Frenchified!

L'Ecriture Perdue.

Ok. Je veux poster ceci... mais je ne veux pas que tout le monde le lit. Alors, je vais l'enterrer dans les archives. Esperons que de cette facon, les seules personnes qui vont le lire seront ceux qui sont assez dedieé pour cherchez dans chaque section déja postée.

Mais, parce que ma conscience la demande, je vais sacrifier le monde sans temps ou je vis couremment et trouver/écrire la vrai date... ce qui est ce jour (Dimanche le 17 Juillet), mais un an plus tard.... c'est a dire 2006, pas 2005.

Ughhh. Je suppose que ce ne sera pas une surprise pour les personnes qui me sont proche a ce moment (comme Becca puis ma mere).... mais je tombe pour mon ami. Euhm... un peu plus que ca, meme. Je pense que je peux dire assez surement que j'ai déja trebuché et me suis fait frappé la tête sur une roche .

Je suppose que je suis venu a cette réalization ... Vendredi? Pas sur du jour, en tout fait. Mais avant/proche du temps ou on est allé au Stampede. On se parlait, et comme normale je lui derangeait au sujet de la Conne. Il m'a dit qu'il était finalement cent-pourcent dépassé d'elle. Mais ce n'était pas tout qu'il m'a dit. Il m'a dit que c'était partialement parce qu'il aimait quelqu'un d'autre. Quelqu'un qu'il a connu pour plus d'un an au moins, et qui a été la pour lui pour tout ce temps.

Ah, voila le log.

(1:32 PM) Lui:	il y a une autre femme que j'aime... et beaucoup, en plus.
(1:32 PM) Lui:	et elle n'est rien comme une conne.
(1:32 PM) Moi:	*secoue la tete*
(1:32 PM) Moi:	J'y croirait quand j'le vois.
(1:32 PM) Lui:	fais confiance en moi pour celle-ci
(1:32 PM) Lui:	j'la connais depuis un an et demi, et on est étroit ensemble depuis tout ce temps

Damnation si mon coeur n'a pas fait une pirouette et s'est illuminé en espoir.

(1:33 PM) Lui:	et puis on serait deja ensemble si ce n'etait pas pour l'interférence de mon meilleur ami ca fais pas trop longtemps

Et puis double damnation si mon coeur ne s'est pas mis en petit boule et commencé a pleurnichier quand il a continué a décrire quelqu'un d'autre.

Mais... ouache. Juste... ouache. Je te l'jure, mon coeur était penché par en avant, allant "Oui? Ouiiiiiiiiii?", pendant que mon cerveau disait "MERDE!!! Il n'y a pas d'facon que tu peux te duper maintenant! Regarde ce qu'elle fait, ton coeur!" Et dans cette instant, je voulais tuer la fille de ces affections, même si je ne la connaissait pas.

En plus, il a combattu son meilleur ami pour elle, et pendant qu'ils se battaient elle est allée trouver un autre chum. Sur ce sujet, je dois dire "BON POUR ELLE!!!", mais quand même. Une fille pour laquelle il a combattue son meilleur ami? Peut-on dire "HORS LIMITES"?!? Et doublement hors-limites parce qu'elle est PRISE!! Je m'en fou si elle lui dit qu'elle a des sentiments pour lui. Si elle avait VRAIMENT des sentiments pour lui, elle casserait avec son chum et puis sortirait avec lui, calisse.

Bien qu'elle semble gentille... Je suppose... Ce n'est pas comme si j'l'ai déja rencontré... Et je suppose aussi que n'importe qui serait meilleur que la Conne...

En actualité, je veux vraiment croire qu'elle est aussi incroyable qu'il me dit. Si je dois l'entendre parler constamment de lui-même et une autre femme, bien qu'elle soie au moins une fille incroyable qui ne va pas lui detruire en morceaux.

Ca serait plus facile simplement de la détester.

Vraiment, la situation entiere est incroyablement poche. Comme, il semble que toutes ses amies femelles l'ont déja aime a un point ou l'autre. La derniere chose que je veux c'est de devenir rien qu'une autre dans les masses. Et puis evidemment il me voit comme une amie proche (mais non-romantique), parce que j'ai la chance d'entendre tous les detailles de sa vie romantique, et ses sentiments pour certaines femmes (meme les sentiments purement physiques, si vous me comprendez). Et j'adore cet honéteté. Vraiment. Je ne sais pas si il est de ce facon seulement avec moi, ou si c'est le facon qu'il est avec le monde, mais j'aime entendre l'histoire entiere, et non pas seulement ce qui est approprié.

Mais ca fait quand même mal de l'entendre parlez de chaque autre fille sur toute la maudite planete comme ca. Ca me fait sentir... comme un gars, je suppose. Butch. Assez bonne pour etre amie, mais quelqu'un qui évidemment ne serait jamais un intéret d'amour. Par exemple, cette semaine cinque filles vont lui visiter a la maison pour avoir un session d'embrassage. Ouais, ouais... c'est des jeux d'enfants, mais bah. Merde, jeux d'enfants ou non, je ne serait pas derangé si j'était invitée a participer! Mais non... au lieu de cela j'ai la chance d'entendre comment il est siiiii excité, et comment il y aura une fille en particulier dans laquelle il est tres interressée (mais seulement sexuellement).

C'est juste qu'il y a trop de petites choses que j'aime... J'adore les petits éclats de parole qu'il émitte (même si je commence a parler comme lui apres que j'lui vois... grrr), le facon qu'il sourit, le facon qu'il se met a marcher sans raison partout dans sa maison.... meme ses cheveux en épi et le facon étrange qu'il donne des caresses. Peut-être je suis comme lui et j'ai seulement besoin de quelqu'un pour m'obseder dessus. Mais en y pensant... il pourrait m'obseder dessus a n'importe quel moment qu'il veut...

Et la, il y a Tristan. Je pense que j'ai connu depuis longtemps que notre relation est terminé, même si c'est seulement pour la raison qu'il est trop... straight-edge. Je sais que le savoir que je ne suis pas la même ne lui derange pas... mais j'aimerait etre capable de relaxer, de fumer un bat avec quelqu'un que j'aime, ou même d'etre capable de frigging faire l'amour sans savoir qu'il pense toujours et puis est terrifié au possibilité que je tombe en ceinte. Je sais qu'il m'accepte pour qui je suis... mais je sais aussi qu'il n'est pas carrément comfortable avec.

Et oui... je veux encore ce que j'ai toujours voulu... pas seulement quelqu'un qui m'aime, mais quelqu'un qui est completement en amour avec moi. And ni le SK, ni moi était/est completement en amour l'un avec l'autre. Voyons donc.... Ca fait déja trois semaines qu'il est parti et on a échangé comme deux ou trois emails impersonelles. Whoop dee doo.

Je pense que j'ai seulement besoin d'un meilleur ami. C'est pas pour dire que mes amis ne sont pas excellents, mais ces jours-ci il n'y a personne auquelle je suis super-proche. Personne qui est mon égal, et puis je peux leur parler de n'importe quoi a n'importe quel temps. Apprendre d'eux, et savoir qu'il/elle apprend de toi aussi. Pas de jugement. Et même si on regarde mes deux 'meilleurs amis' en ce moment... J'adore William, mais il juge absolument TOUT. Et Inga...

Je la manque tellement des fois, Inga. Mais je serais encore ici quand la fumée se disperse pour elle, pour prendre un quotation de Avril Lavigne. La vie de Inga est trop occupée pour moi en cet instant, surtout avec la distance entre nous.

Et cela, mes amis, est une grande partie de mes problemes. Il serait bien plus facile si je pourrais voir les personnes que j'aime chaque journée. Liberté. Liberté pour errez ou je veux et puis etre capable de aimer et vivre comme je choisis. Les barrieres dans la vie sont assez difficiles quand elles sont mentales, et émotionales, et spirituelles, sans que le monde physique y interfere aussi.

Il vient juste de me dire qu'il n'est pas sur qu'il l'aime comme plus qu'une amie!

*sourire folle*

Je processe cette information bien calmement.

Je ne devrais pas être si contente...

Toute cette maudite probleme a dissipié l'amour que j'avais pour moi-meme. Je continue a penser que lui est si maigre et moi, je suis si... voluptueuse. Ca me dérangeait avec Tristan aussi. Et toutes ses amies semblent etre des petites choses adorables. Pas trops intelligentes. Energique, comme... et puis toutes interchangeables. Sauf peut-etre Becca et moi. Et voila pourquoi j'était surprise quand il nous a mentionées dans ses Shout-Outs sur Nex. Nous sommes les sortes d'amies que (et ce n'est pas mon intention d'insulter mes amies qui font ca) on utilise quand on nous a besoin, et nous laisse dans le fond quand on n'en a pas. Peut-être on a des conversations serieux par nuit, mais quand la journée vient on ne mange pas le diner avec nous.

Voila une autre raison que je me sense si seule. Comme, Blair dit toujours qu'elle me manque, mais elle ne se rappelle pas toujours de nos temps ensemble sur son page de Nex, et ce n'est pas des photos de nous-deux qu'elle poste. Et Dallis? Il m'appelle, c'est vrai, et viens me visiter... mais chaque deuxieme question qu'il pose a rapport soit de l'histoire qu'il a écrit qu'il veut que je lis, soit de l'orgie que j'ai stupidement mentionée. Même si c'était seulement une blague.

(3:44 AM) Lui:	elle n'est pas du meme type que les autres, je suppose... c'est-a-dire qu'elle n'aime pas tout ce que j'aime, et puis ne veux pas feter et aller folle et etre stupide. elle est different de moi dans quelques facons, mais est quand-meme sans doute magnifique et comme j'ai dit... probablement une des meuilleurs amies que je pourrait jamais avoir.
(3:45 AM) Lui:	je suppose que c'est impossible que ca vient toute en un bon pacquet. c'est un ou l'autre, et la facon des connes, elle fonctionne pas pour moi.
(3:45 AM) Moi:	Hm mais tout ca, c'est des affaires de la tete.
(3:46 AM) Moi:	Que dit ton coeur?
(3:46AM) Moi:	Est-ce que ton coeur sursault chaque fois qu'on la mentionne?
(3:46 AM) Moi:	Penses-toi toujours de elle?
(3:47 AM) Moi:	Quand tu vois quelque chose que t'aime, est-ce que ta premiere pensée, c'est de lui la montrer?
(3:48 AM) Lui:	je pensais d'elle toute ce soir...
(3:49 AM) Lui:	mais elle n'est pas aussi... obsedante que les filles du sorte conne.
(3:50 AM) Lui:	mais quand meme, les connes sont ceux qui ne resteront jamais avec toi. elle resterait. c'est juste que je veux etre aussi folle d'elle que je sentait de les deux dernieres filles... meme les trois dernieres. ugh.
(3:50 AM) Moi:	Hm
(3:51 AM) Moi:	Je suppose que tu n'as rien a perdre si tu sors avec elle...
(3:51 AM) Moi:	Comme, vous semblez etre assez bons amis que votre amitié surviverait si la relation ne fonctionnait pas.
(3:54 AM) Lui:	mon espoir, c'est qu'elle deviendra aussi absorbante que n'importe qui que j'ai aimé avant elle, quand on commence a devenir plus que amis. je n'ai pas passer beaucoup de temps avec elle, en tout cas. peut-etre plus ouvrirait les emotion vrais et purs, peut-etre ca viendrait apres qu'on prend un essai la-dessus. et ouais, non on resterait proche meme si un relation reussissait pas, chui sur de sa au mois.
(3:54 AM) Moi:	Bien, la voila.
(3:55 AM) Moi:	Au moins tu saurait pour certain
(3:55 AM) Moi:	Et il y a toujours des personnes qu'on aime beaucoup mais auquelles on n'est jamais attires intimitement.
(3:57 AM)	Message personel change: "je veux etre folle de Toi.. mais comment ca on est pas de meme?"
(3:57 AM) Lui:	mais elle me attire intimitement.

Je vous jure, avec chaque phrase mon coeur devient encore et encore plus bas. S'il n'est pas sur de ses émotions pour ELLE, c'est quoi la chance qu'il soit jamais sur qu'il aime MOI? Elle semble une veritable déesse, et beaucoup plus de son type que moi. Unhhhhhhh.

(3:58AM) Lui:	c'est juste... les choses en commun, c'est grand chose pour moi normalement. et elle est beaucoup plus relaxe et chill et moi chui plus hardcore et voulant la folie. des fois on veut quelqu'un qui peux rester en pas avec toi et ta facon d'vivre..

EXACTEMENT!!! C'est ca que je veux dire de moi et Tristan. On n'est pas sur la même niveau. Peut-être plus tard, quand on pense de la meme facon, mais pas maintenant. Bien que je sais que nous ne serons jamais sur la meme niveau comme ca, malheureusement. Mais nous serions toujours de bons amis, j'espere.

Je pense que c'est la même situation avec lui et la fillette. Ou peut-etre j'espere toujours... Mais quand j'ai lu ce dernier de lui, j'ai un petit peu pensé que moi... moi je serais un bon balancement de ce qu'il parle... Je ne suis pas une conne mais j'ai quand même les mêmes intérets que lui.

Ou peut-être c'est l'effect d'être conne qu'il aime, et non vraiment les similarités a lui.

Deesse, je dois vraiment arrêter d'obseder. Particulierement d'obseder sur les especes de maudites cons qui ne réalizent pas meme que j'existe. Ou même pire, me voient comme "un des gars".

Hm... peut-être si j'avais un esclave-d'amour pour satisfier mes emotions plus... bas... je n'aurais pas besoin de cercler comme un vautour au-dessus de lui.

Note a moi-même, ajouter "Trouver Esclave-D'Amour" a ma liste de choses a faire.

Tu sais qui-d'autre que je manque? Kurt. On semble a flotter proche et puis loin l'un de l'autre au passage des années. Lui, il est un autre ou je serai la quand la fumée se disperse. Sauf que dans cette situation-ci, sa drogue est testosterone. Et la confoitise.

Hm. Lui, il serait bon esclave-amour, si il ne vivait pas au Vancouver.

Evidemment cette conversation se detruit rapidemment.

Je vais m'en aller me coucher, je suppose.

Lah.

Oh, and by the way...

Girls suck. Guys suck. Relationships especially suck.

Fuck you, and goodnight.

Lah.

Raindroplets.

Do me a favour, all of you, and read this.

The Sweetest Guy Ever.

Weaver - Bah. Bleah. Ugh. Erg. Grr. Fuck. says:

And learning generally entails not making the same mistakes

Weaver - Bah. Bleah. Ugh. Erg. Grr. Fuck. says:

Not making the same mistakes and not caring about them

--- says:

i want to not care, Trust me

--- says:

if theres one guy whos the most sensitive piece of shit about everything, its me.

Weaver - Bah. Bleah. Ugh. Erg. Grr. Fuck. says:

*hugs* well you may disagree, but that's a good thing.

Weaver - Bah. Bleah. Ugh. Erg. Grr. Fuck. says:

Do you know how many fucking zoned out uncaring fuckers are out there? Too goddamned many

Weaver - Bah. Bleah. Ugh. Erg. Grr. Fuck. says:

"You owe it to yourself, you owe it to the world. To care."

--- says:

But who the fuck cares!!!!! DO you know!!! how WELL how fucking AMZINGLY i would treat any special girl who fell for me?!?!?!? do you know how fucking slim the chance of me ever hurting her would be, im not a bonehead. i know what love is, for one, and i would never abandon it, i would never cheat it. i would show up a million of those fucktards i swear it, id show them Exactly how its done cause they dont know how to do shit but look skin-deep at a girl and fuck her then leave her crying herself to sleep. and they call it Love, thats the mass of fucking Guys for you!!!! i hate it, and no one can see how much i am dying to give out anything and everything to one a girl who would just Fall for me and not bail out half way through!! i know how to love, i know how to care. unlike SO many fucking people

Weaver: She doesn't deserve him. Not by far. And he deserves much better than what he has.

Lah.

Another Boy Rant.

Voice: Oh, joy. Boys again. You know, even I get tired of hearing about the boys in your life, occasionally. And boys in general.

Weaver: Just hear me out. At least this time it's not about me and a boy. Rather, it's about a friend (who, at her request, shall remain Anonymous) and a boy. I'm just not entirely sure what to think of the situation. And of course, being me, I want to rant and think about the topic. Besides, it might help her out to at least hear a few different thoughts.

Voice: And lucky me, I get to have the whole thing bounced off of me so that you can figure it out.

Weaver: Right you are! Give the... er... mist... a prize!

Voice: Okay then. So, what's the situation with Anonymous?

Weaver: The usual drama... Basically, her boytoy is going away for the summer. And of course, he chose my birthday party yesterday to talk to her about what would happen to their relationship when he did. It's actually quite funny... Almost everyone there talked to someone else about something important last night. At one point everyone was separated into 'talking' groups with their persons. Including me, but that's another story.

Voice: Stay on task. I want this to be done before you fall asleep.

Weaver: Right. Sorry. Tired and all. Only got a few hours of sleep. And I just got back from work.

Voice: FOCUS!!!

A gust of cool mist abruptly swirls around Weaver, dousing her face.

Weaver: Thanks. Really. Okay. So from what I understand, neither of them is fully sure how they feel about the other. They're kinda opposites and I don't know whether it's a good thing or a bad thing in their case.

But anyways. Let's skip all the possibilities of their compatibility as a couple and get straight to the point. He told her that he wanted to take a break for the summer, since he wasn't going to be around anyways. Reasonable, no? After all, they're only going to be 'going out' in name for that period anyways.

Voice: If so, then where's the confusion?

Weaver: I'm getting there. It's not the whole request thing, but WHY that's so ambiguous. See, the reason he wants to break up for the summer or whatever is because he wants her to be happy.

Voice: I think I speak for everyone when I say... "Huh?" I don't see the connection. Explain further.

Weaver: Okay. I'm not 100% on the reasoning here, but apparently he thinks that 'summer romances can be fun' and such things like that, and he doesn't want her to feel that she has to stay faithful to him when he's not even in the same province as her. When she protested that she wanted to stay faithful to him, and if by some random chance met the man of her dreams while he was away she would tell him, his response was that he didn't want her to feel she had to stay glued into a relationship that was only in name anyway.

Rough translation, in Weaver's opinion: If she can't last two months without having sex with him, he wants her to feel free to do someone else.

Or, the sweet version: He'd rather she be happy with someone else than unhappy and pining for him.

Or something along those lines.

Voice: It doesn't take an idiot to figure that out, then. Two easy deductions: One, he's the one who wants to be free to have a 'fling' or whatever. Two, he's trying to put it in a way that seems like it's all for her sake. Which makes him a cork soaker.

Weaver: Normally, I would agree. In fact, if it were anyone but this particular boy (or maybe Tristan), I most definitely would agree. But she has some pretty good arguments for the home team. For one thing, he's really nice, and probably sincere. Before you say, "Denial much?", let me just say that I agree, for once. I consider both of them to be good friends, and he's a pretty straightforward guy, not to mention a nice one. It's exactly the kind of thing he would do, in fact. This is when our opinions started to diverge. And thus, here's where the rant part comes in.

Warning: This gets a bit harsh. I mean no offense. I love you, dudes!

Anonymous was mostly kinda sad and confused about the whole thing. You know, the typical girl reaction: "Oh my gawd, he doesn't want to date me anymore but he doesn't want to hurt my feelings by breaking up with me he likes someone else he's gonna forget all about me over the summer how the hell will we pick it back up once school starts" etc etc etc. I zoned out after a while, to be honest. Because you know what? Whether or not he's being sincere, If I were in her place, I think I'd probably be kinda mad.

For one thing, what the fuck? Sure, if you look at it the 'sweet version' way, it's a nice sentiment. But either it means that he truly loves her, enough to want to put her happiness far before his own.... or that he doesn't care enough about her to feel supremely jealous at the thought of her with another guy. And even if he does truly love her that much, he still wouldn't be respecting her... or at least not enough to believe that she can stay faithful in that unbearably long two-month absence.

We were talking about this with another friend--

Voice: Let me guess. She wants to remain anonymous, too.

Weaver: As a matter of fact, it doesn't really matter. Unless she reads this and asks me to remove her name too. But until then, for clarity's sake, let's only have one Anonymous, okay?

Right. So we were talking with Becca, who said that her brother once did the same thing to his girlfriend. But aha! There's a twist! You see, as I understand it, her brother knew that his girlfriend had already been unfaithful, and I'm not entirely sure on this one either, but I believe the whole thing was his way of letting her get away with it/seeing if she'd fess up...? Either that or the whole breakup without making it seem like you're broken up to spare the mess.

Voice: Well, has your friend cheated on her boyfriend, in this case? Perhaps the situations aren't so different as you thought...?

Weaver: I'm about 99% sure that she hasn't. For one thing, when Becca told the story it was pretty obvious that the thought hadn't even crossed my friend's mind. Also, she was just as confused as before, so obviously questions were not answered.

Voice: Wait wait wait. A thought just occured to me. Did he want the 'summer breakup' to begin immediately, or when he actually left?

Weaver: It seems great minds do think alike, after all! That's the exact same thing I asked her, and apparently it's the exact same thing she asked him. Unfortunately, he said that he meant when he actually left.

Voice: Why is that unfortunate?

Weaver: For her sake, it isn't. But if he had said 'immediately', then I think it would have been fairly obvious that he was actually doing the mess-avoiding breakup after all. But no! Dammit, why doesn't anything ever have a simple answer?

I'm sorry, but this whole situation just bugs me to no end.

And I seem to have run into the brick wall, finally. All of the lack of sleep and partying and such has caught up to me, because I can no longer think about it. And my head hurts.

Bah on boys.

And bah on girls too.

Bah on everyone.

Except Mr Dearden, because he's using my King Kong entry as an introduction to the Diploma Exam prep on my birthday. As a model essay, if I recall the words of the email correctly...

*feels better*

Gnight.

Lah.

Love And Monsters.

I'm not sure if the comic is big enough to be read. If not, here's the link.

Beware: English Nerd Moments Galore in this Rant. And spoilers, I suppose. Supposing that you know nothing of King Kong.

Recommended Reading: Rose and the Beast, by Francesca Lia Block.

First of all, I didn't know Kong died at the end. I actually kinda did think that he climbed back down or something. True Love prevails and all that. Maybe Ann Darrow stays with Kong. Before I read this comic, that is. It's one of my favourites, nonetheless.

I just watched Kong. The new one, that is. And while I haven't seen any of the others, I am not such a shelled being as to not know the story. Besides, my favourite movie in the world is the Rocky Horror Picture Show. So I've always known it, as most people have, as the ultimate tale of male/female, innocent/violent, ultimate delicate beauty versus ultimate primal strength. Man is the real monster, etc etc.

If you read my blog regularly, you'd know that I have a fascination and abhorrence for taboo. If you knew me, you'd know that I have a fantasy kick. I adore fantasy novels, and the more recent movies. If you really knew me, you'd know that I have a monster kick. Not the same way Becca likes superheroes, but true monsters. Not the human kind. I mean Michael at the end of Underworld kind of a thing. Now, if you really, really knew me, you'd know that all of these combine together to form a fascination and attraction to that which is wholly, purely inhuman.

What makes a monster?

What constitutes love?

Whenever you hear about King Kong, you hear about Fay Wray/Anne Darrow as a representation of the sacred feminine. You hear about Kong's love for her, and possibly her talent of screaming dramatically. Since I was little, I always wondered about more than that. Did she love Kong back? Did she scream because she wanted to escape him? Certainly she must have been afraid. But was she afraid for her fate at the hands of King Kong, or did she fear the machine guns? Did she fear for herself, or for him?

Like I said, I haven't seen any of the other Kong movies. But this one was marvelous. They didn't just turn her into a screaming lady for him to capture and carry around and such. She wasn't a hostage. She went to him, again and again, even when they (all of the large succession of theys) were shooting. She stood in front of him.

The purest of emotions is love. I believe that with all my heart, and the words resonate as an Absolute Truth. Sure, love is the passionate makeout, the risking-your-life-to-save-hers, the winning of the fair maiden's love. But it's also being held safe in the arms of someone stronger (be it man or woman) and being held in return. It may be pure, but it's never simple. Between humans, there's always doubt that creeps in eventually. Little hurts and bitternesses, the occasional fight, and the ability to hurt another person as deeply as one can be hurt.

This is what it means to be human.

But the simplest passions... Not animal lust, but animal love. Beauty and the Beast. I used to stop the Disney version before the end, you know that? Why? Because I couldn't bear to watch the Beast turn back into a Prince. It's the same as watching Anne Darrow go to Jack Driscoll at the end of Kong. He also climbed the Empire State for her, I admit. It was from the inside, through the elevator, breaking through police tape and such. Another symbol. The movie was loaded and loaded with them. He went through human boundaries, the boundaries on the inside, to get to her. Kong forgoed all of that by just doing it the animal way. He grabbed her and climbed. It's too blunt for humanity's subtle poison. They shot him down. The bullets never even went near Driscoll, inside the heart of the building.

I'm not saying that Driscoll's love was less true. Nor were his methods less valid. He used the means available to him. To quote my favourite line in A Man For All Seasons, by Robert Bolt: "God made the angels to show him splendor... animals for innocence and plants for their simplicity. But Man he made to serve him wittily in the tangle of his mind." And so we do. And we outwit ourselves. Perhaps that's why 'monsters' fascinate me so much. Beings that are not necessairily animals, but that contain no 'humanity', as we call it. Why do we deem humanity to be one of the most important traits a being can have? One could say that humanity is a definite motif in King Kong. In fact, one could even state that it's the theme; whether man, in attempting to destroy 'monsters' (i.e. those possessing no humanity) has indeed lost its own humanity and become the true monster.

I say: fuck humanity.

Kong's actions and feelings weren't touching because they were almost human. To call it humanity would be selfish, implying that the ability to love, to feel, are solely human. Are we the center of the universe? Heck no! We're but one more part of a delicate structure, a balance of life. Just because Kong was big, didn't mean that he had to be vicious, incapable of thought or delicate feeling. We often make the mistake of assuming that being capable of building civilisations and destroying other cultures means that we are superior. Capable of intricacies of thought that 'animals' are not.

But that's a completely different essay altogether. Back to the topic.

The simplest moments, in the midst of turmoil and fighting and confusion, are those that create the tangible love between Darrow and Kong. Curled up against one another, absorbing the beauty of the jungle. Sliding around the ice. Even the parallel moment atop the Empire State, where they look out at the concrete jungle below and see the same beauty in it. There's Beauty in the Madness. There's Beauty in the Beast. There's Beast in the Beauty. Don't believe me? Imagine your own people ripping apart the one that saved your life and loved you with all his heart, that you loved in return, and tell me that bitch wasn't angry as all hell.

But in the end, the anger melted away to a pure understanding of the intrinsic nature of not only her own kind, but of animal feelings, 'monster' feelings, as well. Did Kong know that he was going to die, cornered atop the Empire State Building? I believe so. That's what was one of the meanings of the Beauty motif in the story.

"And lo, the beast looked upon the face of beauty, and beauty stayed his hand. And from that day forward, he was as one dead."

I admit that I don't quite 'get' this quote. Perhaps he was dead by human standards, or at least severely weakened by that which we call Love. But was it not a death of the clinging to superficialities? Because once he finds Love, all else fades. He becomes alive on the most basic level. For all intents and purposes, he has found the meaning of life. For what good is life without Love? That's why he climbs the frigging building. To gain those last moments of peace. Of love. Of pure feeling, before the machine guns and complications and basic reality of humanity sets in.

Nevermind. I do indeed 'get' the quote.

And thus, the last line of the film:

"It wasn't the airplanes. It was beauty killed the beast. "

This line pissed my mother off to no end. "Of course it was the [frigging] airplanes!" she yelled at me and the screen. And usually, I would agree, and yell right along with her. But I could understand, a little, that motivation. Kong did not go gentle into that good night, but he was, after all, a creature of instincts. That's what Dylan Thomas was telling us to do when he wrote that marvelous bit of poetry; he was telling them to follow their instincts, to grab onto life with two hands and to not let go.

For all Kong may have known that he would die at that moment, he would not sit and let Death take him. If not for himself, then for Love: it was a last hurrah against those who threatened him and his beloved. But ultimately, he would never have been able to keep Ann Darrow. Not once he had been brought to America; that action was the seal of Doom on their love. Or maybe it was sealed from the moment she chose to go to him of her own free will, back on Skull Island.

I suppose that in a way, the Beast killed Beauty too, because I can guarantee you that whether or not she ended up with Jack whatsisface at the end of the day, there would be times when she was alone, staring out over the sea and seeing a jungle, remembering a monster.

And wishing she had never been rescued.

Lah.

Strange Confusing Post

Weaver: Sorry, give me a second. I've severely distracted. O.O *she stares at a TV screen*

Voice: I thought you didn't watch TV...?

Weaver: Showcase on Friday night is the exception, whenever it happens to be on nearby. Fridays Without Borders are funny, interesting, and despite being mostly chaste, somehow manage to be more sensual/erotic than a full-length porn video.

Voice: Perhaps because they're real?

Weaver: I think that's probably it. They're real-life stuff, for the most part. And this episode of Sin Cities Unleashed is WEIRD. It's all flashbacks from previous episodes.... this one focuses on nudity. Well, good for it! Goes well with my "Dance Naked In The Streets" post, which is all about nudity. Hey. Ashley (the main character in the latter and better two seasons) isn't actually all that unattractive, in a nerdy kind of way. My nerd could beat him any day in the looks department, but then again, I'm biased I suppose.

Voice: I must mention that this post, while strange, isn't all that confusing.

Weaver: Oh, this post wasn't actually supposed to have anything to do with Sin Cities or FWB. It was actually supposed to be a post that I wanted to make so that I could talk over my mind with the Mists, but that I didn't really want people to read unless they really felt they had to. Thus, a confusing and rather strange post. It's... er... deviated a tad from that, I think. But I guess it's for the best, since everyone would have read it anyway and poop would ensue. And more confusion. And possible unhappiness. Luckily, --

Whoops. Commercial over.

Told you it was distracting.

Lah.

Wanted: One Slow Dance

It's a familiar, slow, melody. Already in his arms, her arms move up to surround his shoulders even as his move down to encircle her waist. All of the cliches about slow dances, special moments, and the lack of rythm required to slow dance pass through her head and fade as she looks up into his eyes. The music envelops them, and as it becomes the entire world, she rests her head on his chest. An eternity passes. She glances up, only to find him watching her. They smile at the same time, and she quickly glances back down. Her embarassment fades as the song continues and they rotate in place, forever...

But then she glances up again, only to find that there's no dark room, only grey thick mist. And she's dancing with a ghost.

--

She spins and spins, losing herself in the music, but alone this time. The mist begins to fill the empty space she's spinning in, and when it reaches her body it fills her too. It's a cold, cold feeling, and it numbs her from deep inside out.

When she finally stops, it's a sudden, harsh stop. Nausea abruptly overtakes her, and she reaches to steady herself on him, to anchor herself to what has never been there before: another person, waiting.

But he spins away as she touches him. He begins to glow, but ti's not a comforting sight. He is an alien creature in the mist, and it is rejecting him. It reaches out for her again, this time not slowly taking her over but burying her, smothering her.

She cries, and her tears melt the mist away. Warm arms encircle her, not fantasy arms but real, strong, solid arms. She leans back into him and lets the tears flow.

Dance Naked In The Streets!

Weaver: Although you may be arrested for public indecency, I mean what I said in the title. Follow your instincts, follow your dreams. Love above all things and open yourself to the gorgeous force of Nature. We were created to live! Live, I tell you! Live! And to live fully and naturally. Voodoo, by Godsmack just came on. A song to make you twist your hips, sinuate your body to the music, and lose yourself to the dance. Drop that towel, do it naturally. Lose yourself in the feeling, in the absolute love of the moment. Live as you were meant to be, completely at one with the universe. Be at peace with yourself. VIOLATE PROPRIETY!!!!

Happiness, Thy Name Is Bugspray. Or, The Eyebrowless Wonder.

The sight of Weaver appearing this time is quite a different one. She's wearing a long black lace skirt that swirls around her legs while she walks, complimented by a shorter dress over the top, patterned with orange designs and flowers. Her hair is a blue so dark it appears black. The innumerable silver rings lining both of her ears stand out a stark silver against the darkness of her hair. But perhaps most strange of all, instead of the dark eyebrows usually present above her eyes, there is a pattern of swirling dark lines imitating and mocking the absent hair.

Voice: While curious, I'm also almost afraid to ask what your newfound appearance has to do with bugspray.

Weaver: As it turns out, absolutely nothing. I just happened to be at the mercy of a million bugs when I began writing this entry, and retaliated by coating myself from head to toe in heavy duty Off!, thus happiness. Of course, since I am no longer outside, having been forced to return Brian's laptop to him so that he could (horror of horrors!) work, it's no longer relevant.

Voice: Moving on, then. Although I think that the new look is definitely a nice one, I must ask the reason for the sudden change. It has something to do with the previous crappy mood?

Weaver: Don't assume. Ass and all that. And partly. It was more of a spur-of-the-moment thing. Of course, the dye was over two years old and I've never permanently died my hair a dark colour before... so I didn't know that black dye isn't actually black. I was afraid the dye had expired or something and was going to turn my hair green. Then I considered it to be an interesting prospect, and waited a while longer. Boy, did it work.

Voice: And the eyebrows...?

Weaver: Oh. Those came yesterday. See, I'm sure I've talked about Dallis and all that.

Music plays.

"...Some things you lose, and some things you just give away..."

Weaver: Jack Off Jill's "Strawberry Gashes".

Er... That made no sense to that majority of you, I'm sure. Ask me about it and I'll tell you.

Maybe.

Voice: Can I ask?

Weaver: No. You already know.

Voice: Of course I don't-- Oh.

Weaver: See?

Voice: Yes, yes. Go on.

Weaver: Okay. So now those of you who aren't banging your head against the wall in confusion all know who Dallis is. Dallis is, well... he's strange. And apt to do stranger things when bored. Like shave off half of his goatee, moustache, and both of his eyebrows. And then, when he realizes what he's done, he laughs it off. Lucky dude. Anyways, so he asked me to let him shave off my eyebrows. I shrugged and agreed, figuring he'd forget by the next day.

Voice: I've heard this scenario before.

Weaver: Don't rub it in. As you may have guessed, he showed up at the cafeteria the next day with his face fully shaved (the whole half-half thing wasn't working). He looked like a creepy demon, because his hair is black and really thick, and it framed his hairless face, emphasizing the whole dealio. Not unattractive. Just creepy.

Voice: Back to the whole moustache thing. Errr... wait. Eyebrow thing. Eyebrow.

Weaver: Indeed. Back to the whole eyebrow thing. So he was fully prepared, complete with men's shaving cream and posse of girls that follows him around. I was cornered... And besides, what was the harm? They'd grow back. So off to the girl's changing room we went. And less than three minutes later, I was eyebrowless... and surprisingly not that different-looking. As I grabbed my handy-dandy kohl pencil from my bag--

Voice: You attempted to draw on new eyebrows and instead gave yourself a permanently suprised/angry look?

Weaver: Hardy har har. No. In fact, I did the same thing I did now (albeit a different pattern). I didn't attempt to mimic normal eyebrows. Instead, I drew pretty lace designs where they used to be. Actually, not all that many people have noticed.

Voice: Not that many people have chosen to comment to your face, you mean.

Weaver: Same difference. There are only a few people whose opinions matter, anyways.

Voice: One of whom is your mother. How did she react?

Weaver: Oh, she hated it on sight. Told me so, too. Said I looked ridiculous and stupid and she didn't like it and although it's my face and she can't control what I do to it, she "suggested" that I never ever ever ever do it again. Also, they apparently might not grow back. As is disputed by the stubble I already have.

Voice: For the record, I like it. But are you going to take her 'advice'?

Weaver: Er... I know she will read this... But no. I like it a lot. I'm going to experiment with different looks and different eye pencils. Perhaps liquid and such, so that it doesn't come off so easily.

Voice: Interesting idea. But what about when you don't have the time or inclination to do up your face in the morning?

Weaver: Since I lost my favorite pair of glasses, I have to put in my contacts every morning anyways. It's not much different than that. Besides, this morning I woke up ten minutes before my bus and still managed to do both and make it on time. It's not exactly a time-consuming manoevre.

Voice: If you say so. I can't say anything, I suppose. I have no eyebrows.

Weaver: Exactly, so shut yer yap!

Voice: Not likely. In other news...?

Weaver: Ah, yes. Time to turn the conversation, regrettably, away from myself.

Voice: *quietly* Finally.

Weaver: I heard that!

Anyways. So the day of my last post was also a very special day, although not for me.

Voice: Aha. So you did rig those ducks!

Weaver: Er... No. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. No, yesterday was the day that 70 kids in my school shaved their head for cancer.

Voice: Anyone we know?

Weaver: At least one... No other than... Tristan!

Voice: And you didn't mention this Tuesday... why?

Weaver: Because I was too wrapped up in myself to care.

Voice: Wow. Nice.

Weaver: It wasn't first and foremost in my mind, okay? But now I get to rant and give him and the others the credit they deserve. Shaving your head is frigging harder than it sounds! Hair represents power in many ways, and we don't realize how attached we are to it. Also, it's not a one-day thing. You have to watch it grow back. Slowly. It may take years to get it to the length it was before. It changes your appearance completely.

Voice: So I take it the SK isn't the awesome manly man he was before the shaving?

Weaver: Actually, he was quite pleased to have it shaved off. It was getting long and bugging him.

Voice: He's a special one, alright.

Weaver: Special indeed. And while I liked it better long, it is awfully soft now... Not that I've had the oppurtunity to rub my cheek against it yet. Lack of a private setting and all. Even right after it was done, I only got one quick rub before he went off to do whatever it is that boys do after they lose all of their hair. Pity, though. Can't wait.

Voice: Back to the whole "For Cancer" part. How much did he raise?

Weaver: I'm not sure how much he raised specifically (perhaps he can comment and enlighten us once he undoubtedly reads this), but the school in total raised about 67... thousand. Wow. That's like three or four times what they were hoping. Keira (remember her?), Kathleeen O'Gorman, and Ben (I cried when they turned on the razor... all that gorgeous hair...) also did it. but most shocking of alll...

Voice: Who?

Weaver: David Benson. Yes, he of the long, flowing blond curls. He who, one would think, would be least likely to give a shit about cancer. Him, I didn't merely cry when the razor bit into all the hair. I clutched at Blair and Sam, and stared in horrified fascination and lamentation as all of that beautiful stoner hair fell, lock by lock, to the ground.

Voice: How did he feel about it?

Weaver: Ha. He was stoned off his ass. Didn't give a shit. Said it went to a good cause. He's a pretty prozaic guy. Nothing really fazes him, and that's before the drugs. But in any case, he's still an awesome dude, and I can still barely look at his bald head without flinching.

Voice: At least it went to a good cause.

Weaver: Good cause my ass. I would have donated that amount just to see him keep his hair.

Well... maybe not.

Voice: Didn't think so.

Weaver: Moving on. I'm quite proud of all the wonderful people who gave their hair. Some people had hair down to their backs (like Benson but not as thick or curly) or longer. Alicia and Jordan, the two chicks who organized the whole thing, both look amazing with short hair. They didn't quite get shaved bald, just cut to about a centimeter. Even one of the hairdressers who volunteered their services got hers shaved before we started. Miz Burns, my Drama teacher, who had blond curls almost as luxurious as Benson's, got hers done too. She too only has it cut short (since she missed the actual event, being in Toronto and all). I'm not sure whether it's gonna end up shaved proper.

Voice: Any other interesting shavings?

Weaver: *smiles mischieviously* I wouldn't say shaved, per say. But a couple of male teachers did get people to donate... but it wasn't the hair on their head they were volunteering.

Voice: Please, please don't say what I think you might.

Weaver: No, nothing R-rated. Their legs, it was. Waxed. By anyone willing to pay.

Voice: Wow.

Weaver: They screamed like little girls when it happened.

Voice: I'm sure they raised a lot of money, though.

Weaver: Ooodles and oodles. Wouldn't you pay to wax a teacher's leg? I sure as hell would.

Voice: And that is a beautiful note to end this conversation on, wouldn't you say?

Weaver: Oooh. Got a hot date to run to?

Voice: And who would you propose that I date? That hot cloud over there?

Weaver: *defensively* Hey! You never know!

Lah.

MistWeaver.