reading half of Paulo Coelho's Eleven Minutes and watching Pretty Woman is not a very bright idea. it makes people sad.
but then again, maybe i'm just talking shit. coz i have been sad weeks before i started reading the book. just looking at it was already making me sad. for some reason. but i was kinda in the mood to torture myself so i picked it up two days ago and started reading it. i can't believe the receipt states that i bought the book november 20th of last year, and i'm reading it just now. i guess i'm starting to lose interest in books. nah... can't be. almost impossible.
it's making me sad.
because i'm reminded of the person who told me to read that book. that's why i haven't touched until recently.
Pretty Woman was a very good movie. everyone says so. i say so. it's a classic. the first and the only time i've watched it was when i was about... i don't really remember. but it was years ago. it was the typical and-they-lived-happily-ever-after kind of thing. should make the viewers happy, i guess. i wanted to see it again hoping that it will somehow lift my spirits up and have a more positive view on certain things, specifically this little freaky thing called love... or falling in love to be even more specific. and life in general. but strange, it made me feel otherwise.
it made me sad.
because i was reminded of the person who mentioned that movie to me not so long ago, that made me want to see it again. i had a clearer view of that particular scene he told me about. oh well...
the book. the movie. the similarities. the sadness. the bit of confusion that's starting to build up... which i'm afraid will eventually lead to a bit of anger... and i don't know what else.
i've got so much to say. but i'm still picking up the trash. one day soon, i will be able to say it all. one day soon...