Was Ich Tun in Various Endearments
- Jan. 30, 2014, 3:44 p.m.
- |
- Public
Today we watched Jenseits der Stille and I got to cry in front of all those classmates. Nun ja. Weinende ist, was ich tun. I love the clarinet, which doomed me. I get that perverse jouissance from the emotions accompanying fiction-inspired weepiness. I like wallowing in sympathy and sadness, I like feeling pity, like secondhand regret, the way I used to like sacrificing myself for nonsense. There were beautiful images. Clarissa and Lara through the pond ice. Martin at the window, asking Lara what snow sounded like. "Snow makes the world quiet? That's beautiful." Tom signing the entirety of I Will Survive and making Lara into a shadow puppet.Clarissa's red hair in the lake. I liked especially, not because it was beautiful but because it was unintentionally sexy, Gregor pulling Lara's ponytail so she would look at the right building through his window. There are a few visual things I'd love to get into a film of my own, but that's never going to happen. I just have to figure out how to write them. Being concise about physicality is difficult through text, and prepositions rapidly get mucky. Zu schlecht. I'll figure it out.
Very glad it's Thursday. I have to read 97 pages of a nauseating book - Cracking India - for that nauseating online class, and then take a quiz on it, but afterwards I can start Exley's A Fan's Notes, which I've been looking forward to for three months. And I have one beer left (Lift Bridge Brown Ale, second only to Widow Maker), so there's no chance of a hangover tomorrow. Unless I go out. I might. If I'm lonely and my eyes hurt, I will. I just don't want to be distracted by pretty things, and there are plenty of them tonight. The snow is high and still falling, the light is already purple and the sky is clear, so we'll have stars. The town has big orbs for lampposts, like moons. I love them. The bar I have in mind has a view of the water and a charming bartender, both of which are beautiful. The boys' cats will be on my nerves too, which is incentive either to leave or to close my bedroom door (which always feels rude). So I'll probably go out and be glad I'm not deaf because snow and wind makes a sound like hand-over-mouth whispering.
I have work in fifteen, so I'm done writing. I haven't used an online diary in a few months. This was nice.
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