Not exact matches
Still, there are definitely
moments when
things slow down and you realize you're alone and it
kinda sucks or you wish you had someone to share the experience with... but that's part of the mental challenge.
There's a kind of a drug - addled in the Big Bend country sort of twang to the whole
thing and it feels like it could all go off the rails at any
moment and burst into a hell hath no fury conflagration thanks to some lonely propane tank beside the tracks in some Chihuahuan Hooterville; and boy, that drummer works his ass off bringing the bass sound and everything else he's supposed to do; and boy, they remind me of Ed Hall and a bunch of other whacky late 80s / early 90s Austin bands whose names escape me; and man, this band is awesome in that sort of weird «lets go drop mushrooms in Marfa and look for the Marfa Lights»
kinda way; and whoa, why don't I just shut up and let you listen for yourself?
I'm just throwing my $.02 worth out there...
Kinda like flying these
things for a living - Hours and hours of boredom,
moments of sheer terror
And while there are
moments of blood and guts, they don't feel exploitative (if that's the
kinda thing that turns you off from horror).
Combine constant sexual bombardment and conditioning with copious amounts of readily available alcohol, and a society that is slowly but surely oppressing men's sometimes natural instincts and behaviours during the «normal»
moment, and it's
kinda no wonder this kind of
things sometimes happens in such situations.