Original title: Waking Life
Country: U.S.
Year: 2001
Genre: Animation
Length: 97 '
Director: Richard Linklater
not vote the film: I am happy .... happy because I had a couple of tips on lucid dreaming, because I've seen much of the world around me in mock quest'occidente dream of violence, because the rigidity of the film verisimilitude was turned over and reminded me of the difference between a photograph and a watercolor ...
I think despite the lack of any philosophical smattering viewers of all ages can enjoy this, just not to be bothered by names such as Sartre or Kierkegaard, just do not deal with the film as many of us have done with regard to books school.
unreviewed film, you see, a free mind, not the amount of junk information that often makes it indigestible masterpieces ...
watch it and tell me.
In my hard disk so there is no more room for the story of love between top modelz or the plasma cannon that breaks with the alien asteroids above, the privilege of access to the internet gives me great possibilities cultural expansion and to you too, and make you want to use.
now beats keys on a wireless keyboard but I would look into my eyes and maybe become a cloud on a sacred moment,
Waking Life is one of the few friends I have hidden in a dvd ...
At the next tea together!
Real Life 
All happen to be out of his mind: anger, joy, alcohol, blah blah ...
all in all, blah blah ...
oh, seattle reminds me that I have roots.
I love my friends.
Milonga 
dances a tango with my thoughts, tears
notes are aborted
unarmed
first drops of consciousness itself,
and again I realize that even
contrast and I sank in
crazy decisions made with awe and passion, and I hope
in a dream that will come to save me.
Ants s'adoperano,
elect their queen,
masturbate hidden
while watching the moon and the sea
someone is watching.
We are a man,
a pair of broken shoes ...
A girl and an old
who speak different languages, yet another
unnatural violence and an ashtray overflowing
to be our home, kissing his forehead
left,
the wind blow away the dandruff on your shoulders
and betrayal from your secret
now that the future is certain and this remains dormant
in the folds of her dress, caressing her face left
like dying
and dance with me
with your hair with your nerves,
away from this love in box.
The pansy
sounds of the heart with a bow and a vibraphone
dropped, as
my sadness,
to the delta of the soul and there
becomes a smile.
E 'dead another angel, the devil has run
another committed suicide while two mothers give birth
a pianist's passion and enthusiasm of a soldier;
turbine kicks and then catch
and the look is the sky ,
and the sky is my eyes,
again, right, backward, left forward twice
trampling fingers instead of flowers, canning
noise rather than love.
