Only in the Movies

I like to indulge myself in the movies. I don't know about the other kids but I've been fed movies since the age of 5. A good weekend with my Nana always had a movie premiere in there somewhere. Whether it was rooting for Beastman or getting goosebumps when the iconic "thump" of the T. Rex left ripples in the water in Jurassic Park or even sneaking into these stupid new cinemas where you can't enter without your "family" without a girl to watch promising but turns-out-its-shit movies like Jumper, the experience was always the same. The lights dim, the reel spins, stupid ads for things I didn't know existed come, the national anthem plays and we're off. And if you missed this and God forbid, the trailers you should just go home because it's just not the same. The beginning credits set the mood for the film and I'm there hungrily eating at whatever the director throws at me. It's surreal.
My favourite genre of movie would be just that: genre films. Genre films have this old school thing about it which I can't place. Maybe it's the B movie buried under the high budget or the way the men are men in film noir but I love them (speaking of B movies, the third canonical Universal Soldier is out and I loved it. Dolph Lundgren and Van Damme are there! Washed out/cokehead's written all over their faces but that just adds to the atmosphere).

But the thing I love most is when something actually happens and it feels like it just jumped out of a movie. It's ironic that it's so real.
So there are different situations, or genres if you will, when it starts to feel like that. There's that romantic/comedy moment or just plain comedy. There's a thriller when there are bombs exploding and snipers are posted on the roof of your school and your friend starts pointing them out using clock hands. Walking straight, without looking up: "Guard, 12 o'clock! Sniper, 5 o'clock! Hot girl, 9 o'clock!" And then there's complete and utter horror which makes you literally piss your pants. There was a letter I mentioned before briefly that came from a state prison in California a while ago, addressed to me. I was excited and I wanted to write back. But then we googled him. And I pissed my pants.


My guy Maldonado here killed his dad and made a stew out of him. He fucking ate his dad! And that is why he's serving his life sentence for it. And he has my address! *this is the point the music from Psycho starts playing in my head*
And I imagined this person to be in for being a drug mule and regretting it and rehabilitating himself for when he gets out, starting life in the US of A. This shit made me want to pop a few benzos and hope to dear God he never gets out. I've had my rough patch with my dad so I tried to understand but this...this is literally insane. it goes beyond the traditional realms of horror and treads on the subject which scares me the most: the human mind gone wrong.
Ever the optimist, I can now safely say that at the least one person finds me delectable.