(no subject)
My passsions have been reawakened! For literature, first of all; have you ever read a better first line of a book? "It was inevitable: the scent of bitter almonds always reminded him of the fate of unrequited love." Also for life. I giggled tonight with a boy I've giggled with a thousand times and more before and it was falling in love all over again, which is okay for me to say because I saw this beautiful French film tonight that taught me that there is simplicity in tired metaphors, and if we want to strip things down to the most basic human desires, we have to get rid of all the fancy, new age talk. This probably isn't making much sense, but I feel my old style returning, my old pleasure in ambiguity and poetics. I felt just awful tonight because I saw an old professor and made a fool of myself when I spoke Italian instead of French, but that's alright, because I'm dancing to The Who, and everybody knows about The Who, while only I and my professor know about my mistake. I wish that the Baudelaires hadn't fallen down a mountain, but I'm confident that they will at the very least survive the tragedy, because there are at least three more books about them sitting on my shelf and I think it would be awfully silly to write books about the adventures of people who are dead, it would be all worms eating brains and flowers growing and who wants to read about that when there's fifty years of unrequited love sitting next to my computer? I hope that I can learn to speak up about what I think more often, because I think I have pretty interesting thoughts, but they seem so banal when I voice them. I talk to myself sometimes, which I suppose is the first step. I'm going to go to bed, because I could probably ramble like this for days, or at least I hope I could, meaning I hope this passion isn't going to abandon me with the dawn. (I'm sorry, lover, that I listed literature first, it was a short-lived affair).