Monday, February 02, 2015

Cheshire Cat's Smile

Cheshire Cat's Smile 


Oh that smile
Half moon upside-down
Euphoric yet vile
I bit my lips then drowned

Trapped in treachery
Lost in translation
Everyday I marry
The groom of my illusion







Thursday, November 07, 2013

Sapi directed by Brillante Mendoza: A film review


With the rise of indie cinema to a wide range of audience came a growing production of film noirs, teeming with artful portrayals of  Pinoy realities especially those that ascribed corruption, and more often than not, resort to tragic endings.

In his latest masterpiece Sapi (Possession) Brillante Mendoza was able to subtly infuse that concept of noir into the horror genre. Sapi was, indeed, brought up from his bloodline of works in which he, once again, molded a film with an unconventional stroke, not to mention that Sapi was his very first horror movie.

It was not the horror type that the majority tended to expect. Yes, there were heart wrenching scenes, but Sapi, in the overall, did not entirely mean to scare for it was, perhaps, to showcase the horror that is looming within the media system.

Plot and Characters

The rivalry between the TV network stations, the Philippine Broadcasting Channel (PBC) and Sarimanok Broadcasting Network (SBN), was greatly established during the onset part of the movie when production crews from each channel foraged for actual possession scoops during a heavy downpour.

The film allotted most of its time on the lives of Meryl (Meryll Soriano), Baron (Baron Geisler), and Dennis (Dennis Trillo).

Meryll was the producer of the 'Sapi' episode in SBN. She tended to be desperate and risky, her qualities that would later on, bring about the change of the course of her life. Such qualities of hers manifested right at her first appearance in the movie when she told the driver to course flooded roads.

Meryll was trapped between dilemmas: SBN Sapi episode ratings continued to fall; her superior set an impossible deadline for the actual possession footage; and there was nowhere to get such. Being empty handed and desperate for footage, she sought Baron's help.

Baron was a camera person from PBC whose team had captured footage of the actual possession. He bribed someone inside to pilfer the footage and delivered it to his friend from SBN, Meryll. He was always available as he always had the tendency to be violent.

Dennis was Meryll's anchor who had a very passive character. He would just obey to whatever he had been told to do, which made him very weak and vulnerable to abuse.

The true horror 'possession' in the film had only just began after the airing of the stolen footage that had brought forth mishaps one after another: PBC filed a complaint against the network for stealing a footage property; Flor (Flor Salangga), the case subject in the demonic possession had ran amok and manifested possession once more, after seeing her uncensored video that had bluntly revealed her identity on air.

Metaphors

There were manifestations of snake, cockroach, dog and crocodile, which could, perhaps, represented the characters who ran the entire film. These metaphors were very much akin to the people who compose the media business.

The snake that appeared at the first part of the movie was in the premises of SBN. It could suggest a foreshadowing that there would be someone in the firm who would be guilty of a 'snakeful' doing. As the movie unfolded, it was clearly revealed that the snake was Meryll, who, technically, was the topman of the pilfering job.

On the other hand, Baron could be the cockroach. Being not such a great loss for the network company, he could be akin to a pest, which the company could easily get rid of anytime.

Dennis, apparently, was the dog who would always obey and follow everything that was put down on him. The part when the dog was ran over by the SBN van could mean that Dennis would be dragged into the horror web nightmare of Meryll and Baron.

The crocodile that appeared at the very end of the movie mirrored the media men in higher tenures who could be very greedy in pushing the ratings up. These crocodiles, according to the news, were known for their wickedness and residents were fearful of them.

Reading between the lines

The lives of Meryll, Baron, and Dennis became distorted with which the manifestations were very similar to a demonic possession. They were under a terrifying nightmare of which was beyond superficiality.

Barron was ousted from PBC and started to live in a dreamlike world where he could see himself living in violence with his life, ruined.

On her own accord, Meryll resigned from work  as her hallucinations became vivid.

Dennis retained his job in SBN, allowing himself to be perverted by his gay superior as he had begun experiencing hallucinations as well. Besides of his kind demeanor, he had a sexual dark side which could possibly denote that such act happens in the media proper.

During these times, the horror had also spread to their loved ones which further revealed to the audiences the main characters' personal lives.

Meryll turned out to be a single parent of a daughter. The time when she saw blood coming out from her daughter, perhaps, indicated that in the parallel reality, once the dirty job of a media person is exposed, she would not only drag herself down but also the people whom she has close ties with.

It was then revealed that Barron was a loving brother to a kid, who in the latter part of the movie, was killed by a mind-distorted Barron. Eventually, he committed suicide. These tragic events, perhaps, mirrored how a person could be devastated under such cruel system— how the higher ups just throw away and trample the little people after using them.

Sapi, was indeed, a satirical movie that showed the horrors or 'politics' in the system of media- a media politics that is just as horrible with which some have no idea about.


Thursday, September 26, 2013

Mabuhay Ang Pilipinas of Bor Ocampo: A Film Review




It is as if a habit that if not most, some viewers, by observation, apparently put short films low on the totem pole when being rolled concurrently with the feature films on the big screen.

A film that is beyond superficiality and challenges the kitsches is what I consider deserving to be labelled as ''movie'' that is worth watching and worth recommending regardless of its total running time. As long as it grasps a meaning that extends beyond what the eyes meet, that film is indeed, an excellent art.

The Cinefilipino 2013 short film finalist Mabuhay ang Pilipinas, directed by Bor Ocampo has left tracks of leitmotif for the viewers to ruminate about, that is, wherein the moment when one realizes what the film tries to portray, the only thing that is left to say is, "*insert a big time compliment here*."

The film is indeed a masterpiece that can only be materialized from a critical mind. The concept, perhaps, mirrors the director's love for the country, which sadly, languishes little by little. Within the story manifests the bitter reality that is very relevant to most of the Filipinos today.


Reading what is shown



Looking at it on the surface would seem that the entire story revolves around the parting romance of the couple, specifically, when the man's departure to Australia comes near. Maika, whose character was portrayed by Japo Parcero, is being tacitly forlorn about the leaving of her partner, whose character was played by Bor Ocampo himself, for she knows that there is no turning back for him. She then decides to go back to the spot where they used to hang out, perhaps, to refresh the good memories of their sweet past.  Eventually, the man left her for what he thought of a 'good life' abroad.

Besides of this conspicuous romance, there are mordant symbolism to decipher here.

Deciphering the metaphors

Maika is the kind of a hopeless romantic woman. She longs for love and hopes that she will be left alone. She constantly tries to refresh the good memories despite that she cannot do anything else to make her lover stay. She herself is the depiction of the Philippines who will always be left broken by the Filipinos.

The other main character is the unnamed guy, who is also Mika's lover, represents the metaphor of the Filipinos as a whole. He technically fools Maika for having her believed to a promise he cannot keep.

Digging deeper

Detaching from the literality of the film, it has something to do between the relationship of the Filipinos and their mother country.

Remembering the part where he makes a promise in front of the camera while wearing a full-face of sincerity, he utters the words which Maika believes to be true. In the parallel world of reality, Filipinos make a pact about never leaving the country, but eventually they tend to betray that oath in exchange for the greener pasture they imagine abroad.


This goes the same in reality: the case of the Overseas Filipino Workers (OFWs). To go abroad and be far away from their families is, perhaps, the only option they have. The high hopes of having a better life overseas further press the stigma that life here in the Philippines is directionless.


There is a shot right before the rolling of the credits that certainly catches the viewer's attention: The signage of Philippine's tourism slogan situated at the airport, It's more fun in the Philippines. The slogan can be an unspoken message that there is a tiny glint of hope in this country. However, that tiny bit of hope seems to flutter away with the wind as the plane departs. The signage is left ignored many times as much as many Filipinos fly away from their mainland country.

The short film ends with a comedic epilogue. It perfectly portrays the 'expectation versus the reality; scenario of an OFW. The same man holds his camera and seems to be catching his breath while making his v-log, "As you can see, I'm just relaxing. Enjoying life. This is the life..." Eventually, his employer, an Australian man, approaches and the main character immediately puts down the camera as he begins hoisting up the huge couch.

This, I think, signifies the struggle of the OFWs. That people may think they achieve the 'good life' but it all goes down to the truth that it is not what they think it is and neither easy as it seems.

 The title, Mabuhay Ang Pilipinas (Long Live Philippines), is bluntly satirical. It may seem to be a positive point but it actually connotes the opposite. It speaks about the irony of the entire film. To get this straight, consider this question: Does the salutation 'Long Live Philippines' still apply today despite of its people constantly betraying her?

Reel Pinoy

What makes this film a real good thing is that it is very Pinoy. The director was able to connect with the audience, which marks the big break of Director Bor Ocampo. He was able to relate with the people as he himself experienced working abroad when he studied in Australia three years ago.


Wednesday, August 14, 2013

Pep rally well prepared

“Every year, we try to improve,” claimed the Dean of Student Affairs Rebecca Marquez as the pep rally last Wednesday, August 8 exhibited ground-breaking strategies that maintained the high spirit of the institutional event despite the spurring rain.

The creativity hovered over the St. Scholastica’s College (SSC) field as the pep rally celebration was hosted by the college unit.

 (Co)operation of organizations

The collaboration of the Committee on Institutional Activities (CIA) and the college organizations, including the Art Society, Society of Musicians, College Choir and Association of Athletes, made the pep rally happen.

“So everyone helped out from the general services, to the audio visual center, to the office personnel, to the three coordinator[s] of student affairs. We’ve all helped out make this event possible,” pointed out Miss Marquez.

Situated at the field was the first ever installed Scions souvenir shop, which was one of the gimmicks for this year’s pep rally.

 “Nag-isip yung Art Soc ng mga pwedeng mabenta like tumblers, pins, and wallets,” said the president of Art Society Jiress Ann Romulo as the art organization’s souvenir booth became an attraction to many Kulasa. “‘Tas every year nang mangyayari ‘to [souvenir booth],” she added.

Scions pins were sold for 20 pesos per piece; Scions wallets cost 80 pesos each; and Scions tumblers for 150 pesos apiece.

The presence of the live band from the Society of Musicians and the onstage singers from the college choir performed the Association of Athletes’ theme song, ‘Puso’ of Spongecola, and turned the entire event into a mini concert as the program neared to its end.

“It’s the first [time] na nagkaron ng live band sa pep rally ng St Scho. For me, mas organized siya [compared with the past year’s pep rallies],” said the president of Society of Musicians Joseph Togonon.

“…full spirit [ed] ang athlete[s] natin for this season.Tapos mas lalong naging solid talagang ginawa talaga  yung three units ginawang isa…” [sic] said the Physical Education Department Chairperson Almario Quesada when asked about his remarks about the pep rally.

The Plan B

“Diba ang ganda [pep rally]? Except that you know that constant fear of rain. Yun yung problema. We have to adjust the script because it rained,” added Miss Marquez as she explained the contingency plan for the event.

“But we were prepared for plan b. Gym. So gym is ready. It has tarpaulins. It has the sound system. It’s ready for anytime that we will be transferring,” explained Miss Marquez.

However, the downside of the plan b, according to Miss Marquez, was the gym’s 450 seating capacity that could only accommodate 150 students from each unit.

“That’s only enough for the athletes kung titignan mo yon… but nobody moved when it rained because we all wanted here [field]” she reasoned.

(SSC PEP RALLY COVER)*The published article was in collab with other two writers: http://thescholastican.tumblr.com/post/58148675187/sports-season-officially-opens

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Public Service Announcement on verbal abuse



Production Manager:
Annie Mae Dela Cruz

Director and Editor:
Vladelle Francisco

Casts:
Mykel Montallana
Sheena Galangue

Thursday, August 01, 2013

Porno (2013) of Adolfo Alix, Jr.: A film review

The kind of a movie that slaps the audience with a big question mark.

Like how his Kalayaan brought confusion last year, director Adolfo Alix, Jr. made it again to challenge the audience with his Director's Showcase entry to the 9th Cinemalaya Festival, Porno. The title itself, as obscene as it might sound, attracted viewers whose X-rated expectations were not put in vain. Yes, sex was exhibited right from the very onset of the film until beyond the half of it. But above superficiality, sex was merely the point.

The story circled around the three individuals of the same names, Alex (Yul Servo, Carlo Aquino, and Angel Aquino), whose lives were considered "empty" as they tried to fill them up with something as pleasurable as sex or Porno. But no matter how much they strove to conceal the emptiness within them, their souls kept reminding them of what did they truly long for.

Characters 

Yul Servo was an inmate who strove for his freedom by assassinating a priest but had failed. Given the days outside the jail for his mission, he succumbed to prostitutes. Carlo Aquino was a virgin porn dubber who was tired of his job. He tried to please himself by seducing girls into webcam cybersex before blackmailing them, and found himself in pleasure by masturbating. Angel Aquino was a transgender father and deeply longed for his son who barely recognized him. He busied himself with performing in a gay bar and took pleasure with sex toys.

Lighting

The viewers might mistook the characters as the same person throughout the film. However, it could be noticed that there were specific colors that hovered each one of them. Most of the scenes of Yul were undertaken inside the motel where the color violet was prominent. The color red would always hover Carlo inside his bedroom and during his work. Lastly, the color that represented Angel was as bright as his long blond hair. The differences in lights might suggest that each had different identities.

Symbolism

There appeared supernatural entities that seemed to be inexplicable at first, but further rumination could lead to suffice interpretation.

A glowing dog came out from the same motel room after Yul was shot; a ghost like figure formed in Carlo's desktop before he had a convulsion; and a shadow hovered over the mirror while Angel was weeping. These entities could be the characters' souls that reminded them about the certain parts of their lives which they tried to change, replace or forget, but would always hunt them.

Yul was begging for a 'take two' of the assassination because he desperately wanted to be free. He begged and told Roco that he was going to make things right if he could have that second chance. The dog escaping the motel room represented him as he wanted to escape from the prison.

The story of Carlo's past was not clear, but perhaps he hurt someone in the past which was why the ghost like figure of a girl appeared very outrageous. There was something in his past that sat heavy on his conscience and he could barely take it much longer that he pass out while looking at Sto. Nino during the Novena. It could be his conscience haunting him.

The last was Angel's shadow. Instead of seeing himself in the mirror, he saw his shadow. Perhaps the thought of never to be known and accepted by his son had caused her breakdown. The shadow signified that even though he was able to transform himself according to her sexual preference, without his son, he remains to be a shadow that barely could identify his being.

Indeed, this indie film was very critical that every frame was alive and breathing. It was something that one should not miss this year- a critical story out of porn.


Tuesday, July 16, 2013

This is a video montage about the old way of photo printing.


Monday, July 15, 2013

Clandestine

I have created a universe: two worlds with two realities. Worlds that are neither poorer nor richer than each other. I have given the humans two psyches for each world. Once one sleeps in one world, he enters the other world. As the body from the other world sleeps, the body from the another awakes. This means that one cannot be awake in both worlds at the same time.  So basically, in my universe, there is no such thing as dreaming. Humans cannot entirely live the same lives for the both worlds, but the memories of the two realities are connected. They remain once the humans wake up from the other world to another, except for one thing: when a human dies in one world, his body from the other world will not remember that he died in the other. And in order to balance this, I have created beings called Clandestine. They have the sole purpose to restore the balance of the two worlds. I have created them to remove from the other world what has been lost from the other. One cannot live in one world after he dies in the other world because

I have created two worlds so the humans will not live in one world.

EPILOGUE



The ambiance is the color of a desert during the day when the sun is too hot. Cars turn as ovens, toasting everyone inside. Like the air conditioners, traffic lights have no use. Backseat windows roll down and heads lean outside. Vans, trucks, jeeps, and cabs swarm themselves on the right side of the road. Deafening honks scream, along with the burning gusts of wind passing through the tiny spaces of the squeezing bumpers.

A middle finger gazes out from the dusty red Accord, pointing to a road plumber on the other side of the supposedly wide road. The brown man from the Accord has a thick frowning unibrow that absorbs the grains of sweat coming out from his wide forehead. He breathes hard, in and out, through his hairy nose like an angry bull who sees a red flag. His feet on the clutch and the break. Right hand grips the wheel while the other sticks out of the window. His thick black hair is still uncombed since his last nap. You can see him uttering something. His dry mouth parts a little and moves up and down, rapidly enough to notice his elongated chin forming a cleft. He squints his eyes against the glare of the sun, reflected by the Accord's side mirror. But he fixes his stare towards the man whose grin extends from ear to ear, despite the torture of the sun.

His ironic and wide grin can be compared to a kid who has just been given a present. He is not so young but not too old, either. His arms on both waists, average legs apart and position themselves near the excavated part of the road. His posture exposes the sweat that forms the rounded dark spot on his right armpit through his neon green long sleeve shirt. What makes this brown man in the red Accord so pissed, besides the heat that the afternoon brings, is the man's grin that projects after him.

"You ugly fucking clown! I don't pay my taxes just to feed your stupid lazy ass!" he curses and puts back his exposed hand on the wheel and slowly hoists up his left foot from the clutch and presses his right on the gas after the traffic loosens.

"You fucking better work your ass up...cover that fucking hole and bury yourself in it!"

The man's grin does not fade away. He seems not to hear the mocks of the brown man. Cars begin to move as well as the red Accord, but the man's head follows without wearing off his grin towards the pissed driver. The shaggy-browed man sees the man's consistent grin  through the mirror until he makes a turn. This time, cool air merely enters and meets his face. His temper cools, so as the grains of sweat on his wrinkled forehead dry.

After several minutes, he notices a very familiar man walking on the side street. This time, he wears blue shirt and white jeans. The man with the blue shirt has an average height and torso that matches the picture of another man inside the driver's head. At one point, the new man glances and glares a smile towards the moving Accord and the brown man sees this.

"Fuck those weirdos," he curses once more.

The brown man ruminates for a moment while he heads towards the tollgate. It cannot be possible.

"Drive safely, sir."

He passes the tollgate and reaches for his purse from the back pocket of his pants to get ready for the next. His mind is still on the identical faces of the construction worker and the man with the white jeans.

The confused brown man accidentally deviates the wheel as he tries to grope his purse from the deep pocket.The 18-wheeler truck honks abruptly and stirs away from the Accord. The driver of the red car immediately aligns his wheels back.

The truck drove forward until it was to the Accord's driver's window, "Get your head in the road!"

He takes a deep breath as he waves a hand to apologize for the almost bloodshed he has caused. He slows down as the enormous truck gets ahead of him. As he shakes his head, his gaze strays to the dusty radio. He turns it on and The Police plays, making him forget about the suspicious  men.

...Since you've gone I've been lost without a trace I dream at night I can only see your face I look around but it's you I can't replace...

He sings along until the song ends before he shuts off the radio. The Accord drives along with a speed that belongs to the extreme left of the highway. The other cars within the reach of the rear window move swiftly but apart from each other. Beyond the middle of the way to the next tollgate, he suddenly inhales cold air which is very different from the consistent hard gust of the wind outside. He tries to swallow and clears his throat as he hopes this will help to release the agitating sensation. He rests an arm on the window's sill and leans his head outside while he continues to drive.

From the cold breaths, the uneven sensation now reaches his feet. The temperature is very different from the halved road where he saw the grin. Fuck. He decides to straighten himself up: both fists now hold the top of the steering wheel and his head goes straight ahead. Of course I am driving alone. He doesn't sing in front of anyone's presence. But his peripheral vision betrays him. At first, he refuses to pan his head to the right but he cannot drive this way any longer. He needs the other mirror on the other side to check the cars hasting from behind. This time, he turns his head.

The dark eyes stare as the familiar face now sits very close beside him. The driver starts to flutter his eyes uncontrollably. His panting loosens the grip of his hands on the wheel. He begins to quiver with fright. His heart pounds so fast and so hard, hurting his chest. The driver can't contemplate about what he has to react besides of the involuntary trembling of his whole body. He can't even produce a sound from his dry mouth. The man, who just appears right there, is no whiter than him, but he looks young and alive. The driver can see no emotion from the man next to him. His face was a total blank. He is not alike with the stereotypical ghosts whose complexions are very far to compare with anyone alive. Unlike the driver, the man's face has perfect features. His eyebrows are justly aligned and his nose protrudes perfectly. His eyes are just as black as the night without the presence of the moon and the stars. His lips are moist and starts to part,

 "Two worlds were created so humans will not live in one world."

The car shrieks, rolls, bumps and at last, crashes.

TO BE CONTINUED

Saturday, July 13, 2013

The frustrated magician

My pen is the wand. My words are the magic. As I stroke my hand and paint out the thoughts in my head, each character gleams and every phrase winks at me. They do not say much but I can see your face being sketched by the words my pen pronounces. Page by page, the leaves of my notebook filled with my composed spells turns gracefully from one after another. I may cast the right spells but I wish I know, too, the alchemy of  bringing you to life, for you are only a mere illusion limited to what I can make out of the tricks in my head, magic of my words, and flicks of my pen.  I cry, sometimes, because I make a fool of myself for wanting you so bad. So I try to forget. Then I forget for quite some time. But I always end up coming back through the pages. And my entire memory of you freshens up: the graceful dance of each leaf from one after another, the spells that whisper the ultimate dream of my heart. My magic, again, begins to summon your spirit that warms my face and psyche. And I continue to dream once more, back to the first step of the cycle that never ends.

You are the perfect picture inside my head. The ink of my pen. The treasure of my heart. But you are the masterpiece I can't ever complete.

Sunday, June 30, 2013

Deep cut

There was no explanation behind her smirk, but one thing was for sure- it was vengeance. She was a living dead and the only reason of her very existence was her desire to purge- to murder her killer- before she kills her flesh, the only thing remaining in her being. She was not the same Catarina everyone had known. Her eyes that once had sparkled with delight were through with tears and filled with rage.

It was all grim and humid. The waxing moon followed her behind as she ran through the narrow alley and headed her way to a small lodge where it seemed no lights were lit for so long.

No one was there- no one had seen her, she convinced herself. She glanced at the moon behind and then she hasted inside as if the moon told her so.

She quivered with grudge as the pain from her memory haunted her.

The moon won't let Catarina be out of its sight so the bruises, the wounds, the pain remained unhealed and they were all becoming fresh. She could barely look at herself in the antiquated man-sized mirror which she smashed by her once fragile hands. It was all coming back to her every time the moon illuminated the inside through the window. And seeing her reflection reminded her of Geri even more.

He was the nightmare who stole every good thing from her. The nightmare who raped her. The nightmare who once had taunted her, consumed her and turned her into an outrageous monster.

She unzipped the bedraggled black pouch of pins and needles without interrupting her steady gaze to herself through the broken mirror. There was no going back. She was almost done. The clean white envelope has been labeled with her cursive penmanship "Catarina" at the back. It was placed under the safest spot where it couldn't get tarnished- under her bed. She was carefully watching herself through the spiral reflections made by the mirror cracks. It was taking her so long to retrieve the blade from the worn-out sewing kit, but it was not intentional.

So she hurriedly looked for the blade then immediately cut her neck deep from the left beneath the ear to the other.

Catarina was fixed into her eyes by the mirror as she tried to feel the pain, but she was too numb. There was an unending ooze of blood and the blade could no longer be seen as she thrust it harder into her neck. With a red veil, the blade was a bride walking down the aisle to meet its groom, death. Catarina's white dress was all soaked with the blood that was once pure and was stained by horror. The splatters of blood scattered onto the floor, the bed sheet and the mirror as she gasped coughs when the blood had reached her throat. The blade was beyond halfway through the neck, and before she stumbled down, she had carried out a deep slash to the rest.

"Found her smirking...eyes wide open," the police gossiped.

"And a suicidal note?"

----
There's nothing more I could think of doing but to put an end to this. It's the least I could do for myself, and I was dead anyway. I was being pulled by two evils on both ends and I had to give in to the lesser one. Indeed, I got nothing to lose at all. I died the very time he had gone inside me: he forced me; he ripped me; caged and shackled me inside an unbearable nightmare. I was petrified as he thrust himself a thousand times in me. It was beyond torture and cruelty. In the mirror, I would always see how filthy I had become after Geri had raped me. I lived the succeeding days and nights in a living hell. I couldn't bear it much longer and I thirsted for vengeance. To murder him as he murdered me was the only way I could break the prison where I was locked in. I wanted him to suffer and feel the pain that he inflicted me. "Forgive me." I could have forgiven him if he did not let me live. I was too numb to hear his voiceless pleads as I slowly cut open his left thigh and stitched it back. His blood drained and I felt no pity, like his bulging eyes indulging for lust that night of the rape. My poor dress, I was swimming in a pool of his filthy blood. He should not have spared my life. I was never thankful for it. It was the last euphoric moment of my dead life- "No...Please...n.." I enjoyed pretending to be a butcher as I cut him piece by piece and buried the pig.
----

"Man...there ain't no guy Geri." continued the police.

"What you mean?"

"There ain't no rape, man."

"But the letter?"

"...freakin false stories. All of it. Except the part where she cut herself, I guess."

"...Damn gore"

"damn...all happened inside her head...got physical."