the lights from the carnival rides were the only stars you believed in
Let's do a meme:
If you could have me write a fic specifically for you, what would it be like? Fandom, characters/pairing, genre, plot elements, kinks... what's your ideal fic from me?
***
Have a poem:
Antilamentation
Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax. Don't bother remembering
any of it. Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.
~Dorianne Laux
***
And that just made me remember an interesting post I read about Inception, though I can't remember where I saw it. It talked about how maybe it was all an attempt to perform an inception on Cobb. That the thing about being an old man, alone with his regrets was repeated numerous times and that the song used to warn for the kick was "Non Regrette Rien" by Edith Piaf (which I thought I had uploaded at box.net but I don't appear to. Huh.), which of course means, "I regret nothing" (roughly). I think there were other evidence points in the post, but I also don't remember them. Heh. Anyway, it seems as valid a theory as any. I probably do need to see the movie again. Heh.
***
I have to go have a conference call with my (vacationing) boss now. Sigh.
***
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/197859.html.
people have commented there.
If you could have me write a fic specifically for you, what would it be like? Fandom, characters/pairing, genre, plot elements, kinks... what's your ideal fic from me?
***
Have a poem:
Antilamentation
Regret nothing. Not the cruel novels you read
to the end just to find out who killed the cook.
Not the insipid movies that made you cry in the dark,
in spite of your intelligence, your sophistication.
Not the lover you left quivering in a hotel parking lot,
the one you beat to the punchline, the door, or the one
who left you in your red dress and shoes, the ones
that crimped your toes, don't regret those.
Not the nights you called god names and cursed
your mother, sunk like a dog in the livingroom couch,
chewing your nails and crushed by loneliness.
You were meant to inhale those smoky nights
over a bottle of flat beer, to sweep stuck onion rings
across the dirty restaurant floor, to wear the frayed
coat with its loose buttons, its pockets full of struck matches.
You've walked those streets a thousand times and still
you end up here. Regret none of it, not one
of the wasted days you wanted to know nothing,
when the lights from the carnival rides
were the only stars you believed in, loving them
for their uselessness, not wanting to be saved.
You've traveled this far on the back of every mistake,
ridden in dark-eyed and morose but calm as a house
after the TV set has been pitched out the upstairs
window. Harmless as a broken ax. Emptied
of expectation. Relax. Don't bother remembering
any of it. Let's stop here, under the lit sign
on the corner, and watch all the people walk by.
~Dorianne Laux
***
And that just made me remember an interesting post I read about Inception, though I can't remember where I saw it. It talked about how maybe it was all an attempt to perform an inception on Cobb. That the thing about being an old man, alone with his regrets was repeated numerous times and that the song used to warn for the kick was "Non Regrette Rien" by Edith Piaf (which I thought I had uploaded at box.net but I don't appear to. Huh.), which of course means, "I regret nothing" (roughly). I think there were other evidence points in the post, but I also don't remember them. Heh. Anyway, it seems as valid a theory as any. I probably do need to see the movie again. Heh.
***
I have to go have a conference call with my (vacationing) boss now. Sigh.
***
This entry at DW: http://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/197859.html.
people have commented there.