Not for the faint of heart.
I'm spending an evening alone in my apartment. The first in a long time and I thought to myself... What better way then to settle into bed with my diet soda, some club crackers and a good movie. I chose a film from the archives that are Daze's dvd collection and popped it in only to have my brain blown out the back of my head while simultaneously recieving my annual enema of life.
I don't know why I never watched American History X before. I've heard it was good. It stars the lovely Fairuza Balk who we all know I love not to mention Edward Norton and Edward Furlong. I guess it's just one of those things that you pass by in the bustle that is life, maybe because you were meant to, maybe just because these things happen, but you over looked something great and that's the point...
I've never been moved so by any film with the exceptions of Sleepers and Boys Don't Cry. I walked in a young white man's shoes tonight as he navigated the twisted alleyways that compose our modern world. I fucked with him, I hated with him, I loved with him, and for a few short hours I became him.
the silver screen rarely touches me the way the written word can or better yet, real life, but tonight, Danny and Derek were real and they were in my room. I know it sounds like the melodramatic rantings of a lonely little white girl lost in a foreign town but you know what, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter that I'm on enough meds to kill a small elephant and that I'm so sick I can't hear out of my right ear. It doesn't matter, it doesn't fucking matter because whatever it takes to open your eyes.... is worth it.
I know this post makes no sense to anyone but myself and I wonder why I'm even submitting it. Maybe just to verify that I was here and that I am real. I'll go back to putzing around the boards dropping witty comments whenever I can think of them and prance back into my "average" life, but you know, whenever I get just a little too big for my britches, and think myself just a little too high and mighty, a film will come along like this one and lay me flat. And that's all it takes to remember that no matter how fucking open you think you are, no matter how many coffee house literary magazines you wear like clothing or a badge of fucking honor, and no matter how hip your friends are,...
You're still a twat. We all are, bumbling around like a housefly after the first frost hits, it knows where it wants to go it just can't seem to make it there. I'll never be half the person I think I am but I'll always be twice the girl this world told me I couldn't be... and that'll have to be good enough... There's nothing more mindboggling than a reality check from the land of make believe (hollywood) but that's what it is and here's where I lay.
goodnight.
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You are right, we are all just twats. If we can though, we should always try to help one another move just a little bit more up on the evolutionary scale. If there were enough houseflys, they could push up that window and succeed.
Oh, and thanks for the fact of the day about trantulas!! I never would have thought about that!