Tis the season to be wary
In regard to the little weekend 'holiday' we just had, i decided to get a book that would match up to the somber and pious mood of it all. I am currently reading In Cold Blood by Truman Capote, which we all know is an old literary work. This poignant little holiday is making me ponder on loss and death and quite perfectly did i stumble upon this book.
Call me baduy or something, but when I saw the movie Capote (Bennett Miller), I immediately was compelled to read this book. I was horrified by the film's depiction of the murder and is something unsettling for me even just to remember. It could be the fact the murder happened inside their homes and thus got me all wary and thinking of the likelihood of murders to happen in anyone else's. Plus, any death involving young people always produces in me a sore and depressing emotion. I hate the fact that they were nabbed off their future lives. And it irks me more when the act was done without any apparent or reasonable motive (come to think of it, are any murders reasonable? - self-defense aside). I gravely dislike hearing about young people dying and worse, murdered - maybe because I too am young and to certain extents afraid of dying at an early age.
Not to mention, the actor who played the murderer (Clifton Collins Jr.) looks like my sister's boyfriend at the time of the film's release (he's an ex now - a pity - but that's another story). So as silly as this may sound, I ended up sympathizing with the killer and actually felt bad when he was hanged. I rarely cry in movie houses, but this one hit better than any romantic film guaranteed to effect sobs. Come to think of it, I've never cried for any romantic movie. I cry for lost lives. Now you know i care for the human race.
In line with murders, I am also reminded of my aunt who just died a few months back due to homicide. Again that rubbed me towards the same emotion as In Cold Blood did. She was 75 but looked and strode with the vigor and strength of a 50 year old. All of it ended when the killer struck her in the face and head numerous times; leaving her a bloody, unrecognizable countenance and a lifeless corpse. And it had to happen at her own home. When her husband arrived and found her in that condition; the killer, apparently still in the house, strangled him with a rope and gave the same beatings. Only this time, the husband played dead so he was able to survive. Half of his face is ruined now because of that tragedy.
They still don't know who the suspect is but hunches are directed towards their grandson, who ran away that day and hasn't been found. I am clueless on what motive he could have possibly had to do such a thing. Even so, a brave decision has been made to not press charges against him. Of course I'm like "What the Fuck?!"
So there goes my UNDAS celebration - if it should be celebrated. My energies have been focused on lots of murders and killing sprees. How sad is that?
P.S.
All this thinking about loss is making me miss Dors. Did I just say that? But don't worry, it's not the destructive kind. And if you're reading this Dors yes I miss you, but go on and have your happy life. And in that line find no bitterness please. Tis' just the season.
Call me baduy or something, but when I saw the movie Capote (Bennett Miller), I immediately was compelled to read this book. I was horrified by the film's depiction of the murder and is something unsettling for me even just to remember. It could be the fact the murder happened inside their homes and thus got me all wary and thinking of the likelihood of murders to happen in anyone else's. Plus, any death involving young people always produces in me a sore and depressing emotion. I hate the fact that they were nabbed off their future lives. And it irks me more when the act was done without any apparent or reasonable motive (come to think of it, are any murders reasonable? - self-defense aside). I gravely dislike hearing about young people dying and worse, murdered - maybe because I too am young and to certain extents afraid of dying at an early age.
Not to mention, the actor who played the murderer (Clifton Collins Jr.) looks like my sister's boyfriend at the time of the film's release (he's an ex now - a pity - but that's another story). So as silly as this may sound, I ended up sympathizing with the killer and actually felt bad when he was hanged. I rarely cry in movie houses, but this one hit better than any romantic film guaranteed to effect sobs. Come to think of it, I've never cried for any romantic movie. I cry for lost lives. Now you know i care for the human race.
In line with murders, I am also reminded of my aunt who just died a few months back due to homicide. Again that rubbed me towards the same emotion as In Cold Blood did. She was 75 but looked and strode with the vigor and strength of a 50 year old. All of it ended when the killer struck her in the face and head numerous times; leaving her a bloody, unrecognizable countenance and a lifeless corpse. And it had to happen at her own home. When her husband arrived and found her in that condition; the killer, apparently still in the house, strangled him with a rope and gave the same beatings. Only this time, the husband played dead so he was able to survive. Half of his face is ruined now because of that tragedy.
They still don't know who the suspect is but hunches are directed towards their grandson, who ran away that day and hasn't been found. I am clueless on what motive he could have possibly had to do such a thing. Even so, a brave decision has been made to not press charges against him. Of course I'm like "What the Fuck?!"
So there goes my UNDAS celebration - if it should be celebrated. My energies have been focused on lots of murders and killing sprees. How sad is that?
P.S.
All this thinking about loss is making me miss Dors. Did I just say that? But don't worry, it's not the destructive kind. And if you're reading this Dors yes I miss you, but go on and have your happy life. And in that line find no bitterness please. Tis' just the season.