Lots of stuff
Mar. 20th, 2004 02:33 pmI saw 'The Butterfly Affect" last night, it was absolutely bloody brilliant. Psychological thriller with a slight science fiction twist, though that is probably the wrong genre in which to clasify it. Fascinating study of the human mind, at any rate. I will not discuss the plot, though, since discussing the plot of such and intricate and abstract film always makes it sound crap. I must say, though, it was very interesting to see Aston Kutcher in a serious role. He pulled it off very well.
In regards to that entry a few days ago, about Lismore Uni and it giving me a sense of direction, I've thought of a better way to describe it. At the end of year 12, last year, I wrote a piece to put in the yearbook. It went like this:
"What is it like to come to the end of year twelve?
I suppose that is what we were all wondering this time last year, but now we realise that nobody could have told us, because we wouldn’t have believed them.
I have been at odds to describe how I feel – and for me, someone for whom words are the ultimate expression – for me that is scary.
But there are ways to describe it, though it changes all the time. One moment you’re squealing with excitement and anticipation of what is to come, the next fighting back tears because the idea of going out into the big wide world and leaving the comfort zone behind is just so damn scary.
And there’s no turning back. I feel like I’ve been walking for miles through a city, a place I know like the back of my hand, every alley, every street, every house and every face, and I’ve finally reached the city gates. I’m looking out at this road on the other side, and I don’t know where it goes. All I know is that I can’t turn around and walk back into the city; that I’m just going to have to follow the road wherever it leads. We’re all leaving the city, and what is over the next hill is going to be different for all of us.
It’s like seeing those documentaries about baby hawks, how the mothers build their nests on the edge of cliffs – we’re like those baby hawks. It’s like it’s finally time to start finding our own food, and we’re perched on the edge of this cliff, looking out over the chasm below us, and we know that the only way to continue is to take that plunge over the edge, but we’re not sure if we’ll be strong enough to fly.
In the end I relate everything back to writing, as is my way. This is the final chapter of this novel of my life, and, like many a story I write, I have no idea what is going to happen in the next volume, only that I want to write it.
So we will take those steps, and flap those wings, and wherever the roads or the wind currents take us, that’s where we’ll be. "
I suppose, now, I have a grasp of the road. I'm still not exactly sure where the road will lead, but I can see behind me to the city, and I can see a place ahead where the road is anchored, giving it soem kind of direction. I hadn't realised how much I needed that direction.
This isn't turning out to be much of a writing journal, really, is it? Oh well, its a creative outlet.
I was chatting with 'Lucius' the other night, a roleplaying buddy who has never deigned to give me his real name, and during a conversation, I blurted out a random line from one of my books, simply because I HAD to share it. He reckoned I should do 'random moment' in my journal entries, so here it is.
This is just about my FAVOURITE snippet of dialogue EVER, especially since I actually hear it with outrageously British accents in my head, which only serves tomake it more amusing:
As Helen approached the lunchroom, she overheard two voices.
“I heard she got with Jimmy Havana...how young is he?” It was Heather Caruna
“Who told you that?” Imogen Chircop.
“I heard it on the grape vine...” Heather again.
“What’s the difference between Helen Davey and the Titanic?” a question posed by Imogen.
“I don’t know - what?”
“Well we know how many went down on the Titanic!”
Hysterical laughter.
I also love her catty response, a few lines later.
She headed to the door. “Oh, and Imogen, I don’t know much about the Titanic, but I’d rather be the ship than the iceberg.”
And on that note I bid you adieu!