Oh, and in further traumatization of krix: if you want to read the after-effects of my watching "Requiem for a Dream" tonight....read on.

I promise to only freak out a little, here.

Jesus Christ.
Am I supposed to feel like going out and parking my car on a hill of broken glass, putting it in neutral and laying my head underneath the rear tire?
How the hell did they keep people from just running out into traffic straight from the theater?
[::tries to type from fetal position.fails::]
My god - What a great movie. I'm sure I'll have nothing but praise from the heart for the makers and the actors of this film once I've actually recovered from seeing it.
But I don't (won't) want to talk about it.
It's like bungee jumping. I did it once and I'll never do it again.
This movie rubs salt in wounds, I feel like I'm going to throw up.
I refuse to watch the deleted scenes unless someone can guarentee that there's an alternate happy ending in there somewhere.
Art is best when it makes you feel. No matter what it is.
I actually like this.
It's good for me.
I need to scream but I'll wake the cat, and he's such a cute thing when he sleeps.
.....and I need a cute thing right now.
This movie should be mandatory viewing for everyone on the planet.

I just got everything nicely rewired and now I've blown a circuit, dammit.
I need to call someone I love.
Or something.