Dear diary,
The cinema was lit dimly with a sense of uncertainty, my heart pounded from having just found a mouse in my bedroom. I was desperate for anything to quell the pain.
There she was, stylish, a timeless feel to her beautiful robotic eyes-
‘This is shit’ I hear my film-snob boyfriends whispers snap me back into focus. I wave him away like one would a sullen fly, for I only have eyes and ears for this Artificial Intelligent icon.
I haven’t felt this way since I watched Malignant, It’s like seeing Gabriel do backflips off the wall again. Are they related? I wonder as I sip my £5 coke.
She is a modern classic surely? The whole cinema claps and cheers with each kill. Her artistry is refined - it’s like god sent her to me.
I crawl out of the cinema and get a McDonalds…’you shoot me down, but I won’t fall, I am titanium’-
‘NUMBER 13’ I hear my number being shouted. As I sit on my bed munching away at my nuggets, I feel a hunger that I haven’t felt in a long time, and I am thirsty…but not for my coke, for M3GAN the sequel.