Kevin Smith,
It is apparently imperative that I write a letter you will most likely never see. If I in fact leave my waning sanity and send it to you, this line would be kept in because that's how I roll.
To being, let's put something in perspective, you graduated high school the year I was born.
Now that that's out of the way, to the meat and potatoes of this little little bit of verbose lovefest. I seriously loved Clerks. The second time I tried to watch it. Funny thin is it's been about two months since the first time I tried to watch it, but something wasn't right with me. I loved the cartoon and had to see where it all stemmed from, and finally after readng Silent Bob Speaks and after watching Robert Rodriguez's first couple of movies I had a better appreciation for 1) modern black and white film and 2) something as box destroying as Clerks.
I have spent the past month of January loving El Mariachi, Desperados, From Dusk Till dawn, Four Rooms and The Faculty and I read his book Rebel Without A Crew which put a whole new perspective in my mind about smaller budgeted films that legally there was no way I was seeing when they came out.
What I have decided I have to say to you is that I have spent my entire evening watching Clerks, about 4 times, and most of the special features from the Tenth anniversary collection that I rented from an independent movie rental place near my college campus. I loved the writing. I loved seeing words that most people don't see much too much further than outside of an English class room or in a dictionary when they're looking for dirty words. The rifts between the characters were hella realistic. That's not near how I talk with my friends, but we can and have gotten into conversations, deep conversations on such a variety of topics that how serious they were when they were talking about the most trite of subjects was one of the things that made it special.
Every group of friends has their topic[s]. It was an interesting peek inside your world, well, the world you lived in when you were about my age [you old fuck :)]and it is always nice to see that the youth of the world do have the love of a good conversation or debate, no matter what age they are. Here, it's that awkward stage between being an adult and being a child. I mean, in my eyes right now, I don't usually think of myself as an adult, and I don't can, truly call myself a child.
What this movie has done was inspire me to take my writing mroe seriously. I don't really want to write for a movie, but like many non-famous people I am interested in meeting some celebs. I'm much more interested in getting my own comic drawn and published, or to become a world reknown botanist. Those are things that make me happy. Comics and plants. What was the point of that, note sure, these things are mostly rants to tell the truth.
I loved Clerks and when I have the chance I'm renting the rest of the flicks from the Askewniverse. It seems to be an interesting place to visit every now and again. I know the rest won't be like Clerks, but I'm sure I'll fall in love with each of them for different reasons.
And another point, I loved Zack and Miri Make a Porno. That was the most interesting romantic comedy I've ever seen. The characters did seem to be the most real and they didn't follow the stereotypic relationship arc as in most romantic comedys. And the set up that they've known eachother for just about the entireity of their lives and they live together is a great set up for why they never slept together themselves. I loved what you did with the characters, everybody. Everything fit into the rules of the world. Every movie world has it's own set of rules, and the rules for Z&M were engaging and awesome.
Jasmine P.
February 28, 2009
February 20, 2009
++Necropolis++ Do or Die
He breath heavily. His body over hers. He looked down, waiting for a signal from her that this was the right thing to do. Her nude body underneath his was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
This is a body he knew from growing up. 19 years they had know each other. As children they showed each other their differences. That was when he first truly understood she was different from him. It was also when he realized that he never wanted anyone else.
She moaned underneath him. She whispered his name. She begged him for more, for him to fill her. He entered her, every thought of the past disappearing as he disappeared into her warmth. Their mouths locked on one another, he could smell her familiar odor that she rarely covered. Any other scent mixed perfectly with hers heightening the arousal he felt around her.
Her voice rang in his ear, he was a slave to her, wanted more and wanted more than that to please her. Her voice pleaded with him, goading his faster, wishing he go deeper.
He worked, he was losing his mind. It was all much more than he thought it would be. He kissed her mouth, her breasts, her neck before starting over. His breathing was ragged as he felt his body release. She cried out moving more on his still frame until she felt her own peak.
Sweet murmurs were shared between the two. She hugged him, kissing him deeply once more. He smiled, burying his face in her chest knowing that his 5 year old self was right, there was no other person for him. It would be a do or die, and there was no better situation he wanted.
Jasmine P.
This is a body he knew from growing up. 19 years they had know each other. As children they showed each other their differences. That was when he first truly understood she was different from him. It was also when he realized that he never wanted anyone else.
She moaned underneath him. She whispered his name. She begged him for more, for him to fill her. He entered her, every thought of the past disappearing as he disappeared into her warmth. Their mouths locked on one another, he could smell her familiar odor that she rarely covered. Any other scent mixed perfectly with hers heightening the arousal he felt around her.
Her voice rang in his ear, he was a slave to her, wanted more and wanted more than that to please her. Her voice pleaded with him, goading his faster, wishing he go deeper.
He worked, he was losing his mind. It was all much more than he thought it would be. He kissed her mouth, her breasts, her neck before starting over. His breathing was ragged as he felt his body release. She cried out moving more on his still frame until she felt her own peak.
Sweet murmurs were shared between the two. She hugged him, kissing him deeply once more. He smiled, burying his face in her chest knowing that his 5 year old self was right, there was no other person for him. It would be a do or die, and there was no better situation he wanted.
Jasmine P.
February 16, 2009
Talent
I'm rubbing my back here for this, but my writing has time after time amazing and surprised me with just how well written things may be, or just how I say things.
The first time I noticed this was when I was proving some point for another and referenced my Flintstone Syndrome journal that I wrote last June or July. I was seriously stopped in my tracks when I read it. The writing surprised me because it was written at a level different from where I was. I mean, I know I'm a good writer, but I never re-read my work aside from a quick skim for major typos or grammatical brouhaha, but I never notice anything like this. I actually had to finish the journal just because I liked what I'd written so much.
I've been thinking about this for about a week off and on, and today I had another of those moments. It was one of those memes that's like '15 things about you' and i said "Death is the ultimate spoiler. Tell me how I'll die and I'll tell you how I'll live"
That just seemed like a poignant message. It was something written in the blink of an eye before, but now, it seems to have that much more weight to it. I don't know how, but I think it's an interesting display of my strength that I don't always feel. Seeing it so blatantly in front of my eyes, it's no wonder that I scare people. Now I seriously need to find someone who can compete with that strength. Match it as a perfect foil, keep it in check.
I dunno. I'm a mite distracted, and I got most of my point here. But this brings up another point of my journals. Some of them are incredibly unfullfilling because I end them when I lose focus. It's like running into a brick wall. But I also know that when I can't focus on them properly, the over all tone changes and then they become both a drag to read and a drag to write.
Anywho, I'll be back here...some other time. I finally have things to write, like about yesterday's tournament, but not now. I should start my paper before the night is over.
Jasmine P.
The first time I noticed this was when I was proving some point for another and referenced my Flintstone Syndrome journal that I wrote last June or July. I was seriously stopped in my tracks when I read it. The writing surprised me because it was written at a level different from where I was. I mean, I know I'm a good writer, but I never re-read my work aside from a quick skim for major typos or grammatical brouhaha, but I never notice anything like this. I actually had to finish the journal just because I liked what I'd written so much.
I've been thinking about this for about a week off and on, and today I had another of those moments. It was one of those memes that's like '15 things about you' and i said "Death is the ultimate spoiler. Tell me how I'll die and I'll tell you how I'll live"
That just seemed like a poignant message. It was something written in the blink of an eye before, but now, it seems to have that much more weight to it. I don't know how, but I think it's an interesting display of my strength that I don't always feel. Seeing it so blatantly in front of my eyes, it's no wonder that I scare people. Now I seriously need to find someone who can compete with that strength. Match it as a perfect foil, keep it in check.
I dunno. I'm a mite distracted, and I got most of my point here. But this brings up another point of my journals. Some of them are incredibly unfullfilling because I end them when I lose focus. It's like running into a brick wall. But I also know that when I can't focus on them properly, the over all tone changes and then they become both a drag to read and a drag to write.
Anywho, I'll be back here...some other time. I finally have things to write, like about yesterday's tournament, but not now. I should start my paper before the night is over.
Jasmine P.
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