cinemascreencaptures:

Tribute to the Vengeance Trilogy
Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance(2002)
Oldboy(2003)
Lady Vengeance(2005)

cinemascreencaptures:

Tribute to the Vengeance Trilogy

Sympathy For Mr. Vengeance(2002)

Oldboy(2003)

Lady Vengeance(2005)


David’s Dream Journal I

You’ve heard about it, have probably done it, have possibly forgotten about it a while ago, or maybe still do it everyday. It almost seems like people are a little hush-hush about lucid dreaming (awareness that you’re dreaming) even though it’s pretty well-known and there’s no reason for it to be kept silent. Maybe I just wasn’t invited to the thousands of underground lucid dreaming clubs throughout the country. To someone new, it definitely sounds like something off of a fantasy tale, such as the Scrooge McDuck comic “Dream of a Lifetime.” (Coincidentally has a very similar plot to Christopher Nolan’s “Inception.”) Additionally, Lewis Carroll was said to have been inspired to write Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland after having a lucid dream. There’s also something called OBE or Out-of-body experience, but I can’t even get started with that one because it still BLOWS MY MIND. Seriously, you can do that!? Nonetheless, I don’t think I’ve personally ever had a lucid dream, so out of curiosity I searched for a few instruction sites on how to lucid dream, to which I found very simple day-to-day procedures and methods. However, the most common method I found always seemed to require the use of “dream journals,” which are pretty self-explanatory in themselves. I started recording in my own journal every bit of detail I could remember from my dream the night before. So far it’s been three nights and counting, and as far as dreams go, they haven’t been too eccentric, but still somewhat random at the least. I’m definitely starting to see similar elements in them as I’ve been instructed. The record of my first dream goes a bit like this:

THERE IS NO PLOT!!! :D

I was shooting hoops at a basketball court in a schoolyard (I was making every shot even though in reality, no one would ever pass the ball to me because I’m god awful.) The school was Acacia Elementary, which was where I attended from 2nd to 6th grade. All of a sudden, some kid I found familiar but couldn’t completely identify came up to me. He was furious and ventilating so hard you could hear the air barely pass through his boogers. He demanded to know why I signed up for an Xbox Live account on his Xbox 360 hard drive. I asked him why he seemed so angry about it even though it wasn’t a big deal. Then, he immediately ran off into the distance of the blacktop, sobbing and blabbering “it is a big deal!” and “fucking prick” somewhere in between. From there I began to melt and turn into milk in a black void that started to surround me. Suddenly, I found myself transported to New York City, where I was standing on a sidewalk near the Empire State Building at night with my Dad and a Chinese man. I asked my Dad why we were in NYC and he replied that we were on a business trip with his Chinese business partner. His partner smiled at me and brought out his hand in front of me. When I brought out my hand to shake his, he pulled a fake-out and slicked back his hair, laughing pompously. His appearance reminded me of a mix between my Dad’s Chinese business partner in real life and Hu Jintao. We proceeded to enter my Dad’s car that was parked next to a red curb. As I was opening the door on the left side of the car, a skidding car almost hit me and crashed into a line of people at a hotdog stand and exploded. Hotdogs and ketchup started to rain on us, though I’m not entirely sure if it was really ketchup. My Dad’s business partner shouted something in Cantonese and spat at the explosion. My Dad chuckled and went back in the car. He only drove the car 10 feet from where we were and parked at another red curb, but this time we were right next to the Empire State Building. I told my Dad he parked at an illegal space and he flipped me off. We went inside the Empire State Building and surprisingly there was nothing but a dimly lit and compact room with stained mirrors, 80s weight-lifting machines, torn carpet, and no stairs or elevators. Somehow, my Dad and his business partner were already in their gym clothes when we got in and started working out while I just stood in front of them. The business partner was doing military presses with 90s on each end and my Dad was doing yoga. He was pretty damn flexible. I decided to start lifting dumbbells until I heard the shouting of nearby security officers. I looked into a CCTV monitor that magically appeared in front of me and I saw that security raised spikes from the ground and pierced my Dad’s tires, pinning the entire car into submission. My Dad gets up, along with his business partner, and they began speaking gibberish, which kind of sounded like a mix between Russian and Simlish. We rushed out of the building and my Dad and his business partner were carrying chainsaws. For some reason, the security thought it was necessary to call the entire New York City SWAT Team to take down my Dad for parking next to a red curb. It was still raining hotdogs and “ketchup” and the SWAT Team and police force had us surrounded with armored cars and shotguns. The business partner suddenly disappeared and my Dad fell on his knees with his hands on his head but still holding the chainsaw on his right hand. For some reason on their part, the police force sent the police commissioner himself to apprehend my Dad alone, even though my Dad was clearly wielding a deadly weapon. The commissioner acted like I wasn’t even in front of him and he pulled out the handcuffs. In that same moment, my Dad got up and beheaded the commissioner, whose collapsed on the ground like a rag doll. The entire police force started screaming and panicking like 16-year-old girls and my Dad looked to me and asked me if I wanted a donut. From there, I’m pretty sure I woke up from my alarm clock.

I still think I there are a lot of things I missed out in trying to remember this entire dream, but overall, I hope I can keep up with these “dream journals” until I can actually have a lucid dream. As of this day, I still don’t know where that business partner’s treacherous ass went.

My New Logo Design for Cactus Footwear Inc. (From Left to Right: First Draft & Latest Draft)