|i just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance by fleeing the scene of the accident
||[Dec. 2nd, 2005|02:08 am]
no one of consequence
|||||paul simon - the russian futurists||]|
i know far too many people who have defined themselves by laying down some ridiculously rigid statment and attempting to draw the rest of themselves in relation to it. how quickly it can become that a girl who avoids drugs of all sorts can come to believe that should she ever choose to experience such things, she would no longer be the same girl as before. or, slightly less mormon, when someone has decided that they are going to be "wierd" or at least, make sure to let people know that they are, indeed, "wierd" whenever possible. the type of girl, because it is usually a girl, who does this is always the least wierd, most judgemental person in school. if i were cynical i would say that the bitch just watched donny darko once and decided that it was ttly hawt to be wierd and has tried to incorporate it into their personality, usually forcefully and with little success.
as i tanned my milky skin infront of the blue-white glow of late night television, my mind suddenly lost traction and began to spin, unable to get a firm hold on the insultingly vapid plot and dialogue of whatever godawful crap i was watching. when i finally did find a firm path for my mind to travel upon, i found myself wondering about horror movies. specifically, do movie studios expect me to believe that the intellectually deficient morons who populate those movies have never watched other, similar, movies filled with characters who are very similar in nature and disposition to said morons? when i'm watching the attractive girl wander into the haunted house in which a murderer was tortured to death 100 years ago this day, there is a nagging voice in the back of my head that tells me that i should not be the only person who thinks that that is an unwise decision. honestly, how could they not stop and say, "hey, i saw a movie in which similar events happened to similar people. perhaps we should evaluate their performance and learn from their mistakes?"
seriously, i could make a much better movie than any of that crap designed for semi literate retards.
EXT. IRAQI DESERT - DAY
WIDE ANGLE POV of wide open desert, flat grey sky.
THE CAMERA is running forward, toward a big sand berm in the
distance. There are O.S. sounds: SOLDIER'S EQUIPMENT
CLANKING, BOOTS RUNNING ON SAND. Hear a MAN's BREATHING.
The back of his helmeted head and his uniformed shoulders
APPEAR in the BOTTOM of the FRAME, running. This is TROY
BARLOW, Sargeant, U.S. Army, 25 years old. On his helmet is
a photo-button with a photo of a newborn baby.
Suddenly, on the sand berm 100 meters ahead, an IRAQI SOLDIER
stands. Troy stops in his tracks, out of breath, and stares
at the figure on the berm. The Iraqi flutters a white flag
over his head, then puts it down and picks up a gun. Troy
turns around, we see his face for the first time.
actually, that might just be the begining of three kings and not an original horror movie at all. o well, that was a way better movie than i know what you did last summer or any of that other trash.
"he has betrayed us! we offered him friendship and he attempted to abandon us and steal our friends!" screamed the first pirate. all the others present nodded assent. i felt compelled to stand up and speak, although my voice was soft and often lost in crowds, "but he has made himself miserable without us and is living in a sort of self imposed exile. surely that must count for something?" when i took my seat i was greeted with cold stares all around. "he is a monster, just because he is sorry now doesn't negate his awful crimes. i lost a fine wench to his meddlesome ways." and before i could stand in opposition the crowd present at the meeting became a shouting mob and no words could sway them. their decision was final; the smiling traitor of my dreams would die tonight and the mob would be back in time to watch the thrilling conclusion of saved by the bell: the college years in which zack finally marries kelly. sorry for the spoiler.
if i could go back and remake the world, i would do it one of two ways. i would either make every girl on earth want me to love them all night, or i would make it so absolutely no girls wanted such a thing. sort of like a soldier going to war, it wouldn't be so bad if he knew there was an after life or just a void, because then he could stop worrying about it and get on with his life.
the gravel crunched against itself like the grinding of hungry teeth as i manouvered my travel stained carriage down the bumpy lane. it was an unlikely town to even think of visiting, C would have called me a damned fool, but C was somewhere else when i decided that this place seemed nice. i quickly settled in and made this mysterious village my home. C had still not returned. while it had not been my intention to fall in love with this place, as that was my mistake last time, it could not be helped, and i soon found myself in the unfortunate situation of having grown so accustomed to this place that the thought of leaving was unbearable. i believed that, if i left i would have no hope of ever finding a place with such beautiful sunsets, such fresh water, or the availability of such an easy life. even as the town fell to pieces around me, cockroaches and criminals freely walking the streets, i found that i could no more see them than right the damage that had been done. it was at this moment that C returned to my thoughts. it was as a result of that meddling C that i decided to leave. all the while i feared that i would never see such sunsets or taste such water, or live so easily, but i went all the same. i readied my carriage and prepared for my departure, all the while believing that i was leaving a paradise for some unknown hell with no more villages to stop at. as my carriage was carried further away from town, such thoughts gradually faded from my mind to join the passive anxiety i feel when i lie silently waiting for sleep. some days later i was surprised and at the same time relieved to learn that C had left once again and i was in a new village with deep shadows filling all of its corners. this will be my home, i thought, as i began to fall in love.
i would certainly like to think happy thoughts, like a child righting a flipped turtle or a boyscout opening the door for a baby duck, but at the moment all i can think of is how little i want to reach the next town.
i wish i were more urban. if i were, i would begin most sentences with something like, "it's like the Diceman used you say..." and then follow that up with the secret to drawing a squirrel, the simple way. my life would be carefree and never dull, like running through a tornado made of barbed wire. or maybe my life would be better if i were more suburban. i honestly have no idea, but it's like the Diceman used to say...
i love it when i open a myspace page and i already know what all of the person's friends are going to look like. i met tiffaney again, except this time she has a different name and doesn't think i'm gay. one more reason to choose urban over suburban.
sure, you may all be laughing at me now, but pretty soon you'll have to stop in order to catch your breath.