinister grin and cryptic advice. I thoroughly enjoyed the plot, the characters are beautiful in all their strangeness and the sceneries are visually captivating. There have been rumors about a sequel and even a movie.




Return to Wonderland: I’ve also hinted about this graphic novel once in another entry but never really got around to elaborate. This adaptation by Zenescope Entertainment passes Alice’s wonderland experience on to her teenage daughter Callie. In American McGee’s Alice, the degradation of Wonderland was the result of Alice’s troubled mind, in Return to Wonderland, the otherworld was already a baleful place to begin with. Wonderland here is teeming with violent monarchs, perverted hatters and a monstrous and, nonetheless, familiar purple-striped cat with an appetite for humans. One of the most interesting things to note in the story is how the plot manages to tie up reality and even history with the Wonderland mythos; but I'll spare you the details lest I spoil you. This comic series, by far, is probably the bloodiest and most twisted version of Wonderland that I’ve encountered but if you can stomach all the jagged edges, Return to Wonderland will just be an amazing treat as all the other takes on the story.




Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland (2010): I have been waiting for this movie since last year. A 17-year-old Alice runs off and returns to Wonderland just when she is about to be proposed to at a party she was attending. So far, the trailer has been visually entertaining with the same delicious strangeness and wonder that I've grown used to in all of Burton's films.

Alice and Wonderland, as interpreted by different artists:

by Jodi Cain

      Bloodlust
      Carrion Crows
      Decay
      The Enchantress
      Fairy-bites
      the Ghost
      the Howling
      the Kraken
      Lycanthropy
      Poison
      Songs of the Sirens
      Vampirism
      the Warlock
      Zombie Bride

The film adaptation of Oscar Wilde's classic masterpiece: The Picture of Dorian Gray.

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Release date: September 9, 2009
Directed by Oliver Parker
Writers:
    Toby Finlay (screenplay)
    Oscar Wilde (novel)

Cast: