Someone take these dreams away, that point me to another day...
I see it almost immediately after walking into the rec room. It's like a beacon, sitting there among all the other, dull bindings lining the bookshelves. Bright, fire engine red with the title scrawled in yellow down it's spine.
Mysterious Skin Scott Heim.
I'm standing there in front of the shelves before I even realize it. The book slides off the shelf, and I laugh quietly when I turn it over and find my own face staring back at me. Now a Major Motion Picture... Yeah, no shit.
I'm not even surprised, and I don't feel that twist in my gut like that day I found the film reel. Still, it's weird, reading your life consolidated on the back of a paperback. How it somehow manages to summarizes everything, but seems to miss the whole point at the same time. And not just my life, Brian's too, and I suddenly feel sharp pang of curiosity. I wonder how much more this book tells. Are there things the movie left out? Things about Brian. Things about me.
For all I say I'm ready to get over it, ready to forget, that doesn't stop me from curling up in an armchair and opening the book to the first page.
Brian Lackey... The summer I was eight years old, five hours disappeared from my life...
Well, at least it starts out familiar.
I don't even realize the jukebox has started up its fucking soundtrack... Soundtrack to our lives, and I'm humming along. I read the first chapter devoted to Wendy twice, trying to memorize details I never knew. I laugh at the things the writer got wrong. Details more vivid than anything in the film, but the weight of it isn't as crushing.
It's just curiosity, and I can't stop reading.
[OOC: Open to all, but if he doesn't know you, he's likely to hide the book. Don't expect the downward spiral of emo like the canon-puncture thread. He really is mostly just curious, and trying to move on. Friends are most welcome, he's feeling more open than usual. The jukebox is playing Slowdive's Dagger. The subject line is from Joy Division's Dead Souls which I am reccing just because I can... Um, late tags welcome.]
Mysterious Skin Scott Heim.
I'm standing there in front of the shelves before I even realize it. The book slides off the shelf, and I laugh quietly when I turn it over and find my own face staring back at me. Now a Major Motion Picture... Yeah, no shit.
I'm not even surprised, and I don't feel that twist in my gut like that day I found the film reel. Still, it's weird, reading your life consolidated on the back of a paperback. How it somehow manages to summarizes everything, but seems to miss the whole point at the same time. And not just my life, Brian's too, and I suddenly feel sharp pang of curiosity. I wonder how much more this book tells. Are there things the movie left out? Things about Brian. Things about me.
For all I say I'm ready to get over it, ready to forget, that doesn't stop me from curling up in an armchair and opening the book to the first page.
Brian Lackey... The summer I was eight years old, five hours disappeared from my life...
Well, at least it starts out familiar.
I don't even realize the jukebox has started up its fucking soundtrack... Soundtrack to our lives, and I'm humming along. I read the first chapter devoted to Wendy twice, trying to memorize details I never knew. I laugh at the things the writer got wrong. Details more vivid than anything in the film, but the weight of it isn't as crushing.
It's just curiosity, and I can't stop reading.
[OOC: Open to all, but if he doesn't know you, he's likely to hide the book. Don't expect the downward spiral of emo like the canon-puncture thread. He really is mostly just curious, and trying to move on. Friends are most welcome, he's feeling more open than usual. The jukebox is playing Slowdive's Dagger. The subject line is from Joy Division's Dead Souls which I am reccing just because I can... Um, late tags welcome.]