This Geek

He lifts his head from his hands, bloody prints glistening on his face.

A reflection of dawn light glistens in his eyes as he looks up. He glances at his handiwork that is lying on the floor near his feet.

If madness was a malleable thing, it would be easily visible in his eyes.

He reaches into a stretch, extending his arms, arching his spine, a groan of content escapes his lips as he reaches the peak, his tired muscles flooding with relief.

Confusion briefly touches his face as he pauses for a moment, a fleeting thought gone in a second. His expression brightens as he realizes that it doesn’t matter anymore. He casually steps over the corpse that is slowly leaking blood over the bedroom floor, like a liquid leaking from a cracked bottle, and walks the few feet to the bathroom.

He glances into the large mirror that sits above the basin, and notices the bloody hand prints on his face. He smiles briefly at his reflection then shrugs, as if content with life.

He leans into the shower stall and turns on the hot water tap. He quickly jumps back, avoiding the stream of cold water that emerges from the spout. The mirror beckons him again, and he examines his reflection, as if contemplating whether to shave. His image begins to cloud and he realizes that the steam from the shower has intruded on his few minutes of self-examination.

He sighs, leans in to the shower and adjusts the cold water flow until the hot stream is bearable to his skin. He steps into the blissfully warm water and the blood sluices off his body into the drain, like a paintbrush being rinsed of paint.

He quickly turns the water off and reaches for the towel hanging just outside the stall. He wraps it around his waist as he steps back onto the cold bathroom floor. Smiling at himself in the mirror, he returns to the bedroom, his wet feet leaving footprints on the tiled bathroom floor.

A beeping sound suddenly emanates from the bedroom. The alarm clock. He forgot to switch it off. It beeps for a few moments longer before lapsing back into silence.

He gracefully side-steps the corpse, which might be sleeping, were it not for the tell-tale pool of blood slowly soaking the carpet underneath its head.

He rummages through his closet for a moment before finding the clothes he wants. He dresses himself and begins to knot his tie while whistling brightly to himself.

Fully dressed now, he turns and surveys his domain, his glance overlooking the severely battered corpse of his wife as it slowly begins to stiffen in rigor mortis.

He picks up his car keys from the bedside table, and makes his way downstairs.

Time to go to work.

The Accidental Spy is an HK Jackie Chan film, meaning it is made in Hong Kong.

If you can get your mind around the dubbing, the movie is actually quite good, though some of the action scenes (the climactic action scene at the end of the movie particularly comes to mind) border on the ridiculous.

I can highly recommend this movie if you’re a Jackie Chan fan, however if you can’t handle dubbed movies, skip this one. I found the dubbing particularly distracting at first, but I got used to it after awhile, and since the movie is set in Istanbul for the most part, I kept having the refrain “Istanbul, it’s Constantinople” echoing through the recesses of my mind for the whole movie (Gah!).

An interesting bit: I looked up the movie entry in IMDB, and it says Jackie Chan’s character was called Buck Yeun, but I could swear he introduces himself to one of the characters as Jackie Chan. It was for that reason that I assumed his character in the movie was also named “Jackie Chan”, a bit unusual, but not impossible. Can someone confirm this?

In conclusion, there’s something to be said about Jackie Chan movies. They’re always worth watching, particulary for his trademark action sequences, and I especially love watching the outtakes in the end-credits.

Feelin’ good insofar as I’m not sick anymore (I’m as well as I can get these days) (insofar is a word?) feelin’ not so good as far as my general countenance goes. Don’t know why that should be, though. I travelled the whole way to work without turning the radio on at all (not necessarily the radio itself, but music in general). Now, that’s sad.

I don’t know why I’m feeling so down in the dumps today. I lie. I do know, or at least, I suspect, but I’m not going to go into it here, it’s just a little bit too personal.

Yes, I know, a blog is a supposed to be a glimpse into someone’s life, etc etc blah de blah. But I get to choose how personal I want to get. So there.

Besides, you never know who reads these things, right?

By my reckoning, absolutely no-one reads this particular blog, but that’s ok. I’m not doing this for anyone but myself anyway.

Sounds selfish, doesn’t it?