restless rustling, the süßlichschwere popcorn smell in the air, residents, past press to kick you on your toes, awkward, possibly with sadistic intent, which I most insinuating not once but when drilling in her heels my feet. Slide over to ram you while your heavy bag even in the face. Although there is a whole array of seats are like little battered scouts lined up that are still free, but for some reason, I assume, at least, there is a reason it must be just these places. Perhaps happy memories attached to them, the first kiss, a particularly artistic nose fountain of blood or a Popcornweitwerfrekord what you find just so beautiful, maybe it is due to a compulsive disorder, perhaps they wanted but only a few people squirm and get rid of their aggression, for foreign feet, faces, before it starts.
It is dark, the curtain opens, commercials, trailers fibrillation and finally appeared on the first flat-ironed actors, women who wake up with perfect hair flutter, not a zerfilzten Bird's nest, and not look like they could have pulled the last night by a coyote a few thorn bushes, like normal people. Ok, as I do. The dialogue is polished, no jolts, no word finding problems and if so, which falls into a similar category as Filmtollpatschigkeit, on the screen well, even this seems cute, little to no Heulfluchen. And at some point it comes in these Hollywoodrosakitschfilmchen there's always this scene in which the impressive music aufblubbert in the background and two überhübschte actors are suddenly see with different eyes, sparkling colored contact lenses suddenly and see two last, what viewers have been the bias knew - that they belong together and collapsed into his arms. The audience then facilitating sigh, finally, these small flash flag strapped it, sometimes a bit of celluloid liquid trickling from his eyes, ah, there will be a happy ending. Everyone is happy. Moooment, not all. Who are you listening "Wow, what a crappy unrealistic," muttered and rolled his eyes theatrically? Oh yes, that was me.
Hollywoodschnulztourette, I liked to call it and I do not mind if this violin droning begins to gather itself, the Oh-Nee-curses in my brain pool, waiting for the kitsch of flooding and the subsequent eye roll flooding. My friends and acquaintances wanted to cure me with a romantic comedy after another heavy by the disorder, but they made it much worse. For a while I was, therefore, because of my Hollywoodschnulztourette, decried as hopelessly unromantic. Now everything is good. No, I have not been overcome. I have changed my friends and acquaintances. And honestly, I really have nothing against love stories, even the Hollywood version, I see from me and on, but only with people who do not find it bad that this überidealisierten romances are not what I mean by love, me labeling them as funny or romantic. That's me that is not, at least not unromantic. Funny? Yes, definitely. We're among us and you do not further betray determined, a bit of romance lies in me, all the hard variety, correctly, the hopeless, but I let it not so often out and if they do, they may only be a windproof mask of cynicism play, the little moon child. Until now.
And now I have you.
you.
And everything is different. Everything happened very quickly.
no choirs of angels, pathetic stuff, but plenty of sparks that I could not initially explain bit and because what just happened, we knew that, I think both are not. But now we are here.
you and me.
And the moon child suddenly has much more space, it can no longer be locked up and I do not even want, I need not hide it anymore. Because you are here now and all is suddenly well.
Not a bit like in the movie, it has quirks, but so it is perfect in my eyes.
I think I am going to the movies again, and when the credits roll, I'll grin happy to see over to you and just say one more thing: "You? Our history is beautiful, or "
" Hm, "You will smile. "And it's not too late."
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