This is just one giant and epic story as is, but at the same time, I don't need it all up there taking my entire page over, so here are the last two chapters as written 5 years ago. Chapters 1 and 2 can be found here. There, you can read my whole overly long and kind of unnecessary preamble to the story. a PWP where it got a plot and never any real porn...Yeah, if I'd ever gotten to the sex it totally would have been validated, I mean, ...well, read it and maybe one of these days I'll explain it to you. :)
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He Plays for the Other Team
DAISUKE ICHIGO
:Summary: The trials and tribulation of two college students as hey find out more about their true selves. Ronnie, the younger girlie-boy and Brian the older tan skinned mystery, together they learn a lot about themselves. (I suck as summaries, please don't hate?)
Moving In
While Brian slept in his arms, Ronnie thought back over the beginning of the year, trying to remember if anything like this had happened before. Absent mindedly petting Brian's hair, Ronnie shifted through the memories. Remembering non, he carefully climbed out of the bed and went into the common room to see if anybody else was there.
Looking at the couch, Ronnie saw Liam and Pailu playing some fighting game while Harold, Kirk's roommate, cheered Pailu on. Going over to the couch, Ronnie flopped down to watch the game, absentmindedly paying attention after saying good morning to the other boys. Letting his worried mind wander, hoping that would relieve it of the stress it had felt, he remembered the first day he had walked into Duzel Hall.
Ronnie stood in the elevator carrying one suit case and pushing a box with some manuscripts on the ground. On the fourth floor, he kicked the box off and followed it to cell blue. Pressing his thumb against the ID pad next to the door, Brian waited while it scanned the print, before admitting him to the cell. The door opened revealing a large living room, with light blue walls. There was a couch and television on the left , and a small kitchen area to their right. There were four doors spread out around walls of the room, each with a number painted on the blue, in white paiLookLooking at his assignment card, Ronnie headed to the door labeled with a three.
The room Ronnie entered had two twin beds on opposite sides of the room, the head boards facing opposite walls. There were two desks, one by the window, the other by the door, and a large double closet that had a divider in the middle to separate the roommates clothes. Theor wor was wooden planked, and it had appeared that no one had claimed either side of the room yet, making Ronnie the first person there. Ronnie decided that he wanted the bed on the left side and dropped his stuff on that band and the desk by the window. Heading back down stairs via elevator, Ronnie made tow more trips in which he brought up his computer, a lap top, a boom box for his mp3s, more clothes for the cool northern us fall, and some posters that one of his friends had made of his characters.
Heading back down stairs one more time, Ronnie brought up one last bag of clothes and his television, even though there was one in the common room, he wanted one in his room so he could watch what he wanted without bothering to many people. On his way inside, he saw a spiky brown haired boy getting on the elevator with another brown haired boy, this one's hair was longer, and e was taller then Ronnie, but not my much.
Seeing the doors to the elevator about to close, he called out, "Hey, wait, please hold the elevator." The shorter brown haired boy pushed the 'door open' button for him, as he finished crossing the room. In the elevator Ronnie put his television on the floor, but kept his duffel bag shouldered. As the doors closed he looked both boys over saying. "Thank you for holding the door."
"No problem, which floor are you on?e tae taller boy asked as the elevator began to move.
"Four, I'm in blue, I've already been up a few times," Ronnie said directing his reply toward the taller boy, his eyes more focused on the shorter one with the spiky hair, "but I didn't wan to wait for the other elevator, these things are so fucking slow." Committing both faces to memory, Ronnie then introduced himself to them, "I'm Ronald Kir III, but most people call me Ronnie.
"I'm Brian and this is Damien, the RA." The spiky haired oy said extending his had for the other boy to shake. "I'm also in cell blue."
"Nice to meet you, Ronnieamieamien said also shaking hands in greeting.
The elevator stopped on the fourth floor, and Ronnie led Damien and Brian to blue, vaguely hoping that Brian would be in his room. He continued on two dorm three while Damien hung back by the door with Brian as they figured out which room to take his stuff.
"Room three," Ronnie heard Brian say as he left the room to volunteer to help Brian with the rest of his stuff.
"Cool, were roommates," Ronnie said as he opened the door to their room.
Damien put Brian's computer on the desk nearest to the door, seeing that Ronnie had claimed the other one already, "See ya guys, I gotta go."
"Bye, tanks for helping," Brian said dropping CDs on the floor by the desk. "Hey, Ronnie, would you mind helping me bring the rest of my stuff up here?"
"Sure, no problem," he replied hiding his glee about sharing his room with such a cutie. "It's not going to take me long to unpack, so okay." He said as if weighing his options. "So, how old are you? When's your birthday?" he asked once they were on the elevator, trying to break the uncomfortable silence.
"May, 30th, I'm 20 right now," Brian replied as they rode back down the elevator. "You?"
"November 17th, I'm turning 20," Ronnie replied as they reached the ground floor and went to where Brian had left his car.
At the car the boys picked up more bags before they headed back up to their dorms. It took them three more trips to get the rest of Brian's stuff. On their last trip up stairs they passed another boy lugging three heavy bags to their dorm building.
"Hey, you," Ronnie called slinging shifting his box of what looked to be Brian's handwritten stories to resettle it more balanced, "do you need some help?"
"Me?" the short black haired boy asked turning to who who wasstiostioning him. "Nah, I'm fine, but I might need some getting in." he said blushing sheepishly.
"That's alright," Brian said balancing his box in one hand to press the ID pad. "Which r arr are you on?" the three walked into the dormitory.
"I'm on two, cell green, dorm 1," he replied heaving as he leaned against the elevator wall. "I'm Pailu Frank, most people call me Pai."
"Hi Pai, this is Brian and I'm Ronnie," he said indicating to each of them. "We're roommates on four, cell blue, dorm 3."
"I'll have to come up sometime," Pailu said as the elevator stopped on his floor. "Good luck this year," he waved as he dragged his stuff off the elevator, down a green hallway.
As the doors closed Ronnie sighed thinking about how hard his junior year was going to be. "So, I meant to ask this sooner, what's your major? It looks to be writing, but I could be wrong."
"I'm a screen and stage writer." Brian said tapping the box Ronnie had set at his feet. "In that box are some of my older plays." Brian smiled, "I used to be big, back in the day in that foreign place called high school. My major is in English, play-write to be exact, but I'm hoping to get my name in lights, somewhere. I plan on traveling if I don't do any good in the States." The elevator stopped on four, and they walked to blue. "What's you major?"
"I'm majoring in writing, novels not plays, and my minor is in acting." He replied as they walked into their common room only to find three other boys on the couch. "Yo," Ronnie waved.
"Hey, I'm Liam, Liam Elda." A tall lanky looking fellow said straightening from leaning over the back of the couch. Liam wore his light brown hair cut short, red on its tips as it spiked away in the back. "I'm in yellow, dorm 4, I was helping Mickey here, he's in dorm 1."
"Yo, I'm Michael Dower, like Liam said, I'm in 1." Michael was sitting on the couch, a box in his lap with controllers to a PS2 and game jewel cases. "Which rooms are you in?"
"Son of a bitch," a fairly high for guy's voice erupted from behind the television. A small, mousy frame emerged, his brown hair grayed with dust, two electronic cords in his hands. Looking at Ronnie and Brian he started blushing in embarrassment. "Sorry about the out burst, I'm Kirk, Kirk Magyar. Dorm 4, my roommate isn't here yet, but it's early, only 2," extending his hand, both Brian and Ronnie accepted introducing themselves.
Ditching Brian's stuff in their dorm, the boys went back out to the common room to see if they could help Kirk, Michael and Liam. Ronnie flopped into the comfortable sagging couch on Michaels right side, Brian on his left. "Hey, Mousy, Kirk, do you need any help?" Ronnie called correcting himself before Kirk could pull himself from the tangle of cords to glare at him.
Kirk huffed with exasperation, "I'm fine, but you'd think an electronic major could put together a simple video game system, it's like damn." Dropping the wires, Kirk backed up from his place behind the television, "Ronnie, Brian, can either of you put together a PS2?"
"I had one," Brian said getting backup and going behind the TV. "Somebody, turn on the TV and change the TV input," he ordered while he fiddled with the cords Kirk had dropped in disgust. Ronnie cut on the machine and switched the video receiver to input. The screen automatically changed to a dark picture with a floating memory card and game CD. "There, that was simple enough."
"Fuck you," Kirk said growling as he stalked off toward his room.
"Don't mind him, he's just stressed because of moving in and the fact that he had to drive over half the States just to get to Ishtar University," Michael explained as Kirks door closed with a mechanical whirl.
"So, anyone else hungry enough to eat the pissy one?" Ronnie said, relieving the room of the tension that Kirk's explosion and moving in had caused.
"I'm game," Liam said as he headed toward the door out of blue, "just let me get my 'Pissy Bitch Killing' sword."
The three boys laughed as they followed Liam to his dorm in yellow on the other side of their floor. The yellow dorm looked just like the blue one, except this one was covered in yellow paint. The common room also had a television, there was an X-Box plugged in underneath it. On the yellow doors the numbers were painted on in black, white wouldn't have been seen. Liam went to his room while the other three just stood by the door and waited
"It's like being a banana," Ronnie said gray eyes wide open in shock as he stopped in his tracks.
"Scary, I'm out," Brian said backing up before Liam started back out from his room.
"What's wrong with the three of you?" Liam asked, giving his new friends an odd look as he crossed the common room to leave.
"Your dorm is scary as a bitch," Michael said as he tried to calm his face.
"Pussy," Liam said under his breath as he pulled the three stunned boys out of his common dorm and back toward the elevators. "Let's just get some food, there's pizza place two blocks over that I went to a few time last year."
The other three boys fell out of their stupors as the thought of food passed through their minds, reminding them why they'd left the safety of their cell and saw the fright of Liam's. On the elevator, all three boys form blue let out breaths so hard, Liam's hair moved with the breeze.
"Damn you guys are pussies," he said running his hands through his hair, putting it back in place.
"Shut up, Liam," Ronnie said smoothing his hair as the door opened on the second floor, Pailu came entered the elevator, totting two other boys, also from green. They were also going out to lunch, so they decided to go in a big group and then return to Duzel Hall to eat.
"Hey, Sara, Kelly, Lynn," Ronnie waved as a car full of girls slowed o drive with them. "What's up?"
"Sup Ron?" a blonde girl asked, she was in the shot gun seat. "Nothing, just out for food."
"So are we, wanna come back to Duzel with us?" Liam asked leaning against the car as it stopped.
"You guys having a party or something like that?" a brunette asked rolling down her window.
"More the 'something like that' Lynn," Ronnie said laughing, "so, you girls coming?"
"Yeah, we'll be there," Lynn replied as the car started rolling forward. "We're gonna pick up a few more friends first."
"Cool, one of us'll be waiting for you, in about ten minutes, iight," Ronnie said waving as they drove off.
"So, Mr. Smooth, who were they?" Brian asked elbowing Ronnie as the boys made it to the pizza place.
"Some friends, I was in a small play outside of school with Sara, the blonde one." He replied shrugging it off as the others made joke about his answer. "Lynn and Kelly were at the cast party, they were a part of the crew, that's all"
"Yeah, right the crew," the other boys joked infuriating Ronnie as they finally got to the pizza parlor.
"Whatever," Ronnie said brushing them off again as they waited for their order.
In the parlor, Liam went up to the counter and ordered three supreme pizzas, three pepperoni and three cheese pizzas for everybody to eat before he sent Pailu and Vic to the store next door to get drinks.
On the way back, Brian volunteered to take the girls up to blue but the girls were already there, waiting outside with two other girls who were introduced as Jane and Kel, a red head and a brunette with green tips. The whole group piled into both elevators and went up to blue, where Kirk was angrily pounding away at his collerller in a fighting game. Looking up to see what had made all the noise, Kirk saw the group of boys and a few sparse girls come in with food and drinks and gave up on the game and joined the fun.
Ronnie sat on the bar counter near the kitchen while Liam mixed drinks for everybody. While the night wore on, Damien and his girlfriend passed through, they played a few games and chatted with most the students there. Other people came and left, Pailu left around nine with on the the girls that Sara and Lynn had picked up for the time being.
Around one in the morning, Brian and Ronnie were elected by everybody else to buy more food and drinks, so they left, their pockets full of monetary donations to pay for whatever they bought.
Ronnie lead the way, once they were outside, to his blue-black 2152 Liger, one 5 years old, and it still ran like it was knew. Ronnie looked over at Brian who sighed like he was an old, stressed out man, concerned he nudged him, "Hey, Brian, what's wrong?"
"Hnn?" Brian asked looking at Ronnie through half lidded eyes, "Nothing, just a little tired from moving in, staying up till one drinkin', y'know."
"I know just what you mean," Ronnie said running his hand through his free hair as they waited at a red light in silence. "Hey, can you go into the glove compartment to find me something to tie up my hair?" he asked as the light turned green and he pulled away.
"No prob," Brian replied digging through the glove box looking for a ribbon or scrunchie for his friend. "Found one," he said sitting up as Ronnie pulled into a 24hour grocer.
"Thanks dude," he replied pulling most of his dark hair out of his eyes with the scrunchie Brian had found. "Lets go, maybe we can get them drunk and they'll pass out soon."
"Don't life my spirits, you cruel, cruel boy," Brian joked as they started filling a shopping cart with chips, beer, and frozen pizzas. Paying for their food, the two returned to see what kind of mess their common room was in.
Back in the common room the boys saw thn thn their twenty minutes gone, the group had mysteriously grown. There were another four girls there, and the other three boys from a different Hall altogether who hadn't been there earlier in the day.
"Well, I guess our dreams of getting any sleep tonight have been dashed against the windshield of Liam's 'Pissy Bitch' killing sword'" Ronnie said as he dropped his bags on the trash littered counter.
"I have one question about your statement," Brian said opening the last cold drink from the fridge as he sat down next to Ronnie.
"And that is..." Ronnie prompted, looking across the group waving at people who's attention stopped on him.
"Which one of us is the 'pissy' one and the 'bitchy' one?"
"I think you're the pissy one just for asking that dumbass question, dumbass." Ronnie replied opening one of the beers they'd just bought, taking a long swig before looking at Brian. Thank god I'm a good drunk he thought, glad his secret was safe. "Later boy, I'm gonna see who's winning the game," he said as he slid off his chair and moved through the crowd like somebody practiced at it. Saying hi to people he knew, Ronnie dropped to the floor in time to catch the controller as whoever had just lost threw it up for grabs. Looking to see who his opponent would be, Ronnie settled in and fought, barely winning the best 2 out of three as the party continued for hours.
"Hey, Ronnie, you've been asleep for a couple of hours, why don't you go back and check on Brian," Kirk said kicking Ronnie lightly in the shin. Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, Ronnie pulled himself up and returned to his bedroom to see how his sick roommate was fairing. Pulling his hair out of the tight bond his scrunchie had created, Ronnie pressed the Id pad and the door lifted, admitting him in.
Letting his eyes focus to the darkness of the room after the door closed, Ronnie looked toward the clock the bright numbers showed him that it was just about seven in the evening. Sighing, thinking that Brian had slept long enough, Ronnie slid back into the bed and lifted Brian so that is head rested in Ronnie's lap.
"So, do you think you've slept long enough?" Ronnie asked, running his hair falling over both shoulders, framing his face. Gently pressing his palm against Brian's forehead, Ronnie started to get up, saying, "Your fevers gone down, but I don't thin's g's gone just yet. I'll call Ryan and have him make some soup for you, that should help.
"Neh," Brian said reaching out and grabbing the bottom of Ronnie's shirt so keep the younger boy from leaving. "Don't go, stay with me."
Ronnie's gray eyes looked into Brian's green eyes, seeing the longing for comfort there, and returned to the bed, he sat back down on the bed and held his friend, petting his head again, like he had before. Brian relaxed back against Ronnie again, breathing deeply again, his eyes wandering around the room, resting on the clock for a moment, before looking back up at Ronnie's face.
Ronnie, closed his eyes, still petting Brian's hair when he felt his roommates hand land on hi cheek startling him. Opening his eyes, Ronnie saw something there, he saw complete love and trust in his eyes. Bending, Ronnie pressed his lips over brains, but he kept his eyes closed, unsure of what Brian would do, until Brian gently pressed back. Ronnie hugged Brian close before letting him fall asleep again, comforted and protected in his lap.
Ohh, that was, tedious. Okay, I thank all of you for not complaining that this chapter was almost an exact copy of the last, because, it basically was, but after this, all new info will be provided! Soon I will post what makes this story worthy of being posted on this site, but I'll probably have to change the M/M listing at the beginning and stuff, that's going elsewhere in my head, and I wasn't all to sure what to put there in the first place. Thanks for reading and I'll be posting again soon, hopefully.
Sorry, but after this chapter, my postings may take longer because I'm going back to school. This chapter and parts of four were written during the summer, so I posted more or less often. I will try to post something like once every other week, so please forgive if you don't see any new updates from me to often. It's not that I'm not working, it's just that I don't have the time to sit and type for hours.
D. Ichigo
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Chapter 4
HE PLAYS FOR THE OTHER TEAM
DAISUKE ICHIGO
:Summary: The trials and tribulation of two college students as hey find out more about their true selves. Ronnie, the younger girlie-boy and Brian the older tan skinned mystery, together they learn a lot about themselves. (I suck as summaries, please don't hate?)
Two last disclaimers, I apologize for keeping you away from the reading this long. I don't own 'Anxiety" this was written by the Black Eyed Peas and I'm not making any money off of using this song, it just seemed so perfect for then. it's on Elephunk, track 12 for those of you who want to hear it. rem remember, no hate because I don't own it. I (also) don't own 'Where is the Love' either. Just borrowing it. Only own one copy of the CD it's on. It just spoke out, and I can't think of anything else to put in here that wouldn't be complete garbage. Or, it would be good, I just don't have the lyrics or the time to find the lyrics for said song.
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PONDERINGS
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Sunday morning Brian woke up feeling much better then he had all weekend. He also awoke to the feeling of strong, not so female arms wrapped around him, hugging him against a flat, not very female feeling chest, that also felt quite bare, just like his. Opening his eyes, Brian saw the blinds pulled down and closed against the weak morning sun, and he saw his bed, un-slept in across the rug of his dorm room.
Fighting to stay calm, he struggled to remember why he was in Ronnie's bed, and not his own, and then he remembered he had been sick the day before and spent most the day asleep in Ronnie's bed. Blinking, he wondered why Ronnie just hadn't slept in his own bed, instead of sharing the thin twin bed with him, and he wondered why Ronnie just hadn't put him into his own bed.
Sighing at all the unknown answers floating around his head, Brian tried to gently move Ronnie's arms so he could get up, his bladder painfully full, but just as he pushed against Ronnie's arms, he felt Ronnie hold him closer, mumbling something that Brian couldn't hear.
Rolling over, Brian looked at his red headed roommate, feeling somewhat drawn to the clear skin so near his own. Fighting the urge to pat his face, Brian thought [What the hell? Why in hells name am I trying to pat his face? I'm straight, not a queer, so why am I attracted to him?] Studying Ronnie's face, Brian's thoughts continued to race. [I thought he already had a boyfriend, so why are we sharing a bed?] Brian felt the grip on his slender waist loosed a bit and rolled over, his face warm from its odd thoughts. [Would it be so bad if I did love him or if he loved me? He is nice, tall, makes me laugh. He sure as hell has taken care of my sad ass often enough these few months, considering I had mono in September, strep in early October, and I had a head cold around Halloween, leaving me bed ridden with fever and coughs. Because I couldn't leave, every time he was nice enough to go and get my homework, so where does that leave us?]
Forgetting about his bladder, Brian continued thinking, [I would be much worse off if Ronnie wasn't so caring and nice. He's helped me develop my ideas for some of my English writings, and there was that time I dragged him out to 'Escape' and he saved me from that chick's deranged boyfriend, I woulda been long gone if I had to go up against him.] Brian thought laughing a little, causing Ronnie to move from the slight movement. After the younger boy stopped, Brian let out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding and his thoughts continued. [But he's a boy, I can't date a non-girl, it's just not right, it's makes me wussy for turning away from the sweet touches and feelings of the female flesh.] Turning this thought over in his mind, Brian felt Ronnie's arm drop from him when Ronnie rolled over, now facing his wall, and not the open area of the room. Seeing his opportunity, Brian slid out of the bed and rushed to the bathroom still wondering if he was gay or not.
After finishing and washing his hands, the bare chested Brian walked out to the common room, feeling better, but his mind still ticking, rolling and wondering about how wrong it was to love Ronnie.
"Morning, Brian," a voice from the couch said, causing Brian to look to his left. "Feeling better?"
"Much, thanks, Adrian," Brian said running his hand through his spiky brown hair.
"That's good, considering how hard Ronnie tried to help you," Kirk said as he shuffled though the various game cases, looking for something to play. Dropping 'Soul Kalibur' onto the open disk slot, Kirk looked back up at Brian. "He stayed with you almost all day. He wouldn't let anybody in for anything, it's was a little scary how clingy he was yesterday, like a different person from our flippant Casanova we all love and cringe away from." Looking back at the television, Kirk started up the game. He and Ryan picked characters and ended up both playing at the same scantily-clad-large-weaponed girl. Brian looked at his closed door, the 03 shining at him brightly in the dulling blue field, thinking about his roommate and how different Ronnie acted with him and with everybody else in blue.
Going to the kitchen, Brian took out pans and food and started cooking eggs benedict, and ham, and he toasted a bagel, making a breakfast sandwich for Ronnie, his way of thanking the younger boy without vocalizing it. Carrying the plate of food back to dorm three, Brian saw Ronnie stil asleep, his back to the door.
Checking the clock a bright [10:10 am]stared out across the room. Crinkling his nose, Brian noticed an odd, rotting smell issuing from under Ronnie's bed and remember what Ronnie had told him the past morning. ++"You came in last night drunk as a fish. Woke up about 45 minutes ago and up chucked to beat the band all over my backpack, which you are replacing, the rug, and some of the floor under my bed."++
Placing the steaming sandwich on Ronnie's computer table Brian found some paper towels and went about his business trying to get the reeking smell out of the room when he noticed that a little of it was on Ronnie's quilt and some of it imbedded in the rug. Cleaning up the mess as best he could, Brian wrote himself a mental note telling himself to buy an air freshener to at least deal with some of the sour smell still clingingthe the room.
Washing his hands, Brian saw Ronnie sitting up in the bed, inspecting the sandwich that had cooled on his desk, his red hair falling all around his face and partially down his back. Looking at the door to see Brian enter, still not wearing a shirt, Ronnie gulped almost audibly as he fought his raging emotions for his roommate, hoping nothing would show on his face. "Morning."
"Same to you, and thanks," Brian said pointing at the sandwich and giving Ronnie a hand motion to tell him to eat. Taking the hint, Ronnie picked of the food and looked at it, not sure if he wanted to eat it, but decided against it and watched as Brian gathered up some clothes before heading back to the door, stopping, but not turning around for Ronnie to see his face. "Ronnie, I'm sorry for causing you trouble yesterday. Friday Jo (Joanne, not really important, though) dumped me just hours after Prof. Hammy (Professor Hamilton) gave me a low grade on our last test." Run his his right hand through his hair now balancing the clothes in the other, turning to look at Ronnie, Brian went on, "I was stressed, so I drank, like you said 'like a fish' then I stumbled back here, after Lou dropped me off, then I guess you can figure out the rest." He said, turning back to the door, his heart beating fast, and trying to ignore the odd feeling surging through his gut. "Well, I'll be back, soon, I guess," he mumbled leaving the room before Ronnie could for any sort of response.
Ronnie just sat in the bed, chewing his cheek, thinking about the glut of unasked information that Brian had given him. --Does he suspect anything?-- Ronnie thought, worried a little. [What wohapphappen if Dale come came back and--] he thought, trailing off in confusion and insecurity. Ronnie settled in his bed so that he was leaning onto the headboard of his bed, thinking about what he had been told. --Why did he do that? I never questioned him, I only figured something was wrong. What's wrong with him? Maybe he felt awkward about realizing he sleeping in the same bed as a guy. Maybe I should have slept in his bed and left him alone?--
Resting his head on the top of the headboard, Ronnie wondered what he should do. His grip on his emotions was weakening, he knew that something would happen that would trip him up and Brian would know how his roommate really felt about him. [Maybe a new boyfriend would be good. Dale is long gone, he still lives back in Vermont, working his way up the corporate ladder to busy to deal with a nineteen year old. He's almost twenty-six, he was nice to me and gentle, but something was always a little off between us.] closing his eyes Ronnie heard Brian return to their room a few minutes later, but the older boy didn't say anything.
Barely glancing at the younger boy who was still sitting in bed, Brian pulled a sweatshirt and coat out of his side of the closet before sitting on his own bed and pulling his boots on. "Later," was all he said, not giving Ronnie any indication as to where he was going. Ronnie sat watching Brian, through eyes half closed, as he left, before getting up to shower and dress for the day.
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[Ohmigod! I think I've fallen in love with him. That's not really bad thing, but what if he doesn't really find me appealing. I remember when he told me he was gay, I more or less brushed it off. I mean, he lovho oho or what he wants to love.] Brian thought as the cool November winds swept around him as he walked toward his car. [I think I told him that as long as he doesn't hit on me, I'd be fine with it, but now I'm starting to wonder, I mean he kissed me last night and I don't remember resisting much. What should I do, he didn't say anything and I spilled all that private information. I mean it's not as if he really asked me why I had come back drunk, he just took care of me.]
Palming his car keys, Brian opened the door to his two-seater, five-on-the-floor red Pion, the black flames breaking as the door slid up, out of his way. Turning the key in the ignition and hearing the vehicle growl to life as the driver side door closed brought Brian back to the present, breaking his thoughts as he picked a radio station to listed to before driving out of the Duzell Hall parking lot and making a left as he drove to the mall.
On the radio {I feel like I wanna smack somebody
Turn around and bitch slap somebody (bitch)
But I ain't goin' out bro (no, no, no)
I ain't givin' into it (no, no, no)
Anxieties bash my mind in
Terrorizing my soul like Bin Laden
But I ain't fallin' down bro (no, no, no)
I won't lose control bro (no, no, no)
Shackle and chained
My soul feels stained
I can't explain got an ich on my brain
Lately my whole aim is to maintain
And regain control of my mainframe
My bloods boiling its beatin' out propaine
My train of thoughts more like a runaway train
I'm in a fast car drivin' in a fast lane
In the rain and I'm might just hydroplaine}
[This song is so perfect,] Brian thought bouncin his head with the rock pop beat of the song as he drove to the mall.
{I don't fear none of my enemies
And I don't fear bullets from Uzis
I've been dealing with something thats worse than these
That'll make you fall to your knees and thats the
-The anxiety the sane and the insane rivalry
Paranoias brought me to my knees
Lord please, please, please
Take away my anxiety
The sane and the insane rivalryranoranoias brought me to my knees
Lord please, please, please
Take away my anxiety-}
stopping at a light Brian looked out his window at the people walking on the sidewalk. He saw couples holding hands, cooing away like doves. Looking to the left sidewalk Brian saw two owneryingying to drag their dogs away from each other, their barks muted by the music blastin the the car. Pulling away as the light changed, Brian focused on the beat and the music forgetting about hi stress and worries for the moment.
{My head keeps running away my brother
The only thing making me stay my brother
But I won't give into it bro (no, no, no)
Gotta get myself back now (no, no, no)
God, I can't let my mind be
Tell my enemy is my own
Gots to find my inner wealth
Gots to hold up my thoughts
I can't get caught (no, no, no)
I can't give into it now (no, no, no)
Emotions are trapped set on lock
Got my brain stuck goin through the motions
Only I know what's up
I'm filled up with pain
Tryin' to gain my sanity
Everywhere I turn its a dead end infront of me
With nowhere to go gotta shake this anxiety
Got me feelin' strange paranoia took over me
And its weighin' me down
And I can't run any longer, yo
Knees to the ground
I don't fear none of my enemies
And I don't fear bullets from Uzis
I've been dealing with something thats worse than these
That'll make you fall to your knees and thats the
-The anxiety the sane and the insane rivalry
Paranoias brought me to my knees
Lord please, please, please
Take away my anxiety
The sane and the insane rivalry
Paranoias brought me to my knees
Lord pleasleaslease, please
Take away my anxiety-}
Pulling into the mall parking lot, Brian listened to the end of the song while waiting for a small red car to pull out of a space three rows over from the nearest entrance.
{I don't fear none of my enemies
And I don't fear bullets from Uzis
I've been dealing with something thats worse than these
That'll make you fall to your knees and thats the
-The anxiety the sane and the insane rivalry
Paranoias brought me to my knees
Lord please, please, please
Take away my anxiety
The sane and the insane rivalry
Paranoias brought me to my knees
Lord please, please, please
Takin' away my anxiety-}
Resting his forehead on the steering wheel as the last chords of the song faded away and the radio's DJ came on announcing the next song, this one a ballad, before Brian cut the power, the car quieting. Pulling the handle, the door slid up and Brian climbed out at looked toward the mall, praying he'd find what he wanted soon.
_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+
Ronnie walked out of the bathroom around eleven-forty, his hair dark with water laying limply ast hst his back as he walked through the common room to room three, pausing only a moment to see who was playing video games before pressing the ID pad to enter his room. Dropping his pajama pants on his bed, Ronnie sat down at his computer and 'woke' it from the screensaver and the programmed 'sleep' mode to continue work.
Once the screen had cleared Ronnie opened a file labeled 'Forlorn' and watched as the Micropop Word opened the desired document and counted up the 245 pages he had already typed. Dragging the scrbar bar to the bottom, Ronnie reached the last two paragraphs he had typed before connecting to his Internet radio to continue working.
Listening to the pounding keys in Tchaikovsky's piano concerto, Ronnie worked on his story for his Historical English class. The story he was working on was about a married wife in 16th century France who was not being fulfilled the way she desired and so slept with hundreds of men, killing any child she conceived in these affairs. After finding men undesirable and not satisfying enough, in the woman started going out to brothels, dressed as a man. Hiding all from her husband who was too busy to suspected something was amiss. Eventually the husband started noticing that some of their servants were missing, and new, less efficient servants were in their house, in their places. The husband had spies searching the house to find out who was firing the old maids and butlers, and hiring the new one. The spies brought him news of his adulterous wife and sent them to figure out why she was so unfaithful to him. The husband learned that while he spent most of his time in a different part of the house from his wife, managing their estates and training his heir in all he needed to do, his wife had become a nymphomaniac and had screwed everything she could, even bringing harm upon herself from her adventurous actions.
Carefully looking back at the past few pages, Ronnie mentally mapped out what the husbands course of action would be. He had already written a rough outline, knowing the stories conclusion, but where he was, was critical. How he had to explain the next part of the story would make it or break it. Ronnie sat and typed for describing how the husband strung and elaborate trap in the most recent brothel his wife was using.
Sighing and leaning back away from the desk, Ronnie looked at the clock in the corner of the screen [1:30] looked at him in the dark blues he'd liked for his screen. Saving his work, Ronnie stretched his legs and standing, his stomach grumbled angrily atfor for ignoring it for so long, he looked at the sandwich Brian had set down hours ago, having never picked it, before he left the room to see what was in the kitchen. Yawning, slightly tired from writing for so long, Ronnie poked around the kitchen to see what he had to eat.
Finding nothing desirable in the kitchen he returned to his room grumbling about the lack of food. Getting his wallet, Ronnie picked up a jacket to go over his sweatshirt and left to buy something.
Walking toward the parking lot, Ronnie saw Brian's red and black two-seater pull into the parking lot. Wanting to prevent an awkward moment between them, Ronnie ducked into a park to his right and started walking in circles. After going around the park a couple of times, Ronnie decided he was hungryto bto bto be able to get past Brian if he was still there and to his car. Making the left and breaking his circuit of the park, Ronnie checked the parking lot and saw that Brian was gone. Sighing gratefully he climbed into his dark vehicle drove to the nearest fast-food restaurant, Taco Banzai.
Clicking on the radio, Ronnie heard no songs he liked, but finally settled on a song he had never heard before.
On the radio {Where is the love
The love, the love
It just t tht the same, always unchanged
New days are strange, is the world insane
If love and peace is so strong
Why are there pieces of love that don't belong
Nations droppin' bombs
Chemical gasses fillin' lungs of little ones
With the ongoin' sufferin' as the youth die young
So ask yourself is the lovin' really gone
So I could ask myself really what is goin' wrong}
[This song is different.] Ronnie thought making a left further down the road then Brian had. [I wonder where the love between Brian and Dale and me is. Is it still there between Dale and me, or is it now between Brian and me]
{In this world that we livin' in people keep on givin' in
Makin' wrong decisions, only visions of them dividends
Not respectin' each other, deny thy brother
A war is goin' on but the reason's undercover
The truth is kept secret, (SSSH, SSSH)
it's swept under the rug
If you never know truth then you never know love
Where's the love, y'all, come on (I don't know)
Where's the truth, y'all, come on (I don't know)
Where's the love, y'all
People killin', people dyin'
Children hurt and you hear them cryin'
Can you practice what you preach
and would you turn the other cheek
Father, Father, Father help us
Send us some guidance from above...}
Changing the radio station to a more calming classical station, Ronnie tried to let the playful chords of Vivaldi's 'Four Seasons: Spring' chase the depressing questions from his mind.
Soon pulling into the parking lot of the Taco Banzai, Ronnie cut off the car, and got out the car. Humming the tune of the Beethoven song that came on after the Vivaldi went off. Inside the restaurant, Ronnie got onto the end of the short line of customers and waited his turn, still trying to ignore the thoughts running through his head about Brian. [He's un-allowed, remember, dumbass] he chided hoping it would help. [Right after you told him you were gay he said he was fine with it, but he wouldn't be to fine with it if mademade any advance on him.]
Weighing the options, another part of him replied --Well then, what about last night, why didn't you stop me then?!? Why didn't he stop me himself? I mean, if I remember right, he kissed me back!--
[He was sick and had a temperature you fool! Of coarse he couldn't do much!] The first side answered, this time the fight not sounding as strong as it had in the beginning of the argument. [He was defenseless, which makes your kiss even worse!]
"Excuse me, sir, are you ready to order?" a voice asked, startling Ronnie away from his thoughts.
"Huh, what," he mumbled for a moment, remembering where he was. "Oh, yeah. Can I have a number five, beef, no sour cream please."
"Alright, that's will be $5.11," the cashier replied after placing the order. "Thank you, your number will be called shortly.
Taking the receipt from the man, Ronnie flopped into an embootbooth before remembering about the drink that came with his food. Getting back up, Ronnie went to the drink dispenser and mixed the lemon-lime sodas with the fruit juices in his own mock Bloody Mary.
Sitting back down with his drink, Ronnie waited five minutes until his order was called. Thanking the woman who passed him his food, he returned to his car and rode out to a small lake to eat and think. Sitting on the grass and looking out across the churning water, Ronnie started eating the beef chalupa he had bought and letting his mind wander to where it would.
[Does Brian feel weird about what happened last night? I mean he kind of just left after making me that sandwich. Maybe I should have dumped it before he got back and thought I was mean about not eating it or something. It was odd, he cooked for me.]
--Maybe he truly likes you, and you just can't handle that idea--
[But if he liked me, why would he tell me not to touch him or anything?]
--Because, he didn't know he liked you months ago, I meas aas a child you though you were in love with girls, until ::it:: happened. -
[I can't do anything about what happened, but...]
--We don't know if it did or didn't affect you, stupid, we just have to take care of whatever's going on now. Whatever's going to happen.-
Getting up, Ronnie cleared his head of the negative memories. The memories that are always plaguing him, and only sometimes leaving him. Picking up I food wrappers, Ronnie climbed the hill back to where he had left the care, preparing to return to his homework.
_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+
Brian ignored the fact that he saw Ronnie circling the park near the parking lot and returned to blue to relax after his long and tiring day. [I wonder if he'll like the CDs] he questioned himself as the elevator opened its doors, granting him admittance. -Well, he likes classical, and he doesn't have much from Chopin or Bach. He mostly listens to his radio or the Internet radio so this might be a nice change of pace.-
[I know, but you'd think I could think of something better for his twentieth birthday gift!]
{Well, you could always give him your self} a relaxed and evil voice said from the back of Brian's head.
[What the hell are you talking about!] his sensible side yelled to the quiet, dirty voice. [I could never do that. And anyway, if I were gay, I'd be on top!]
{You know you want the feel of another man's hands sliding up and down you. You know you'd love the feeling of somebody having the power over you to make you squeal and squirm. Stop lying about your dreams. Stop acting as if you're completely straight!}
[What dreams?] a quiet voice asked, scared of the answer.
Brian got off the elevator, the quiet voice battling the evil voice, shocking him as he remembered thoughts he though he had locked away. Ignoring the questioning stares he got from the boys playing games infront of the computer, Brian walked to dorm three and his legs buckled beneath him as soon a the door closed.
{ #A pressure pounding away inside of me. Long red hair fanning about me chest as something wet and warm travels up and down my body.#}
[stop it]
{^I groan and moan as strong hands hold me still as something long and hard enters me, tarring me as a wave of pleasure and pain washes up my body^}
[Shut up, stop it!]
{*I hear my name chanted behind me as I repeat a name that rolls off my tongue with familiarity. 'Ronnie, Ronnie, Ronnie' I chant, moaning as my arms ach from holding the bed's headboard. I scream his name out loud coming hard on the bed, sweat pouring down me as Ronnie comes soon after. I feel his sweaty body on top mine as I collapse onto the bed. He holds me close and presses his lips to the side of my neck whispering 'I love you'*}
"STOP IT!" Brian yelled wrapping his hands around his head as if to force the memories away. "STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT! I DON'T WANT TO REMEMBER ANY OF THIS! I WISH YOU'D GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE!" he screamed out loud at the voice in his head. "LEAVE ME ALONE! GO AWAY! THERE'S NOTHING WRONG ME! I'm perfectly normal!" he said, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper as he gripped his elbows, hugging himself as he rocked back and forth, oblivious to the voices outside the door, calling out to him. "I'm perfectly fine! I had a girlfriend, but shmpedmped me. I'll get another soon, there's nothing wrong with being single. I never had any of those dreams." He said trying to rationalize his thoughts, his nails digging small red moons into his arms.
{Stop lying to yourself}
"No, no, no." he replied as sweat trickled down his face and blood started falling from his arms.
-Stop lying to yourself, Brian. You know you're not straight.-
"I'm alright, I'm fine, there's nothing wrong with me!"
[Brian, you know you're wrong. You've been living a lie for years, at least en years and you know it.]
"No, I'm a good Christian boy. I'm in love with girls not boys."
[Stop lying to yourself! You know you're lying.]
"No, I'm telling the truth. I'm a good boy. Mommy will give me something good if I'm a good boy."
-Ever since Mother saw you once kissing Justin you've been hyper-obsessed with girls. You know you're lying to your self. You know you're hurting yourself.-
"No, I didn't kiss Justin. I never touched him wrong. He never touched my body."
{He did} the third voice sounding kinder then it had earlier less of a threatening edge to it, more calming. {The last time you say him, when he slept over, he touched you. He wrapped his hand around you and made you moan and scream.}
"No, Justin never touched me there. He never grabbed my penis. He never...he never..."
[He did and you begged him for more. You loved it and then your mother caught you, she caught you on top of him. She caught you as you impaled yourself on him.]
-She heard you moan, she saw as he wrapped his hands about your smaller waist and pull you all the way down on him. She saw it all in horror.-
"No...no-nothing happened. She saw nothing," Brian said weakly as he succumbed to the truth in his head.
[You know what she saw. She knows what she saw. That's why you never saw Justin after that. You never saw the older boy who took you first.]
"She saw everything and hated me for it."
{Yes, she saw everything, that's why Justin is gone. That's why George and Sam and Bill are gone. She feared that they would all corrupt you and send you to hell.}
"But she was wrong, I asked them. Everytime, I asked them, until she had me committed." Brian slowly stood up and walked to the bed, no paying attention to which bed he went to. Laying down and smelling a pleasant spicy scent, Brian shed his clothes, the his arms searing in pain from the movement. Kicking his clothes to the floor, Brian wrapped his body in the comforting dark sheets and stared at the wall as he mind slowed.
-{[it's okay]}- all three voices said at the same time, soothing Brian's mind. -{[You'll be okay, you'll be safe. You mother is far, far away. She can't hurt you anymore, you're safe. If anything happen, Ronnie will protect you like he has all year.]}-
"Yes, Ronnie has been good for me. Ronnie has been there. Ronnie will be nice and rough," tho those final words, Brian painfully grabbed his imp cock and thought of how nice Ronnie's body had felt next to his the night before, bringing it to full attention.
Sliding his hand up and down the hard shaft, Brian moaned, imagining it was Ronnie giving him a hand job. Grabbing his sacs with his other hand, Brian moaned at the rough touch and started thrusting into his hand. Pinching one of his nipples, Brian arched into the pain and moaned as he rubbed the aching flash while still moving his hand up and down his shaft feeling only the firm pressure on his penis and the other pressure on his chest.
After pinching his other nipple, hard, like the first, Brian started sucking his fingers until and then he let the saliva trail down his chest, making a short circle around his navel before reaching his desired destination. Lifting his leg out of the way, Brian harshly shoved his fingers into his ass and moaned at the feeling, his grip on his cock painfully tight as he continued to work himself.
Running one finger over the highly sensitive tip, Brian came and screamed out Ronnie's name. Pulling his fingers out of himself, Brian curled up in the bed, Ronnie's bed, and fell asleep, his mind quiet.
_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+
Ronnie burst into the room, rushing after he'd gotten back to his car, hearing from Kirk and Adrian that something was wrong with Brian and he was screaming. Looking for Brian, Ronnie found him curled up in his bed, asleep in the mid-afternoon light filtering into the room.
Looking at the form in his bead, Ronnie sighed because Brian appeared to be seeping and not dead. Walking carefully over to the bed Ronnie decided to check out Brian, make sure he was living.
Pulling the sheets down from Brian's neck, Ronnie saw the blood drying, smeared across his arm and knitted his eyebrows in confusion, but decided to leave Brian alone to sleep in his bed. Tired from his raging thoughts and the events of the day, Ronnie walked over to Brian's bed and fell asleep as soon as he had his shoes off.
_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+
Wow, this was a long ass chapter and I worked damn hard on it so...
NO HATE!!!
And I'd like to thank my mind, because that's how my mind works. Ahh, the sweet two sided conversations for when I've got a problem to worry about. Three ree sided convo's are some of the worst.
As for the 'dreams' Brian has, those are three separate dreams he had. I'm not sure how obvious that is, but I thought you'd like to know that.
Just a reminder, I am starting a mailing list, which I will keep up! Like I said, questions I can't answer in a rant, send it to dichigo88@yahoo.com and I'll reply, if you don't mind minor spoilers. I meant to post this with chapter three, but I forgot and I just decided not to repost it with this information, since, I figured I could always post it some other time.
One last reminder, school will be holding me up, so I hope you don't mind waiting for the postings. I plan on keeping things to about two postings a month, but please bear with me if I mess up, I'm still writing and planning. Thankies to all you wonderful readers and reviewers!
DI
=========
So, that was a trip down memory lane for me, and ....well, i don't know what it was for you reader. But, it's me, it was me back in 2004, how I wrote. Um, I will never apologize for it, aside from never writing more before, but now that I'm older it can be properly written when I get the time to sit down and just write.
Until the next post, brush your face and grease your hair :)
Jasmine P.
Showing posts with label odd. Show all posts
Showing posts with label odd. Show all posts
March 22, 2009
March 1, 2009
A Continuation
Now, to continue with my not quite sordid affairs that have lasted me the past two months, we are now in February and I remember the past month with much more clarity than the prior, because it has been two goddamn months since January. Also, January was so long because it was packed with non-sequitors that came to mind and extra details. But onto the rest of Feruary.
On the 15th we went out to UVA for a tournament and I drank so much goddam coffee that my addiction as seriously be re-ignited in a painful way. Seriously, I drank 2 double shots before 8, and a edius Dunkin' Doughnuts coffee so I could be alert enough for the drive. I learned that Glenn is crap at maintaining a speed. He says this is the furthurest he's driven him 'new' stick shift, which I can accept, he also blames his cruise control for not working properly and I don't accept that because I can maintain my speed better, as far as I'm concerned, and I haveno cruise control. It's all in my foot, baby.
Oh yeah, the previous day, Valentines day, after sobering up enouhg for it to be safe for me to drive from Ian's place, I head over to the Walmart on Little Creek to buy some gatorade and thigns because I don't know what UVA's going to have, and it was a good idea. The gatorade was quite welomed as was the water, so I think I'll keep that up next semester, buying a case of water and a few gatorades for the fencers.
Za made some awesome cookies. Just pointing that out. They were delicious.
Hmm, I glossed over the torunie yesterday, it was a tournie the stats were put down quick style, so let's move back to me. That was Sunday, I was too tired upon returning to Norfolk to do my English reading, but ehh, I tink I had a writing and didn't do it it. Sleep prevailed. Hel, I was tired all day Monday from making the drive and not sleeping properly the weekend before. Hmm, On the Tuesday I went into the EVMS for a surgical consultation for my skin bacteria of terrible and pain and annoying and now itch. Fuck the healing, I'm tired fo the itchiness. But I go in there and after Dr. Britt sees them we figure outwhen I'll be getting them taken care of, the Thursday of my Spring Break, the 12th or something. I think it's the thirteenth.
After about an hour long conversation with my grandmother...
I spent the rest of that tuesday and that week to tell the truth trying to placate my family and tell them what was going on. That was tedious. Seriously tedious. I had to alay theri fears, but noe my father, Patti and my brothers are coming for about two days to hang with me and I dunno, to show they care. My brothers Ihave no problem with. But my father a few more issues because it's not like he's tried to maintan contact with me. I mean, yeah, I do call my brothers about once a week or so, so it's not that often, but we can still maintain a conversation. I never rally want to tell my father anything so I avoid telling him too many truths. He knows I'm goinginto surgery because you tell people that. And he's paying my insurance bills, he kind of really should know. I don't really want them to be here, but they're coming, so I guess I can deal.
Ehh, I've decided that augmentin is a bitch of a anti-bacterial. They gave it to me and now these things bleed, but they don't hurt all the time like before. They're just bloody and gross more often. Man, I'm sleepy now, but I have things to do and things I want to do, like see if I can find a new comic or two, but back to the past. That was that week.
I was bored and alone on Friday. I had been fine up until Friday to be on my own for the weekend, but once Friday ngiht hit I had a mean wave of lonely going on, so I went on an adventure down 64, heading east. That eventually took me to route 17, so I went south and all the way to Elizabeth City. I never didn't anything there, but that's because it was ten, it was dark and nothing was really open. Bumble-fuck towns suck like that. Back in Reston I could drive around and find something, almost anything would have been viable in NoVA, but not here. Yeah. I burned through half a tank of gas doing that too. Thankfully I havne't needed any more glas since then though, or else it would have been that much more annoying.
Saturday I don't remember what I did, but Saturday evening I hung out with Nicole. Incase of anything in the fture, Nicole is a new member to the odufc and she's pretty chill. Anywho, she made a homemade hot pocket, that's something I think I'll try, but I'll need a different type of binding agent, not cream cheese. I might try some type of gravy that's thickened with cracker crumbs or bread. I don't know yet.
This past week was fine, nothing spectacular. This past weekend I watched Clerks and have fallen in love. Ever since I saw Zack and Miri I read a book about Kevin Smith, well, it was a series of journals he had written back around 2003 before filming Jay and Silentbob Strike Back. I found the whole thing to be interesting and Smith has an interesting and unique writing style. I fell in love with Clerks for the reasons it got picked up. There's no real story, but it is a series of interactions. Some are inspired by things that have really happened, some are just some fucked up things he made up. It's a smooth combination of the two that make it awesome to watch. These conversations remind me of my favorite interactions with people, most notably, my interactions with Alex. Dant and Randal have a rapport that reminds me of me and Alex chatting about everything and nothing. And at the same time, everything is important, even if we're just talking about some movie or something stupid. Their conversations were what people did.
My opinion on why the movie is so well loved is that it is one of the most realistic looks at a normal 2o something. They're just stumbling around life and chatting about whatis important at that age. There's no easy way to lay the movie out, but I was caught my Smith's writing during Z&M which is why I needed to see this and for the next few months I'll be watching his other movies. I'll continue through the View Askew Universe to see what I can gleam from everything else. It's jsut a really unique writing style so it's also easy to see why he doesn't like ad-libbing, even thought ad-libbing is one of my favorite things.
I seriously can't put it all into words, this is easily something I'll be able to come back to some time in the future, what I think about this movie. But it's on my list. Something I will own as a DVD, and whatever entity of personal film ownership there will be in the future. It's something I will love when I'm 50, and I'll show it to my kids. Why, it just says something that most anyone at the age of 20-ish can get. Everyone will take away something different, but still important to know or understand about themselves and their friends.
From the extras there were comments about Randal's sexuality, but like they said it's a friend thing. People you're reall ygood friends with you become very protective of them. I'm highly protective of all of my friends, and I'm serious about it all. I would do most anything for any of my really good friends. That's how I am, that's how I pictured Randal. There's another character...Shawn and Gus from PSych have that type of relationship. They're best friends, and they're the only ones who can properly set the other straight, though in the movie Randal set Dante straight more often than not. It would seem like Dante would be in that position, but it works that it's Randal who does that. It's interesting to see the person who seems to be less serious and in control of things to be the much more centered person. The free spirit leads better sometimes and that day, that was the truth.
---
Well, not much more than a nut shell, that was the past two months for me. This journal and the previous one. I've needed to write and haven't had a good topic until now. A large part of it has been Clerks it made me want to write a script. I may start it. I may now, possibly. That's something I have to think about, but at the moment, it is something I'd like to do. But writing this out will also be good for the future when I don't remember my college experiences. Things like this will put some things back into perspective. I'll write more, probably. I might need to just write out something every evening since I have such a writing bug. I guess simply writing out my day will suffice. So maybe for a time this will just be a real journal and not a random collection of essays, but I do love the essays. They're me at my most me. Me at my most me. I'm at ease. I think the rain plus the movies and finally writing has set me to an easy. It's been so cathartic, I miss writing like this. I'll make the time for it since I can't draw worth shit right now, I might as well spend my time writing again.
Well, peace, love and applesauce. I'm not going to sleep, but I'm signing out for now. so PL&A and I'm rocked out, bitches.
Jasmine P.
On the 15th we went out to UVA for a tournament and I drank so much goddam coffee that my addiction as seriously be re-ignited in a painful way. Seriously, I drank 2 double shots before 8, and a edius Dunkin' Doughnuts coffee so I could be alert enough for the drive. I learned that Glenn is crap at maintaining a speed. He says this is the furthurest he's driven him 'new' stick shift, which I can accept, he also blames his cruise control for not working properly and I don't accept that because I can maintain my speed better, as far as I'm concerned, and I haveno cruise control. It's all in my foot, baby.
Oh yeah, the previous day, Valentines day, after sobering up enouhg for it to be safe for me to drive from Ian's place, I head over to the Walmart on Little Creek to buy some gatorade and thigns because I don't know what UVA's going to have, and it was a good idea. The gatorade was quite welomed as was the water, so I think I'll keep that up next semester, buying a case of water and a few gatorades for the fencers.
Za made some awesome cookies. Just pointing that out. They were delicious.
Hmm, I glossed over the torunie yesterday, it was a tournie the stats were put down quick style, so let's move back to me. That was Sunday, I was too tired upon returning to Norfolk to do my English reading, but ehh, I tink I had a writing and didn't do it it. Sleep prevailed. Hel, I was tired all day Monday from making the drive and not sleeping properly the weekend before. Hmm, On the Tuesday I went into the EVMS for a surgical consultation for my skin bacteria of terrible and pain and annoying and now itch. Fuck the healing, I'm tired fo the itchiness. But I go in there and after Dr. Britt sees them we figure outwhen I'll be getting them taken care of, the Thursday of my Spring Break, the 12th or something. I think it's the thirteenth.
After about an hour long conversation with my grandmother...
I spent the rest of that tuesday and that week to tell the truth trying to placate my family and tell them what was going on. That was tedious. Seriously tedious. I had to alay theri fears, but noe my father, Patti and my brothers are coming for about two days to hang with me and I dunno, to show they care. My brothers Ihave no problem with. But my father a few more issues because it's not like he's tried to maintan contact with me. I mean, yeah, I do call my brothers about once a week or so, so it's not that often, but we can still maintain a conversation. I never rally want to tell my father anything so I avoid telling him too many truths. He knows I'm goinginto surgery because you tell people that. And he's paying my insurance bills, he kind of really should know. I don't really want them to be here, but they're coming, so I guess I can deal.
Ehh, I've decided that augmentin is a bitch of a anti-bacterial. They gave it to me and now these things bleed, but they don't hurt all the time like before. They're just bloody and gross more often. Man, I'm sleepy now, but I have things to do and things I want to do, like see if I can find a new comic or two, but back to the past. That was that week.
I was bored and alone on Friday. I had been fine up until Friday to be on my own for the weekend, but once Friday ngiht hit I had a mean wave of lonely going on, so I went on an adventure down 64, heading east. That eventually took me to route 17, so I went south and all the way to Elizabeth City. I never didn't anything there, but that's because it was ten, it was dark and nothing was really open. Bumble-fuck towns suck like that. Back in Reston I could drive around and find something, almost anything would have been viable in NoVA, but not here. Yeah. I burned through half a tank of gas doing that too. Thankfully I havne't needed any more glas since then though, or else it would have been that much more annoying.
Saturday I don't remember what I did, but Saturday evening I hung out with Nicole. Incase of anything in the fture, Nicole is a new member to the odufc and she's pretty chill. Anywho, she made a homemade hot pocket, that's something I think I'll try, but I'll need a different type of binding agent, not cream cheese. I might try some type of gravy that's thickened with cracker crumbs or bread. I don't know yet.
This past week was fine, nothing spectacular. This past weekend I watched Clerks and have fallen in love. Ever since I saw Zack and Miri I read a book about Kevin Smith, well, it was a series of journals he had written back around 2003 before filming Jay and Silentbob Strike Back. I found the whole thing to be interesting and Smith has an interesting and unique writing style. I fell in love with Clerks for the reasons it got picked up. There's no real story, but it is a series of interactions. Some are inspired by things that have really happened, some are just some fucked up things he made up. It's a smooth combination of the two that make it awesome to watch. These conversations remind me of my favorite interactions with people, most notably, my interactions with Alex. Dant and Randal have a rapport that reminds me of me and Alex chatting about everything and nothing. And at the same time, everything is important, even if we're just talking about some movie or something stupid. Their conversations were what people did.
My opinion on why the movie is so well loved is that it is one of the most realistic looks at a normal 2o something. They're just stumbling around life and chatting about whatis important at that age. There's no easy way to lay the movie out, but I was caught my Smith's writing during Z&M which is why I needed to see this and for the next few months I'll be watching his other movies. I'll continue through the View Askew Universe to see what I can gleam from everything else. It's jsut a really unique writing style so it's also easy to see why he doesn't like ad-libbing, even thought ad-libbing is one of my favorite things.
I seriously can't put it all into words, this is easily something I'll be able to come back to some time in the future, what I think about this movie. But it's on my list. Something I will own as a DVD, and whatever entity of personal film ownership there will be in the future. It's something I will love when I'm 50, and I'll show it to my kids. Why, it just says something that most anyone at the age of 20-ish can get. Everyone will take away something different, but still important to know or understand about themselves and their friends.
From the extras there were comments about Randal's sexuality, but like they said it's a friend thing. People you're reall ygood friends with you become very protective of them. I'm highly protective of all of my friends, and I'm serious about it all. I would do most anything for any of my really good friends. That's how I am, that's how I pictured Randal. There's another character...Shawn and Gus from PSych have that type of relationship. They're best friends, and they're the only ones who can properly set the other straight, though in the movie Randal set Dante straight more often than not. It would seem like Dante would be in that position, but it works that it's Randal who does that. It's interesting to see the person who seems to be less serious and in control of things to be the much more centered person. The free spirit leads better sometimes and that day, that was the truth.
---
Well, not much more than a nut shell, that was the past two months for me. This journal and the previous one. I've needed to write and haven't had a good topic until now. A large part of it has been Clerks it made me want to write a script. I may start it. I may now, possibly. That's something I have to think about, but at the moment, it is something I'd like to do. But writing this out will also be good for the future when I don't remember my college experiences. Things like this will put some things back into perspective. I'll write more, probably. I might need to just write out something every evening since I have such a writing bug. I guess simply writing out my day will suffice. So maybe for a time this will just be a real journal and not a random collection of essays, but I do love the essays. They're me at my most me. Me at my most me. I'm at ease. I think the rain plus the movies and finally writing has set me to an easy. It's been so cathartic, I miss writing like this. I'll make the time for it since I can't draw worth shit right now, I might as well spend my time writing again.
Well, peace, love and applesauce. I'm not going to sleep, but I'm signing out for now. so PL&A and I'm rocked out, bitches.
Jasmine P.
December 22, 2008
Behind Closed Doors
Last night I saw Milk, starring Sean Penn, Emile Hirch and Josh Brolin. It reminded me of things I knew but it introduced me to many things I hadn't ans it showed the severity of the hatred people have for others.
I know people have issues with homosexuality but I can't understand why? Why do the Christian Fundamentalists believe that they're trying to 'recruit' children to love those of the same sex? Because some men sexually abused children doesn't mean that all men want to. It did say that statically child abusers were heterosexual. I saw somewhere once that abuse is primarially a rift on power, for the man to feel as if he's in control.
But today I've read over Harvey Milk's life, I've read over the 'Save our Children' campaign and at the moment I can't read about John Briggs or his Initiation. It's painful and illogical. That amout of idiocy in the world, why? Why do people hate so much? Why do the they feel the need to shut down people who have done nothing wrong. Yes, I understand homosexualty is a sin, but when did humanity become God? Just because you believe wiht all your heart that it's right, but science or something can prove you're wrong, that doesn't mean you're right.
I truely don't know what I'm trying to say here, but if people are allowed to be discriminated on and they're banned from housing and work, what are they supposed to do with themselves? There's nothing wrong with their cognitive abiities but they can't have a home because they love their own gender. How does that hurt other people? People go to prison because they are a danger to the world around them, but how is homosexuality a danger to the surrounding world? Unless they're knowing transmitting diseases, they're not a danger.
I don't know if I truely want to understand what those type of people think. I don't think I want to understand why because I'm that much happier not knowing. My homosexual friends are fun and amazing to have. People are people before their sexuality. People eat, breath, live and want to pursue whatever their happiness is, so how does who they sleep next to fut into this?
Jasmine P.
I know people have issues with homosexuality but I can't understand why? Why do the Christian Fundamentalists believe that they're trying to 'recruit' children to love those of the same sex? Because some men sexually abused children doesn't mean that all men want to. It did say that statically child abusers were heterosexual. I saw somewhere once that abuse is primarially a rift on power, for the man to feel as if he's in control.
But today I've read over Harvey Milk's life, I've read over the 'Save our Children' campaign and at the moment I can't read about John Briggs or his Initiation. It's painful and illogical. That amout of idiocy in the world, why? Why do people hate so much? Why do the they feel the need to shut down people who have done nothing wrong. Yes, I understand homosexualty is a sin, but when did humanity become God? Just because you believe wiht all your heart that it's right, but science or something can prove you're wrong, that doesn't mean you're right.
I truely don't know what I'm trying to say here, but if people are allowed to be discriminated on and they're banned from housing and work, what are they supposed to do with themselves? There's nothing wrong with their cognitive abiities but they can't have a home because they love their own gender. How does that hurt other people? People go to prison because they are a danger to the world around them, but how is homosexuality a danger to the surrounding world? Unless they're knowing transmitting diseases, they're not a danger.
I don't know if I truely want to understand what those type of people think. I don't think I want to understand why because I'm that much happier not knowing. My homosexual friends are fun and amazing to have. People are people before their sexuality. People eat, breath, live and want to pursue whatever their happiness is, so how does who they sleep next to fut into this?
Jasmine P.
July 17, 2008
Displaying my Art
While washing some dishes and playing my usual game of 'If I I Meet A Celebrity, I'll Ask Them These Questions' I was explaining why I was curious for 'one of the harder parts you did in your opinion' instead of 'what is the hardest part you've ever played' because trying to define something as a 'hardest' of any extreme is not easy, and it's not something I condone because verything has it's own difficulties and eases.
I was explaining my wording and relating it to pieces I do. There are things I dislike about most everything I do, and no matter how many things I dislike, there's usually some little thing I like about a piece I've done. And That got me to thinking about why I show people my art.
I don't show people my art to be told 'it's great' because most of my friends are not artists. They think damn near every doodle, every sketch, every finished piece is amazing. I sure as hell don't, not for my art, or anyone else. There are aspects I like. But what I had gotten around to thinking was I show people my art for their reactions. Their responses, questions, understanding, acceptance, confusion. I'm not digging for compliments. I'm digging for responses that I can file away. There are people whom I show my work who most often respond with 'that's nice, but why are you showing me this?' it gives me the chance to explain something I've created, in turn explaining myself, but it gets me away from the 'yes men' who think it's amazing that I an hold a pencil, a pen, anything in such a fashion that I am able to make something out of it.
My line of questioning is more on the aspects of a film, of a project and working on it more so than a laundry list of favorite, least favorite parts. My questioning gave me the 'why' What was a hard aspect of a part? Why? What is something about a past performance you'd want to change? That damn near gives me the 'why' without having to ask it. This question is also fun because actors always want to change and improve a performance, but can't. I think it'd be fun to hear about some of the things they wish to change about their performances, or parts they disliked and wish they hadn't done, or any myriad of things. My list of questions goes on and is probably terribly redundant after a while.
~~~
Part of what got me thinking about this was reading 'A Guide TRYS' the book that inspired the movie. It's interesting to see that Dito didn't so much as write about himself whereas he wrote more about the people around him and his interaction with them, which at the same time says a lot about himself. He's not vain and he loved the people he was around. A Guide is also great because of how it's written. It's not one long narrative, it's written more like how he'd be telling the story to someone else. There are interjections about how a past event made him feel and so forth. That makes it interesting. And the chapters aren't terribly long. It's just about one chapter per interaction. 'Tag' was one chapter, but it was about general tag games, and one special tag game. Nothing's really in chronological order which also makes it interesting to read as time just around.
Reading this was making me think of the movie and commentary with how Dito kind of let the actors do what they would and how things worked. I remember hearing RDJ talking about filming the movie with Dito and how only Dito would make a movie with five acts. Or from Dito talking about how he had the actors really go at it in a scene, like the scene where Young Dito was being beaten up by the Reaper, he told the actors to really wail on LaBeouf for the scene. Or in the retaliation when Antonio attacked the Reaper, Dito told him to hit him as hard as he could upside the back of the head with the prop bat. It made me think about difficulties that actors have with some directors, but also how different directors tackle a movie, or people who aren't 'trained' as directors but become directors.
Did I mention a spoiler warning? Too late.
My point in bringing in Dito's directing style is that letting the actors give everything they could as they saw necessary, as they felt the characters felt gave them a real humanity and at the same time showed a real vulnerability int he actors. It would also prove to be more difficult for everyone involved because it wasn't the lack of directions the actors didn't have, it was showing so much of themselves in these characters. It was a different sort of challenge for the actors to go for it which made it's own difficulties. That lead me to my who thing about my own art because as I pose these questions in my head I give my responses for other people which have little bearing on what their responses would really be because I don't know more than what I've read online or gleamed from commentary or interviews.
Jasmine P.
I was explaining my wording and relating it to pieces I do. There are things I dislike about most everything I do, and no matter how many things I dislike, there's usually some little thing I like about a piece I've done. And That got me to thinking about why I show people my art.
I don't show people my art to be told 'it's great' because most of my friends are not artists. They think damn near every doodle, every sketch, every finished piece is amazing. I sure as hell don't, not for my art, or anyone else. There are aspects I like. But what I had gotten around to thinking was I show people my art for their reactions. Their responses, questions, understanding, acceptance, confusion. I'm not digging for compliments. I'm digging for responses that I can file away. There are people whom I show my work who most often respond with 'that's nice, but why are you showing me this?' it gives me the chance to explain something I've created, in turn explaining myself, but it gets me away from the 'yes men' who think it's amazing that I an hold a pencil, a pen, anything in such a fashion that I am able to make something out of it.
My line of questioning is more on the aspects of a film, of a project and working on it more so than a laundry list of favorite, least favorite parts. My questioning gave me the 'why' What was a hard aspect of a part? Why? What is something about a past performance you'd want to change? That damn near gives me the 'why' without having to ask it. This question is also fun because actors always want to change and improve a performance, but can't. I think it'd be fun to hear about some of the things they wish to change about their performances, or parts they disliked and wish they hadn't done, or any myriad of things. My list of questions goes on and is probably terribly redundant after a while.
~~~
Part of what got me thinking about this was reading 'A Guide TRYS' the book that inspired the movie. It's interesting to see that Dito didn't so much as write about himself whereas he wrote more about the people around him and his interaction with them, which at the same time says a lot about himself. He's not vain and he loved the people he was around. A Guide is also great because of how it's written. It's not one long narrative, it's written more like how he'd be telling the story to someone else. There are interjections about how a past event made him feel and so forth. That makes it interesting. And the chapters aren't terribly long. It's just about one chapter per interaction. 'Tag' was one chapter, but it was about general tag games, and one special tag game. Nothing's really in chronological order which also makes it interesting to read as time just around.
Reading this was making me think of the movie and commentary with how Dito kind of let the actors do what they would and how things worked. I remember hearing RDJ talking about filming the movie with Dito and how only Dito would make a movie with five acts. Or from Dito talking about how he had the actors really go at it in a scene, like the scene where Young Dito was being beaten up by the Reaper, he told the actors to really wail on LaBeouf for the scene. Or in the retaliation when Antonio attacked the Reaper, Dito told him to hit him as hard as he could upside the back of the head with the prop bat. It made me think about difficulties that actors have with some directors, but also how different directors tackle a movie, or people who aren't 'trained' as directors but become directors.
Did I mention a spoiler warning? Too late.
My point in bringing in Dito's directing style is that letting the actors give everything they could as they saw necessary, as they felt the characters felt gave them a real humanity and at the same time showed a real vulnerability int he actors. It would also prove to be more difficult for everyone involved because it wasn't the lack of directions the actors didn't have, it was showing so much of themselves in these characters. It was a different sort of challenge for the actors to go for it which made it's own difficulties. That lead me to my who thing about my own art because as I pose these questions in my head I give my responses for other people which have little bearing on what their responses would really be because I don't know more than what I've read online or gleamed from commentary or interviews.
Jasmine P.
July 8, 2008
Old Dream
YEah, WE we all know I'm known for having some weird fuck dreams.
The first part of my dream involved Gg. There was some weird portal to another world through her house. So, you know, people wandered back and forth. The other world was less technologically advanced, and for some radon at the top of an impossibly tall mountain.The woman's house at the other end of the portal looked like a hell hole. Poor type of hell hole
At some point when I was in the real world, in some parking garage for some reason Robert Downey Jr WAS Iron Man, got his assed kicked by this other guy who had a ring that turned him into different heroes and villains. First he was Gambit, the carton Gambit, then he turned into the Joker, one of his friends was Harley, and he switched around through heroes and villains for a while. [I think he stole a ring that would make the Iron Man armor about RDJ, it was something odd]
He decided to attack RDJ/Iron Man and I happened to be down there so I'm hiding behind cars as best I can. RDJ knows I'm there and is trying to protect me/ get the suit so he can kick some villain ass. Alfred [yup, from Batman] shows up with RDJ's keys, on which is a one way communicator/ tracking device so people know where RDJ is and so when he needs help he can get in contact with Terrance Howard/War Machine. With RDJ distracting the villain, I have the keys and am telling Terrance how to get to where we are and to bring the Iron Man armor, and I try to explain the situation to him and how RDJ is protecting me.
I'm talking into the communicator and say something odd like 'If not for me, do it for RDJ. He's protecting me. He needs the help.' Desperate because the man is on the front line, but he's never really injured.
The villain doesn't know exactly what the keys are, he things they have something to do with calling the suit to us then tries to attack me, but I keep hiding behind cars. I kick him in the balls when he's a super-deformed Joker, I tell him he looks like a retard like that, then I run as War Machine shows up and gives RDJ what he needs to get the Iron Man armor on, it's little and portable now. [I have no idea where it came from-Like a back up ring for the one that was stolen earlier]
They kick ass and I get to hang out with two celebrities for the rest of the day. We're in the other world and RDJ is being challenged to fight for real, without the Armor. He and Terrance both accept the challenge. We're sitting on some hill talking and eating. Jeff Bridges is not to far from me at first, but when RDJ and Terrance sit down behind me he moves. For some reason I take off my glasses, then decided to return RDJ's keys, but in the late afternoon light they both look the same so I squint trying to figure out who's who and finally say 'You're Robert?', Terrance laughs because I was looking at him, well they both laugh, then Robert takes the keys. Embarrassed, my defense was 'I'm not wearing my glasses!'
We continue to talk, the three of us, and I think I ask something about talking at some point and try to get a number or way to contact, but now I can't remember.
We leave the Other World and return to our world. This time leaving we don't him the Portal Keeper's kids, who most people hit as they drive back up the mountain. You wouldn't make it without a car, seriously. RDJ and Terrance disappear at this point and I think we have plans to talk the next day.
I'm walking through Gg's house and the kid who played Nerf in 'A Guide TRYS' is there flirting with, then just plain harassing Gg. I go and stop him, then we get into this weird conversation about knives. I talk about how I need to get a real one, all I have is my X-acto. She tells me she got hers form cigar town.
I leave and stop at the mailbox when I get home. There's a lot of mail. I have a new DVD, and some marble notebook shows up addressed to me. I don't know who it comes from. Dorien gets something in the mail, and then there's random other mail. In the house I'm thinking about the conversation for the next day then I start to wake up and can't fall back to sleep.
~~~
Odd bit of dream I had. Like so many, odd, but I'd have it again, even if I risked my dream life.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
---- don't know why it wasn't properly posted before, but here it is.
The first part of my dream involved Gg. There was some weird portal to another world through her house. So, you know, people wandered back and forth. The other world was less technologically advanced, and for some radon at the top of an impossibly tall mountain.The woman's house at the other end of the portal looked like a hell hole. Poor type of hell hole
At some point when I was in the real world, in some parking garage for some reason Robert Downey Jr WAS Iron Man, got his assed kicked by this other guy who had a ring that turned him into different heroes and villains. First he was Gambit, the carton Gambit, then he turned into the Joker, one of his friends was Harley, and he switched around through heroes and villains for a while. [I think he stole a ring that would make the Iron Man armor about RDJ, it was something odd]
He decided to attack RDJ/Iron Man and I happened to be down there so I'm hiding behind cars as best I can. RDJ knows I'm there and is trying to protect me/ get the suit so he can kick some villain ass. Alfred [yup, from Batman] shows up with RDJ's keys, on which is a one way communicator/ tracking device so people know where RDJ is and so when he needs help he can get in contact with Terrance Howard/War Machine. With RDJ distracting the villain, I have the keys and am telling Terrance how to get to where we are and to bring the Iron Man armor, and I try to explain the situation to him and how RDJ is protecting me.
I'm talking into the communicator and say something odd like 'If not for me, do it for RDJ. He's protecting me. He needs the help.' Desperate because the man is on the front line, but he's never really injured.
The villain doesn't know exactly what the keys are, he things they have something to do with calling the suit to us then tries to attack me, but I keep hiding behind cars. I kick him in the balls when he's a super-deformed Joker, I tell him he looks like a retard like that, then I run as War Machine shows up and gives RDJ what he needs to get the Iron Man armor on, it's little and portable now. [I have no idea where it came from-Like a back up ring for the one that was stolen earlier]
They kick ass and I get to hang out with two celebrities for the rest of the day. We're in the other world and RDJ is being challenged to fight for real, without the Armor. He and Terrance both accept the challenge. We're sitting on some hill talking and eating. Jeff Bridges is not to far from me at first, but when RDJ and Terrance sit down behind me he moves. For some reason I take off my glasses, then decided to return RDJ's keys, but in the late afternoon light they both look the same so I squint trying to figure out who's who and finally say 'You're Robert?', Terrance laughs because I was looking at him, well they both laugh, then Robert takes the keys. Embarrassed, my defense was 'I'm not wearing my glasses!'
We continue to talk, the three of us, and I think I ask something about talking at some point and try to get a number or way to contact, but now I can't remember.
We leave the Other World and return to our world. This time leaving we don't him the Portal Keeper's kids, who most people hit as they drive back up the mountain. You wouldn't make it without a car, seriously. RDJ and Terrance disappear at this point and I think we have plans to talk the next day.
I'm walking through Gg's house and the kid who played Nerf in 'A Guide TRYS' is there flirting with, then just plain harassing Gg. I go and stop him, then we get into this weird conversation about knives. I talk about how I need to get a real one, all I have is my X-acto. She tells me she got hers form cigar town.
I leave and stop at the mailbox when I get home. There's a lot of mail. I have a new DVD, and some marble notebook shows up addressed to me. I don't know who it comes from. Dorien gets something in the mail, and then there's random other mail. In the house I'm thinking about the conversation for the next day then I start to wake up and can't fall back to sleep.
~~~
Odd bit of dream I had. Like so many, odd, but I'd have it again, even if I risked my dream life.
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
---- don't know why it wasn't properly posted before, but here it is.
June 20, 2008
Flintstone Syndrome
I'm sure Holllywerid has some other name for this, but that is a common enough reference point for what I'm brining up this morning [it being 1.22 am as of starting this]
What I'm talking about is how the hell do fat bastards like Homer Simpson, Peter Griffin, Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble, to name a few, end up marrying intelligent enough and attractive enough women suck as Marge, Lois, Wilma and Betty? Those women are frigging MILFs and you know it. They still have figures and brains after getting married and after three kids in some cases they shouldn't sitll have.
But my point is what the fuck is Hollyweird, Hanna-Barberra, Fox etc, saying about women? Everybody knows they want somebody attractive, and I understand there are more than one sort of attractive, but some of these are real long shorts. My inspiration and true complaint comes from an article on Yahoo news about unlikely couples in these summer movies and older movies.
http://movies.yahoo.com/summer-movies/The-Love-Guru/1809932977/photos/370/9621/#info
What I'm saying is, yes, I want a fun guy who's great to hang out with and blahddy-blahddy-blah, but why can't he be attractive? What is this saying about the choices women in movie land have with picking someone to marry. These guys are jobless losers who get into serious relationships or even marriage with a brillient bombshell of a woman who chances are probably wouldn't all look at these guys.
I'm not trying ot shoot down the Average Joes of the world, I'm just asking Hollywood to make a realistic movie whee the leading lady and the leading man are of some sort of equal status of wealth and intelligence. I know not every ugly person is married to another ugly person and that not every stupid person is married to another stupid person, but give me a bit of reality every now and again.
My argument goes both ways for ugly women getting with gorgeous men, but I can't think of that one happening too often. What I'm also tired of is seeing every 50+ actor marrying/fucking ever 22 year old actress [and vice versa]. If two characters have an age difference, keep the actors in line with that too because sometimes it gets weird to listen to commentary and hear that some actress or actor grew up watching somebody they admired as a kid and now they're in a sexual relationship with "them" due to the parts they play.
I'm not saying there aren't actors old enough to be my father that I don't think are attractive [there are plenty of them.] but that doesn't mean that if I ever get eh chance ot meet them that I'd want to fuck them, or act like I was. Part of what makes them alluring is their age and their talent. Yes, I think they're attractive, but no, I'd never want to date them for many reasons other than the fact that they're fucking old enough to be my parent. There are also actors around my age whom I find attractive, but at this moment they don't have the presence that age and skill births. In twenty years when I'm married they'll possibly inhabit the same qualities I find attractive about actors of the same age right now, but that's an issue for the future.
May looping arguement says this. Match characters realistically and hapilly with characters from their social ranks. If you're going to have a lovable loser, match them with some sort of bohemian. Have the girl next door grow up to be a bombshell of a woman who marries someone who is just as pretty and intelligent as she is, have them be happy.
I'm not saying don't stir the waters every now and again, but staying within the realms of reality every now and again also help the self esteem of regular people and their dream of finding a realistic love and not just a fantasy. Those of you reading this know me well enough to know that I love and live outside of this reality and have no issue with accepting things that aren't 'normal' but I also appreciate the reality in a situation, the possibility that It's not all that long of a shot for something to happen.
Oh yeah, the initial point of this is what are these movies saying about a woman's ability to choose a successful mate? I understand people want to all live in a fairytale happy ending with someone who's fun and women want ti be in charge of the relationship, but sometimes they need someone who has more then they do to lean on.
Other notable movies and tv shows that showcase the Flintstone Syndrome as far as I can remember are: The Honeymooners, Love & Sex, As Good As It Gets, Something New, etc. There are a million others out there, but I can't list half of 'em. Too tired, too late. But think about it: in many romantic comedies the brilliant/rich lead falls in love with a lovable/poor loser. It doesn't always happen like that, so why in Hollyfake? I know movies are a serious source of escapism from the realities of life but why everyone? [i have my own arguments for others medias that showcase this habit or similar habits, but that's for another note/journal of it's own]
[1.52am]
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
What I'm talking about is how the hell do fat bastards like Homer Simpson, Peter Griffin, Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble, to name a few, end up marrying intelligent enough and attractive enough women suck as Marge, Lois, Wilma and Betty? Those women are frigging MILFs and you know it. They still have figures and brains after getting married and after three kids in some cases they shouldn't sitll have.
But my point is what the fuck is Hollyweird, Hanna-Barberra, Fox etc, saying about women? Everybody knows they want somebody attractive, and I understand there are more than one sort of attractive, but some of these are real long shorts. My inspiration and true complaint comes from an article on Yahoo news about unlikely couples in these summer movies and older movies.
http://movies.yahoo.com/summer-movies/The-Love-Guru/1809932977/photos/370/9621/#info
What I'm saying is, yes, I want a fun guy who's great to hang out with and blahddy-blahddy-blah, but why can't he be attractive? What is this saying about the choices women in movie land have with picking someone to marry. These guys are jobless losers who get into serious relationships or even marriage with a brillient bombshell of a woman who chances are probably wouldn't all look at these guys.
I'm not trying ot shoot down the Average Joes of the world, I'm just asking Hollywood to make a realistic movie whee the leading lady and the leading man are of some sort of equal status of wealth and intelligence. I know not every ugly person is married to another ugly person and that not every stupid person is married to another stupid person, but give me a bit of reality every now and again.
My argument goes both ways for ugly women getting with gorgeous men, but I can't think of that one happening too often. What I'm also tired of is seeing every 50+ actor marrying/fucking ever 22 year old actress [and vice versa]. If two characters have an age difference, keep the actors in line with that too because sometimes it gets weird to listen to commentary and hear that some actress or actor grew up watching somebody they admired as a kid and now they're in a sexual relationship with "them" due to the parts they play.
I'm not saying there aren't actors old enough to be my father that I don't think are attractive [there are plenty of them.] but that doesn't mean that if I ever get eh chance ot meet them that I'd want to fuck them, or act like I was. Part of what makes them alluring is their age and their talent. Yes, I think they're attractive, but no, I'd never want to date them for many reasons other than the fact that they're fucking old enough to be my parent. There are also actors around my age whom I find attractive, but at this moment they don't have the presence that age and skill births. In twenty years when I'm married they'll possibly inhabit the same qualities I find attractive about actors of the same age right now, but that's an issue for the future.
May looping arguement says this. Match characters realistically and hapilly with characters from their social ranks. If you're going to have a lovable loser, match them with some sort of bohemian. Have the girl next door grow up to be a bombshell of a woman who marries someone who is just as pretty and intelligent as she is, have them be happy.
I'm not saying don't stir the waters every now and again, but staying within the realms of reality every now and again also help the self esteem of regular people and their dream of finding a realistic love and not just a fantasy. Those of you reading this know me well enough to know that I love and live outside of this reality and have no issue with accepting things that aren't 'normal' but I also appreciate the reality in a situation, the possibility that It's not all that long of a shot for something to happen.
Oh yeah, the initial point of this is what are these movies saying about a woman's ability to choose a successful mate? I understand people want to all live in a fairytale happy ending with someone who's fun and women want ti be in charge of the relationship, but sometimes they need someone who has more then they do to lean on.
Other notable movies and tv shows that showcase the Flintstone Syndrome as far as I can remember are: The Honeymooners, Love & Sex, As Good As It Gets, Something New, etc. There are a million others out there, but I can't list half of 'em. Too tired, too late. But think about it: in many romantic comedies the brilliant/rich lead falls in love with a lovable/poor loser. It doesn't always happen like that, so why in Hollyfake? I know movies are a serious source of escapism from the realities of life but why everyone? [i have my own arguments for others medias that showcase this habit or similar habits, but that's for another note/journal of it's own]
[1.52am]
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
June 17, 2008
Dream
My dreams decide to incorporate the oddest things sometimes.
Take this dream from today. I took a nap at about noon, then woke up about 2, it's a lot longer than i intended, but weird things happened. Part of my dream was a video game. Part of the game was inspired by Mario 64, but I can't remember the rest. Then I'm going out to dinner with Miguel, Dad, Ari, a girl who is a weird combination of Sam L and Za and Dorien. We're talking about whatever then Dad chides me for not having my phone with me because he called me. Coincidentally this is one of the few times I didn't have my phone right next to my ear that I happen to be bitched at about it. Then there's another part of the dream where Migs is bitching me out about smoking because he found a cigar band and somehow forgot I'm old enough to smoke. He found either the bad or my cutter. This happened on the way to dinner. It was weird. Nothing made much sense. Funny thing is I go to check my phone and it's flashing I think 'Oh, someone actually called me. It's probably a text from Dorien' and it's a call from Glenn and I think 'Fucking weird. This reminds me of that dream I just had.
Yeah...that's what happened. I don't know why I was so pressed to write it up, but I was. I left a voice message reply, and about fifteen minutes after I realized what would have been the funniest thing to leave as a response. I'll have to use it some other time. And I have an amusing bit of something to tell Alex. So many thoughts and nobody to hear them. :(
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
Take this dream from today. I took a nap at about noon, then woke up about 2, it's a lot longer than i intended, but weird things happened. Part of my dream was a video game. Part of the game was inspired by Mario 64, but I can't remember the rest. Then I'm going out to dinner with Miguel, Dad, Ari, a girl who is a weird combination of Sam L and Za and Dorien. We're talking about whatever then Dad chides me for not having my phone with me because he called me. Coincidentally this is one of the few times I didn't have my phone right next to my ear that I happen to be bitched at about it. Then there's another part of the dream where Migs is bitching me out about smoking because he found a cigar band and somehow forgot I'm old enough to smoke. He found either the bad or my cutter. This happened on the way to dinner. It was weird. Nothing made much sense. Funny thing is I go to check my phone and it's flashing I think 'Oh, someone actually called me. It's probably a text from Dorien' and it's a call from Glenn and I think 'Fucking weird. This reminds me of that dream I just had.
Yeah...that's what happened. I don't know why I was so pressed to write it up, but I was. I left a voice message reply, and about fifteen minutes after I realized what would have been the funniest thing to leave as a response. I'll have to use it some other time. And I have an amusing bit of something to tell Alex. So many thoughts and nobody to hear them. :(
Adios for now
:salute and bow:
Jasmine P.
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