so i guess casablanca was playing at the bedford waterfront last night after all. i had no way there and no one to go with so i watched it in my room from my bed with a mug of hot cranberry juice with a cinnamon stick and some cloves. it's not hard to see why it's on the list of the best movies ever made. it brings to life for me the whole feeling of being trapped in a hot & humid place. it reminds me of the rage of losing a lover when you see the glitter of tears in bogart's eyes and the snarl on his lips. when ingrid bergman cries it reminds me of being torn between an old romance and a new one. it's so beautiful and so dark.