So, Brokeback Mountain, let's talk about it. It makes me sad in my inside parts. Why? Because it's not a good movie, and people are lauding it like it was Wit. Which was underrated, in my opinion. It's just another love story, based on a 50-page book. What sets it apart is that it's between two men. Big whoop. If Ang Lee and the two actors weren't connected it would've gone the way of all other gay movies.

Part 2. I must admit I am jealous. There is a small part, buried deep inside, that wishes I could be part of a couple that loves each other madly. I'd like to avoid gay bashing and let's just say it, cowboys, but I get jealous when things go so sparkly between people on the silver screen. (Keep in mind their situation was shit, not their feelings for each other.) Relationships have a tendency to knock me over and piss in my mouth, yet promise they'll start to treat me better later. Thus, I dislike them, yet are drawn to them.

In sum, Fuck you, Brokeback Mountain.