So I'm making a resolution to to post on this more often. I mean, why not?
A couple things I want to get off my chest.
1. Secrets
2. Carroll
3. Confusion on behalf of boys
4. World Without End
5. Why the hell I’m up at four in the morning…
6. NPH. Cause he’s awesome.
Although probably not as candid as I want to be. Except for the last one. And the fourth one. But yeah.
So!:
1. Secrets.
Keeping secrets sucks. It really, really does. There are relatively small secrets, like I’m coming back Thursday morning and in time to go to Bear’s birthday dinner! and there are huge secrets. I don’t have a lot of secrets. For the most part, if someone asks, really asks, I’ll tell them. There’s one I’ve told probably only three or four people. It’s not even that big of a secret- but it means a lot to me, and it’s mine to tell. It’s something very very personal and it’s shaped my outlook in life, it’s shaped my opinions on certain things.
One read it in the form of a religious reflection paper.
One fell asleep during my admission, late at night under the stars.
One listened while I was running a fever, a human furnace cuddled up in the couch.
One I told in the daylight, face to face and candidly in conversation.
The last made me nervous, all of them did, but the last was the first time I willfully lowered my guard, when I first saw the reaction- I’ve never been good in front of people and the admission had my heart pounding in my throat (which, by the way, is a contradiction to the word ‘candidly’). As I said, it’s not a big secret, it’s not relatively important. There’s probably one other person I would tell, if they so requested to know. I haven’t kept it from them in malice or embarrassment. There just hasn’t been a moment where it was appropriate.
And the people I’ve told probably haven’t grasped its impact on me. Well, maybe the one who read the paper, for I did explain it quite eloquently; but I don’t think any one of them really understands how it makes me feel. I don’t know if I even know how it makes me feel.
I do appreciate those few being discreet about it.
But I know everyone has a secret like that. It’s impossible not to.
2. Carroll
My York friends make fun of me for going back. They say it’s time for me to move on, and can’t relate because they have no desire to return to their old schools. But what they don’t understand is that there’s good reason for me to go back.
Granted, it is a little pathetic that the question, “Sandy, you did leave, didn’t you?” is warranted in response to teasing about me spending the night in the school, but still- can you blame me?
After someone being such a big part of your life for three years, seeing him before school, during school, and after school for three hours each day- it’s weird that that person suddenly disappears. It doesn’t help that a good chunk of my friends still reside there. Friday was one of the most uplifting, ego-boosting days of my life. It feels good to be wanted. It feels good to see your friends after, in some cases, five months of phone conversations and disjointed facebook messages (I seem to have taken a likening to the word disjointed…)
I don’t regret going. Not one bit.
3. Confusion on behalf of boys.
Argh!!! Maybe my infatuation with NPH, and, you know, AP and, oddly, AR to a lesser degree now, has something to do with the fact they’re unobtainable. Seriously- Gay, Bi, Married- two kids. There’s not a lot of prospect for me in that little threesome. But that’s what I like. Cause at least with them, there won’t be any questions.
4. World Without End – Ken Follett
Amazing book. I’m almost halfway through, but it’s just amazing. You’ve got Cris with her feminine drive, lusting for Merthin but unwilling to make the sacrifice of becoming his wife and therefore submitting to him in the traditional sense. Gwenda, her poor friend who pines after Wulfric, the handsome lad who loses his entire family, his inherited land and his fiancé (who he’s painfully in love with) just because he stood up to the bully Ralph, Merthin’s completely opposite brother. There’s Godwyn, embodying corruption and greed, going to unbelievable lengths to secure revenge, even at the harm of the greater good. Merthin, who becomes a builder and undergoes so many unjust breaks you want to hurl the book across the room.
That’s the beauty in it, I think. Everything that can go wrong for the moral-valuing person, goes wrong. Then things start going right. Then they go wrong again, but they go right. I think it’s my innate desire for a happy ending that makes me want to keep reading. I’m not going to be satisfied until there is a happy ending- but if that’s the case, why do I like Dr. Horrible so much?
Dr. Horrible doesn’t have a happy ending, and yet it’s emotionally satisfying. The consumer in me is happy with the climax and conclusion of plot. You see Billy reverting to the online blog, which was once Horrible’s primary domain while the Horrible aspect of Billy’s personality begins to take over in day-to-day life.
Here lies everything,
The world I wanted at my feet…The irony of that line hits me hard every once in a while. Dr. Horrible’s got the world at his feet, and Billy Boy has what he perceives (perceived to be) his world to be lying, very literally, at his feet. Joss Whedon is brilliant, with his double edged lyrics and depressing love-story ending.
Something inside me breaks whenever I hear Billy saying ‘a thing’ at the very end of the show. He’s become numb to the world, detached in an effort to save himself some torment. Billy boy has retreated inside of Dr. Horrible.
It’s too late to analyze Dr. Horrible anymore… It’s brilliant, nuff said.
5. It’s now quarter to five. I should be sleeping. I’m not. I want to write.
“Mark, she noted, had a tendency to speak out in his sleep, his words often fragmented and rarely comprehensible, but audible. He seemed to have a natural impulse to please- whereas Collins moved about often in his sleep, but always adapted in the end, Mark would cement whatever part of himself Kat was touching, subconsciously leaving it independent while the rest of his body flailed and shifted.
It was from this conclusion that she realized she’d gone almost the entire night without sleep; her body was weak and her mind was weighed down by a so-far lethargic mass of something. Her eyes felt static and it was almost like everything was experienced in a removed manner. It was becoming increasingly difficult for her to concentrate.
A hand was moved. She felt the hand move. She saw the hand move. The connection was made that ‘a hand’ was her hand. It was no longer one fluid motion but a series of disjointed jolts of happening; she realized this when it occurred to her to think about it.”
See- I like it. The last paragraph doesn’t make sense, not much anyways, but no one cares. And that’s the point of it. It’s not supposed to make sense.
Sleep deprivation does wonders for the muse- I didn’t write that right now, but I did write it a little before.
But seriously… I should go to sleep… this is a long enough post… I’m really bent on the idea of writing less, more often. We’ll see how that goes…
P.S. Justin Johnston is going to be Angel for the America Rent tour. How fan-flippen-tastic is that?!
