Girl, You'll Be A Woman Soon

We don't do reviews. Because we firmly believe we can never judge another man's work of art. We could never be equipped well enough for that. Things are subjective, we know. One cannot generate a score and draw that dirty line between good and bad. And say. This is that and that ain't this. 

I may be cheap to impress, more often than not, I love what I see than not-love. Though I might pretend the strength of sarcasm because love makes my knees weak, but I keep the margins wide, to err is beautiful. I am forgetting the point I was trying to make. 

Works of art change the way I see. Breathe in and out. And if you know me, you should know that I talk like a maniac for a book that I have adored, more than adored, a movie that don't let me sleep. And this is an understatement. The effect is sometimes toxic, repeatedly addictive, I can't unhook me from what I love, from who I love. The latter is, another story. Anyway

I am in awe of mad geniuses. They rock my world, more, much more than perfectionists. 

Getting back to the point, hold on. I found a movie, another movie, that I am gonna keep coming back to for a long time. It's nothing short of a treasure. Pulp fiction. Every time I watch it, I want to smooch John Travolta right out of the screen. 

Work of art, joy forever. 

PS: Not to be understood otherwise, title is a song from the movie. Google, at your own risk. Disclaimer. yeah, life's full of them.