Hostel

I’m never going to Eastern Europe.  Ever.  Sure, Hostel is pure fiction but there are a lot more beautiful, not to mention safer, locations in the world where one can spend a vacation.  That and the fact that the story could very well be reality in such an impoverished war-torn country.  

Hostel is humanity at its most cruel, pure and simple.  And it terrifies in such a demeaning way that it sickens the audience not only for the duration of the movie, but even days after.  I cannot count how many times I shifted my weight uncomfortably in my seat while watching the atrocities on the big screen.  Remember how Nic Cage uncomfortably watched the snuff film in 8MM?  That was nothing.

I’ve seen far more worse torture scenes in Japanese cult movies, but those movies were campy at best.  In Hostel, the mood is all too real.  And it terrifies me whenever I think that the entire concept of the movie is indeed possible.  Watch it in the big screen.

More of the same

Until today, when you messaged me on Y!M, I didn’t know how to let you in on this new blog that I started. The usual channels are not secure anymore. Truth is, the girlfriend has access even to my Y!M account and checks it occassionally. So I’m thinking that maybe we should come up with a password so that you’ll know it’s really me. We’ll discuss that some other time.

Like I mentioned, the usual means of communication have been compromised, so much so that I was actually thinking of sending a carrier-pigeon to bring the parchment which contains the caligraphy of the URL of this new blog to you. If for some reason, my identity leaks, I’ll kill myself. Ok, maybe not, but you get the picture. It’s just that it’s as if the girlfriend picked up the sleuthing skills of Sherlocke Holmes. It’s not that I don’t want to tell her how I feel, but I need my space. And there are thoughts that, to me, are too personal to share. I wish she was more like you in that department. I feel that I can tell you anything and I know that you wouldn’t judge me for it.

Still I hesitate at times. You’re not judgmental, true, but what if I feel like writing some lust-filled fantasy that involves me, you, and a bunsen burner? Rest assured, this blog won’t turn into erotica, but it would be fun to have kinky, graphic entries every now and then. I have your permission, yes?

Freedom?

I guess I’m still afraid to admit to myself that I am now free to write even my most personal thoughts. Despite the fact that I know that this blog is now secure, and hopefully will never be found by the girlfriend, I still hesitate. It was such a letdown when she discovered my old blog, since my innermost thoughts were there. She found it at a time when no one knew the writer behind the blog. After the discovery, I felt that it was pointless to keep my anonymity. So what happened? Blogger EBs, of course.

It was all downhill from there. We knew each other now, so we had to be more careful with the things that we write down and publish on the blog. And of course, people could not be helped but be attracted at times, especially since all of us had the same passion for writing. Who am I kidding? Some of the bloggers that I met are hot. I made the mistake of having a sexual relationship with one and I paid for it dearly. I hurt a lot of people, but the one thing I regret is that I hurt my one true love.

I wasn’t thinking of hurting anyone in the process, of course. I didn’t even think of her and maybe that was my mistake. But how can one think of true love when one is overcome by passion and lust? I know I mentioned earlier that having an affair with then was a mistake. Still, I long to have you in arms. The memory us sitting together while hugging you from behind and gently rubbing your thighs is forever etched in my psyche. I still hope for more lust-filled moments with you.

Infracted for the first time

You asked me why I stopped writing.  I didn’t have an answer.  The truth is, I never thought about the blog until that moment when you asked.  I can’t even remember why I stopped blogging.  It’s as if I woke up one morning and there is no blog.  

But there is.  It’s still there.  I’m not going to updated it anymore, but it’ll stay there.  When I’m old and gray, I’ll go back to it and read it.  I’ve writted so many entries about my life.  So many hurtful memories, so many happy memories.  I’ve written entries about you.  

It was once a healthy blog with lots of people eagerly waiting for updates.  

“Were you pressured by your audience?”
“Not at all.”

The truth is, I can’t write without an audience.  I thrive on my audience.  It is their thoughts that keep me going from one entry to the next.  Alas, things got out of hand.  I lost my anonymity and I’ve done things I shouldn’t have.  I lost my freedom.  People who knew me personally found their way into the blog and from then on, I felt censored.  Perhaps that was one reason I stopped.  

I can assure you that it’s not the sole reason.  I have no problems writing about non-personal thoughts.  I could go on and on for months without having to tackle anything about my personal experiences.  But what would be the point?  Yes, I do miss the ability to write freely.  That’s why I started the blog in the first place.  

I really have to thank you, hopefully in person some time soon, for asking the question.  Because I have forgotten.  I have been so busy the past few months trying to make ends meet, that I have forgotten.  And now that I actually took the time to write, I feel great.  I’ve never felt so alive.  I’ve never felt like this since forever.

Thank you so much.