I will see Oppenheimer in a couple of hours at the time of writing. I think I will go see Barbie next week. I am not going to do that thing that the internet is doing. Plus, it’s three hours. That’s more than enough time to spend at the cinema. I haven’t seen a 3-hour film in the cinema since Endgame. I am looking forward to it. I haven’t gone to the cinema in a good while. When was the last time you went to the cinema?

If you can’t tell already, I don’t know what I will write about today. I have had a busy week with, you know, life stuff. Things are looking up; you will be happy to know. I won’t moan about it because that’s what Mondays are for.

We had a bit of a family emergency as I began writing this. Everyone is okay. Life is good. Family is complicated. I was writing this and remembered writing a poem about going to the cinema a while ago. I think it’s alright. It goes like this:

Cinema For Breakfast

The reader is dead

We killed him

Now that I have your attention

What time does the cinema open?

I don’t care if I see cartoon paws

Or I see sweaty grey

In the big smoke

They tell me they have it best

It can be a sad sad place when it is all you have

Popcorn must taste strange in the morning

Sometimes you get the sweet stuff

Sometimes you can’t quench your thirst

If I was the king

I would spend all my days here

I live for adventure

But only if I can sit down

There are no wrong answers

That’s the beauty of it all

The reader read the reviews

He believed them

That’s what killed him

In case you were wondering

Well, what do you know, some fiction. On a Friday, no less. There is nothing fictitious about my love of the cinema. Wish me luck. See you back here on Monday for some good ol’ moaning.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for your time.