Weird angst and too voodoo for words
I debated whether to post this in my LJ, but decided it belonged here because if I wasn't a total lotr_porn whore it wouldn't have had anything but the most miniscule impact. If the mods want me to move it, I will. No worries. But every now and then, writing and real life collide into a nuclear winter thing and when that happens you just have to write about it. Let me know if you want me to move it.
ETA Think he probably stole the stroller. So he could haul the puppies around because he couldn't choose between the two of them and decided to take both of them. Ergo, steal a stroller.
Work in Berkeley, California. Happened to have been born there, attended school there, and have lived there for most of my life. I consider it home and always will and intend to move back once this unfortunate and spectacularly stupid experiment in suburban living ends the second my son turns 18. Berkeley has one of the finest universities in the world, home of Peet's coffee, and also an extraordinary number of homeless people. Like every 20 feet.
I drop my car off to get some work done and because I must, there's no Peet's down that end of Shattuck Ave., I hold my nose and stop in Starbucks. In front of me is a very slender young man I immediately peg as homeless, radar going full bore, because he's getting a free cup ice water at 8:30 in the morning and his clothes are sort of clean but look like they've been slept in. Plus, he's got the homeless wearing several teeshirts look down pat. He turns around to walk out the door to join the contingent of street people selling Street Sheet and I nearly have a fucking stroke on the spot. This kid is an absolute fucking ringer for Orlando Bloom. The jaw is absolutely dead on, he's got that twig like sexiness that defines Orlando body, black bandana covering his hair (I am NOT making this up), and the only thing that stops me from asking for this kid's autograph is the fact that (a) he's homeless, and (b) he's not Orlando because he has the most beautiful gray eyes I've ever seen on a man in my entire life. They flitter back and forth between being gray and green (just like Viggo's) depending on how the light hits them.
I unbutton my shirt practically down to my waist while I wait for my coffee and sneak peeks at this kid. Weird disconnect here. Hanging out with clearly hardcore homeless types (like two hours a way from a fix types), yet he has a cell phone clipped on the back of his jeans. Clothes look slept in but not grungy. Maybe he's twenty. Maybe. Looks like he shaved yesterday (that beautiful, beautiful fucking jaw line). Weird. But he's hanging with these hardcore types who've got a shopping cart filled to the brim with junk, and there's one of those three-wheeled strollers toward the curb, like one of them has a small baby. Not unheard of in Berkeley. Mom panhandles in the morning, Dad in the afternoon. Baby brings in the money.
Okay, get a grip on myself, get my coffee, and move on. Do not donate because spent my last dime on overpriced coffee and didn't think I could look this kid in the face without getting the shakes.
Walking back to get my car this afternoon (after a hellish day at work and if my boss doesn't get on that plane on Saturday I am going to kill him), I'm about to get off the curb and he's in the crosswalk almost up to me pushing the stroller. Nice backpack (not for books but a serious hiking backpack) that is jammed tight with all his stuff (yep, homeless). And there are two black puppies in the stroller. With collars. I lean over to pet them and smile at him and say "Cute." Nothing, doesn't even acknowledge me, just keeps on trucking like he has someplace important to go. Weird. Stroller newish, dogs obviously newish, backpack nice quality, cell phone, and yet has that hard, really hard carapace that one should NOT see on the face of anyone, and certainly not someone who on third glance is maybe eighteen.
By now you're thinking, WHAT IN THE FUCK DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH lotr_porn?????????????????
The two posts that have absolutely slayed me in the past couple of weeks have been the posts about Orlando. Orlando going to Rings's house and Johnny and Bill having that little ephiphany's r us where they both were loath to admit how fucked up Orlando is and now that it's staring them in the face they haven't a clue what to do and they both are feeling as guilty as hell and they are *really* afraid. And I was seeing that Orlando, the fallen Orlando, the one who isn't rescued by Bill or Johnny or Keira, who is so street smart that his face is just stiff with it, and then he has these frigging puppies. I was in tears the whole drive home. I mean, what horrible things happen to make a kid that hard and what wonderful thing keeps a part of him whole enough to get the puppies? Such an act of utter insanity considering it doesn't look like he has a place to stay. But thank god because that kid needs one thing (or maybe two things with delightful pink tongues and ears that cross in front of each other--looked like siblings) to keep that shell from becoming absolutely permanent.
I had a few headshakes over the randomness of life, where two men are physical twins of each other, but one man is the Tigerbeat king and wank fodder for hundred of thousands of people and the other is strong-arming a Starbucks employee for a cup of ice water (no doubt for the puppies). And literally this kid is Orlando's double but no one is going to ask for his autograph or telephone his agent with a film deal. He still had a foot in a nicer world but it wasn't hard to see which one had more gravity. It depressed the utter shit out of me. I am still depressed about it. I've re-read those two posts about six times since I got home and I'm telling you, I've seen the Orlando who Bill and Johnny are very afraid is nothing more than a heartbeat away.
Meltdown over, merci porn princesses for indulgence. Again, let me know if this is appropriate to be here.
ETA Think he probably stole the stroller. So he could haul the puppies around because he couldn't choose between the two of them and decided to take both of them. Ergo, steal a stroller.
Work in Berkeley, California. Happened to have been born there, attended school there, and have lived there for most of my life. I consider it home and always will and intend to move back once this unfortunate and spectacularly stupid experiment in suburban living ends the second my son turns 18. Berkeley has one of the finest universities in the world, home of Peet's coffee, and also an extraordinary number of homeless people. Like every 20 feet.
I drop my car off to get some work done and because I must, there's no Peet's down that end of Shattuck Ave., I hold my nose and stop in Starbucks. In front of me is a very slender young man I immediately peg as homeless, radar going full bore, because he's getting a free cup ice water at 8:30 in the morning and his clothes are sort of clean but look like they've been slept in. Plus, he's got the homeless wearing several teeshirts look down pat. He turns around to walk out the door to join the contingent of street people selling Street Sheet and I nearly have a fucking stroke on the spot. This kid is an absolute fucking ringer for Orlando Bloom. The jaw is absolutely dead on, he's got that twig like sexiness that defines Orlando body, black bandana covering his hair (I am NOT making this up), and the only thing that stops me from asking for this kid's autograph is the fact that (a) he's homeless, and (b) he's not Orlando because he has the most beautiful gray eyes I've ever seen on a man in my entire life. They flitter back and forth between being gray and green (just like Viggo's) depending on how the light hits them.
I unbutton my shirt practically down to my waist while I wait for my coffee and sneak peeks at this kid. Weird disconnect here. Hanging out with clearly hardcore homeless types (like two hours a way from a fix types), yet he has a cell phone clipped on the back of his jeans. Clothes look slept in but not grungy. Maybe he's twenty. Maybe. Looks like he shaved yesterday (that beautiful, beautiful fucking jaw line). Weird. But he's hanging with these hardcore types who've got a shopping cart filled to the brim with junk, and there's one of those three-wheeled strollers toward the curb, like one of them has a small baby. Not unheard of in Berkeley. Mom panhandles in the morning, Dad in the afternoon. Baby brings in the money.
Okay, get a grip on myself, get my coffee, and move on. Do not donate because spent my last dime on overpriced coffee and didn't think I could look this kid in the face without getting the shakes.
Walking back to get my car this afternoon (after a hellish day at work and if my boss doesn't get on that plane on Saturday I am going to kill him), I'm about to get off the curb and he's in the crosswalk almost up to me pushing the stroller. Nice backpack (not for books but a serious hiking backpack) that is jammed tight with all his stuff (yep, homeless). And there are two black puppies in the stroller. With collars. I lean over to pet them and smile at him and say "Cute." Nothing, doesn't even acknowledge me, just keeps on trucking like he has someplace important to go. Weird. Stroller newish, dogs obviously newish, backpack nice quality, cell phone, and yet has that hard, really hard carapace that one should NOT see on the face of anyone, and certainly not someone who on third glance is maybe eighteen.
By now you're thinking, WHAT IN THE FUCK DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH lotr_porn?????????????????
The two posts that have absolutely slayed me in the past couple of weeks have been the posts about Orlando. Orlando going to Rings's house and Johnny and Bill having that little ephiphany's r us where they both were loath to admit how fucked up Orlando is and now that it's staring them in the face they haven't a clue what to do and they both are feeling as guilty as hell and they are *really* afraid. And I was seeing that Orlando, the fallen Orlando, the one who isn't rescued by Bill or Johnny or Keira, who is so street smart that his face is just stiff with it, and then he has these frigging puppies. I was in tears the whole drive home. I mean, what horrible things happen to make a kid that hard and what wonderful thing keeps a part of him whole enough to get the puppies? Such an act of utter insanity considering it doesn't look like he has a place to stay. But thank god because that kid needs one thing (or maybe two things with delightful pink tongues and ears that cross in front of each other--looked like siblings) to keep that shell from becoming absolutely permanent.
I had a few headshakes over the randomness of life, where two men are physical twins of each other, but one man is the Tigerbeat king and wank fodder for hundred of thousands of people and the other is strong-arming a Starbucks employee for a cup of ice water (no doubt for the puppies). And literally this kid is Orlando's double but no one is going to ask for his autograph or telephone his agent with a film deal. He still had a foot in a nicer world but it wasn't hard to see which one had more gravity. It depressed the utter shit out of me. I am still depressed about it. I've re-read those two posts about six times since I got home and I'm telling you, I've seen the Orlando who Bill and Johnny are very afraid is nothing more than a heartbeat away.
Meltdown over, merci porn princesses for indulgence. Again, let me know if this is appropriate to be here.