2007 spent in the dark:
01. Pan's Labyrinth
02. The Fountain
03. Stranger Than Fiction
04. Pursuit of Happyness
05. For Your Consideration
06. Notes on a Scandal
07. Breaking and Entering
08. Little Children
09. The Illusionist
10. 300
11. The Good German
12. Perfume
13. The Host
14. The Lives of Others
15. Paris Je T'aime
16. Half Nelson
17. Spiderman 3
18. The Science of Sleep
19. Zodiac
20. As It Is In Heaven
21. Tales from Earthsea
22. My Best Friend
23. Factory Girl
24. Transformers
25. Harry Potter OoP (Singapore)
26. Alone (Singaproe)
27. Sicko (MIFF Opening)
28. Breath (MIFF)
29. Lagerfeld Confidential (MIFF)
30. In Memory of Myself (MIFF Vollie)
31. The Signal (MIFF)
32. Accelerator Program 2 (MIFF Vollie)
33. Rescue Dawn (MIFF)
34. Time (MIFF)
35. Transformers (repeat)
36. After Life (MIFF Vollie)
37. VIVA (MIFF Vollie)
38. Echoes of Home (MIFF Vollie) +Katoomba
39. In the Company of Actors (MIFF Vollie)
40. My Kid Could Paint That (MIFF Vollie)
41. Day Watch (MIFF)
42. Inside Paris (Work)
43. Born and Bred (MIFF)
44. Strange Culture (MIFF)
45. Joshua (MIFF) +Strange Hysteria
46. Mister Lonely (MIFF)
47. Man From London (MIFF)
48. This is England
49. Home Song Stories
50. Fracture
51. Ratatouille
52. A Mighty Heart (Staff Screening)
53. Chelsea Girls (ACMI 16mm)
54. Badlands + Mean Streets
55. Eastern Promises
56. The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (Staff Screening)
57. Death Proof
58. Michael Clayton
59. Elizabeth: The Golden Age
60. Awake (LA)
61. Juno (LA)
62. Beowulf (San Fran)
63. The Golden Compass (San Fran)
64. No Country for Old Men (LA)
65. Atonement (NYC)
66. Sweeney Todd (NYC)
67. The Bucket List (NYC)
Paid for: 27
I've been back for almost a week now, but that's ok, I gave myself until this weekend to be lazy. the mother gets home on the 15th, at which time the buzzing would return to my head and any gears i've been cranking internally to get somewhere would unwind, deflate, and i'd probably settle back into same old routine of passively consuming trash starring some prepubescent doe eyed starlet. oooooh skins returns in feb, my torrent client can have something to feed it's hungry hungry heart again.
buzzzzzzzzzzzz
back to list making. favourite films from the above list:
Paris Je'Taime
In parts, the joss whedon segment sucked pickles, and chris doyle scared me.
Stranger than Fiction
Maggie G can do no wrong
Breaking and Entering+Notes on a Scandal+Little Children
these three kind of just blended together, all small scale dramas with very good performances.
Half Nelson
If i could have sex with a performance, i choose this one
The Science of Sleep
if michel gondry could get any more whimsical, he'd have be be making a movie with his 5 year old son. oh no wait, he is.
The Signal
Fucking Hilarious. getting a general release this year.
Rescue Dawn
little dieter gets the hollywood treatment. it didn't suck
In the Company of Actors
technically not a film as much as a video doco on some fabulous people putting on a fabulous show. Cate is clearly an alien, and not the MLC alumni she leads you to believe. I changed three shifts so i could see this standing in the back of the cinema during MIFF. worth every un-paid second.
Mister Lonely
rates right up there in the weirdest films of this year. in a good way. mostly.
Eastern Promises
viggo mortensen's penis gives a stella performance.
Assassination of Jesse James
i don't know why i'm writing anything, these are just good films, go see them
No Country for Old Men
ditto. a tad violent, great script.
***
oh no, the buzzing is already starting, my head hurts. I'm a catlady with no future. at least my boys love me. i'm liking how needy and clingy they've gotten since the cattery. constantly at my heels. honestly guys, bathroom time is MY time.
boy that was a sucky post. i still haven't been able to wash off the slummy stench of 07. tomorrow's monday. 2008 would start then. i'm just two weeks late, going by my usual standards it's not half bad.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Simulacres et Simulation
Thursday, December 13, 2007
a manifesto of sorts
I, like you, have accumulated a bookshelf full of books i never intend to read, and growing.
i, like you, know what films i should be watching when i put another season of scrubs or family guy into the dvd player. and i have them too, those films i should watch, stacks and stacks of them. and growing.
and i know you've read all this before, fuck i know that no matter what idea i have, no matter what i write here on this useless blog it will never be anything original. there is not a single thought that this little brain could come up with that hasn't been thought before.
even today, just as i was thinking about the whole individuality as the new conformity thing, and then, there it was. wham. bound and pretty in City Lights Bookstore, already in paperback by some Hal Niedzviecki, ready for me to scan through and relate to and jump up and down rather embarrassingly shouting to my mum like christian bale did in velvet goldmine "THAT'S ME! MUM! THAT'S ME!". complete with some hipster with skinny tie and black cardie on the cover, all that was missing was the retro specs, which i'm sure is mentioned in chapter 5 somewhere. every sodding idea i have, it's floating out there, i just don't know about them yet. (yes ben, i'm using the "word" sod, it carries the right amount of washed out, wasted, trodden nuance that i need)
this is not an existentialist oh-woe-is-me-what-is-the-meaning-of-all-this crisis. i'm just saying, stating, in a manifesto sort of way, to just fuck it.
The Fuck It Manifesto.
it's like when i watched Juno. i mean was it ground breaking? no. not in content, style, comment or delivery. but was it entertaining? more importantly, was it worth while? Hell yeah. so fuck it. I, Alice Bing Qing Tao Qin (and anyone who cares to join me), vow to, henceforth, not worry about originality, repetitiveness, or (let's face it) quality, but just go ahead and see if i can put anything, anything at all into the world. the worth of which can be determined later, creation is the idea. enough of this worrying about whether people would like it or whether it would work or whether i feel sick writing the same opinions over and over again in uni essays. fuck it. it's better than not producing anything at all. (and failing uni courses because you didn't write the essay at all)
it's like when i finally decided to get my dSLR. i'm no photographer, and i probably never will be. i just knew that i needed something more than what my little point and shoot can give me. i have tons of photographer friends who would be able to see my pathetic shots with it but you know, fuck it. they're hardly going to critique me. i guess this isn't original either, it's the whole not being afraid thing isn't it? but as of now, i couldn't care less about that either.
so who's with me? for creativity's sake. for getting more voices herd. for never having to capitalise because it's just a blog. let's just fuck it all.
sincerely,
Alice Bing Qing Tao Qin
(sign your name in the comments if you're behind this movement)
Friday, October 26, 2007
two tails
*warning: filler post. actual content pending*
Charlie Parker, that's the second cat, and Miles Davis have settled quite well. i think. All day i watched them eat, drink, poop, and wrestle. no matter how hard i try to block out all access to under my bed they always seem to find a way in and retire for two hours at a time until i go in to fish them out, when they'll go eat, drink, poop, and wrestle. i think they're adapting to me now. instead of retreating they now wrestle over, around, and on top of me like i'm part of the furniture. i've given up on keeping them away from under my bed, instead i just leave them a gap for safe passage at the top of the bed so that if my worst fears of my bed collapsing is ever realised they can run out easily. i'm also trying to introduce them to the top of my bed. it's working, they now jump on, and run through it quite regularly on their routes of their chase games.
i've taken a few videos but you really have to see them. they're scratching the hell out of my room but they're the darn tootin' cutest things you ever saw. miles can climb half way up my curtains now!
oops. they both got distracted by my tapping away at the keypad half way through a half nelson and fell sidelong in a heap off my bed. i think i will introduce them to the rest of the house tomorrow. this room suddenly seems too small for them.
aah, miles has just learned the difference between pillow and doona. similar texture, but very different leverage points for attack. they're both perfecting the hind legs pounce, sometimes toppling over mid pounce. miles has these stubby little legs, so it's pretty funny. charlie is just beautiful, but a little schizo. frantically chasing his tail in jerky movements, and sometimes chasing something entirely imaginary.
twist, pounce. twist, pounce.
at air.
the game just got vicious, they're starting to push each other off the bed.
and now charlie's gone to the bathroom and miles can't find him. i am so becoming a cat lady but how can i help it when they're so cute when they're little?
Monday, October 08, 2007
Neon Bible
an hour until i have to get to work. today has been all around pretty shit. i AM benjamin law. fated to be married to the public transport system. i really should've gotten more sleep last night.
but outside of today things have been going well. the moronic cutting of my fringe times 4 which caused the epic (romeo in the desert) proportions of yelling "NOOOOOOooo" actually turned out pretty good. in that i don't look like a complete fool, and i can still pin it up if i wanted. the monologues are coming together nicely. finally have them down. i think. sort of. yes.
emmy bemmy's 21st was over the weekend, where i donned the pink wig which kept threatening to fall off. i was lacking a stocking. and hair nets are....well, hair nets. never go there people. was slightly worried about people guessing that i was natalie portman (aka alice the stripper) from closer than what i actually went as. miss thang from lost in translation, in memory of one of the best nights of summer '04. from one rockin party where no one was themselves to another rockin party where it got positively messy with a marathon gay three way in the kitchen. plans were laid out for the fake copelen.
This time next year, Tregsie, Carilious and I, no matter where we are in the world WILL be living together in some rockin house where the furnishings shall be tastefully arranged milk crates, and we would be living off sueballs' maccas VIP card. it shall be Copelen "The Bungalow". and we will work all year to make it happen. it's in writing people! now hustle!
ok i need get get a move on soon. but everyone go here
oh oh and
i know you all love Wes and Jason. the interview's in several clips that just play one after another so just let the goodness roll in people...
Friday, September 28, 2007
french dog blues
haven't really been in a blogging mood lately. first things first, if you're on facebook, go to the original blog post. it'll make your life that much richer.
so a lot has happened. china and back.
a lot of food, mahjong, bowing and loud percussive noise took place. i was plonked head-first into the province of women, where the thinness and fatness of various relatives could remain the hot topic for up to 4 hours at a time. the days were punctuated by food, the food punctuated by meeting relatives who don't remember me, who i don't remember, and don't really care all that much about my grandfather either.
a certain relative pranced around smiley and giddy with my uncle's camera taking pictures of everything like it was a big party, all i wanted to do was shake her up, slap the camera out of her hands, and scream. all these crazy rituals, who are we doing them for?
it felt horrible leaving my grandmother alone in that big house, with no one around save a few security guards, i was thankful for the long silent drive up to putuo mountain. the rest of the trip was just more food, i never thought i'd get so sick of eating, but i am.
and now i'm back. i had all these movie reviews drafted, maybe i'll finish them one day and put them up. who knows.
there will be fun times ahead though. the mexico trip planning is happening in full swing. tickets have been paid in full, including my extension in the states for about a month. if any of you would happen to be state side dec 5th - jan 6th, give me a holla. i have no idea where i'm going to be other than new years in new york (with jazz and crew) and somehow ending up in LAX for my flight back would be good.
oh and look, it's my birthday soon. i had no idea how soon until today, i honestly thought it was a few weeks away. 22. i don't really feel anything for it, which is why, for the fourth year running, i'm not doing anything for it. this time last year, i was getting excited to see young and restless for the first time. this time last year, i was buying my first penguin red. this time last year, i was just getting to know deano and mr. daphne. you know what? i'm calling it a pretty good year. the bonsai's still alive, one year and counting.
what else do you people care about reading? probably not much. the new issue of McSweeney's is apparently flying to my doorstep some time soon, i'm pretty effing excited, the believer has been bundles of joy and wholphin was pretty damn great.
my man on the inside. that's dean and his bose-ness, hooked me up with a new plasma. plus trimmings, he came around with his manpower buddy oyoy to fix it up nice, and boy is it nice. once we have all the rest of the shit sorted i'm having a movie night. it should be mexico/cuba themed, starting with the motorcycle diaries. or we should just go ahead and do what i have in my mind and let it just be an all out gael garcia bernal night. boy's don't fret, we could put on bad education, it'll be something for everybody. and i will celebrate it by buying the science of sleep. (is it my fault he's got perfect bone structure?)
oh before i flew off to china i went to see the shins.
am i weird for wanting james mercer to be a creepy uncle who drinks too much at family functions and starts hitting on everyone? well i think he's brilliant anyway, and i love that australia is their second single from wincing, and that the title has nothing to do with the song, and that the video has nothing to do with either the title or the song. i know i've linked this already, but seriously, go watch their take-away show. migod. go. now. open up a new tab, the blog'll still be here.
***
now wasn't your day made better by that?
oh and if you're wondering why this post is called french dog blues, it's because babyshambles has a new video. and i really like it. and i don't care how sick people think i am, i love pete doherty. he's like a sick little puppy dog. and wickedly funny when sober. all ironic and drowsy.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Qin Jia Yuan
My grandpa died the same week as Ingmar Bergman. well 10 days later. still, he would've been proud. he was about 20 years younger than Ingmar though. I had prepared myself, ever since I came back from a visit 3 years ago, that it'll happen like this, we'd be far away, worrying about our own worries, and then there'd be a phone call. Three years ago I used to cry whenever I saw a pair of frail old hands, thinking that I might never see his pair again. I had hoped, some small hope, that we'd be able to get him here, fix his heart, fix his eyes, and I'd help him write his memoirs. I'd make him hand write them because I wanted the world to see his beautiful penmanship. He was eccentric the way most grandparents are eccentric. but they were his, and i understood them, and i loved them. Whenever I shake hands with someone I'd always remember how he used to tell me to go about my business, but then every few minutes would call me back into the room urgently, and then with nothing really to say he would sheepishly shake my hand. The road that I live off is Tu La Ke Lu (Toorak Road), and how picky he was about his food. I'm really just as picky as him, but nicer about it and would eat it even if I don't like it. I used to try to picture him as the flamboyant playboy of the east coast. (that's China, not Miami) the mistress he had and the daughter who's only ten years older than me.
he was always peaceful in his wicker chair. he probably had his giant jar of tea with him,an old Nestcafe jar, the Gold Blend because it has the curved sides that he can hold on to. I wonder what he was thinking about in those last moments. probably something about making a fresh pot of the good stuff he stole from mum two weeks ago. the man loved his tea. so do I when I come to think of it.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
hold your breath
***
I've just realised I haven't really posed a recap of my trip have i? well here it is, hong kong in camera phone pictures...
and that was it. that was all the photos i took while abroad. all on my phone. a few lucky peeps wrangled some souvenirs out of me, lucky bastards, i didn't even buy anything for myself. cept for the perfume. speaking of which, my perfume, the one i've been using the last three, four years, has been discontinued. fuck i want to be famous just so i can kick giorgio armani in the arse and get him to make them again. i don't smell like myself anymore, it's disorienting.
***
only other thing i got out of the trip was the realisation that, for no apparent reason, i've become the fat girl. i've never been the fat girl in my life. actually when i was younger i was always a little too thin, and then something happened, puberty probably, and i filled out a little more, i felt good about the filling out, i got bigger boobs out of it. modest yes, but bigger. i remembered joking around with friends that when i see someone overweight, i wonder if there is a moment when they look in the mirror and start to realise that, maybe they've over extended themselves a little? the tipping point where they think, shit, i've really gained a few there? and now i'm looking in the mirror, and thinking, is this the moment? fuck, how did it happen? and before you start writing in on how i'm not and i look "womanly" and blah blah, it's ok, i'm happy with my body, i really am. but i realise i have gained a bit since this time last year, and that was a few inches more on six months before that. i was wearing this pair of pants that i loved back in year 12, they used to hang on me, and tonight through the two films that i saw i was squirming around because they were so tight, and sitting a little high. i always thought i really packed it on during my late night "study sessions" back then. anyway, useless waffle. point is, i want to get healthier. start running, join a yoga class that sort of thing. i won't starve myself, god knows i can't. so don't worry.
***
MIFF started. that's pretty awesome, already seen three films out of it. Sicko for the opening last night, Breath (Kim Ki Duk) and Lagerfeld Confidential tonight.
I've never liked michael moore, but he does have a certain sense of humour about him. sicko hit a few of the right spots, and hopefully it draws some attention to this blindingly obvious problem. I kept hoping he would come down and evaluate the australian health care system, just to prove that we're not going in the way of the americans, but he didn't, and i'm still not so sure, we certainly don't get free treatment for everything.
The Kim Ki Duk was his usual study of human interactions and twisted mentalities. That's not to say it was anything short of brilliant. I've never disliked a movie made by that man, and the line in front of RMIT Capitol attests to his popularity here. granted i haven't actually seen any of his commercial work for the mainstream Korean media, but i'd say he's keeping happy enough with his art now to not bother with them anymore. There's another one of his films in the festival this year which i'm seeing tuesday night, can't wait.
The Karl Lagerfeld doco was...well...the subject matter was very interesting, otherwise it was pretty dull. it was pretty badly made, a lot of cliched shots of the roaring sea, later justified by young karl running in and out of the waves (at least i hope it was karl, otherwise that would've been just 5 minutes of pure crap). it reminds me of what nick hornby writes of biographies in the Polysyllabic Spree, cut the crap. who cares if someone who later became a genius at one stage of his childhood did something really mundane? or something to that effect. if you have little material to work with (which i suspect this filmmaker did, a lot shots from a distance, fillers, very little actual interview) don't fill it with crap. a shorter film doesn't make it less worthwhile. lagerfeld himself was a riot. he has a giant library that requires those wheel things to open up the shelves, books fill his bedroom, as do silver rings which he wears in abundance on his finger ("he used to be able to pat you, now it hurts"). he has a million ipods, and talks candidly about practicing homosexuality since he was 13. when he came home one night after being assaulted by a man and a woman, one can assume sexually, around the age of 11 or 12, his mother said to him "look at yourself, it's your own fault". there's a sign that hangs in the bathrooms, in the iconic Chanel white on black printed in French "Pissing everywhere isn't very Chanel". i wish a better filmmaker had made it.
aside from all that, well, a lot of things happened. among which my relationship status on my facebook. i know it's only a matter of time, but for now it just damned unbearable. i really am the shittest person i know.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
The Unaccountable McSweeney
I'm not sure just quite how it happened. All I know is that, I was sitting here in my room, reading Zadie Smith's On Beauty and taking breaks by reading Nick Hornby's Polysyllabic Spree (not the crazy band that cameo'd in Scrubs, but the book, which only makes me want to go on and read more things like On Beauty, so it was the perfect plan really). I was musing for a moment just how incestuous the modern english literary circle really is, almost like Victorian England only instead of walking around London and bumping into all the literary celebs of the day you are all connected by publishing houses, sending you scripts of friends who are really only friends because you belong to the same publishing houses. Dave Eggers' wife edits The Believer (which Hornby writes a column for, would you believe it?)
So all of a sudden, I find myself doing a triple subscription of McSweeney's, The Believer AND Wholphin, because what kind of a cinema studies student would I be to neglect the DVD short film version of the McSweeney empire. and all of a sudden i'm out USD$160.
So as you can see, I'm am all together committed to this trip to Hong Kong. I've met 70% of the people I'm supposed to meet, and have had enough. Because honestly, even if on the slightest chance that there was anything for me here at all (if i was thin enough, and spoke cantonese enough), I wouldn't want to be a cog in the asian entertainment wheel. It's one thing to admire the work ethics of all these utterly talentless pretty young things, but quite another to want to be one. So sure Mr. Shamelessdirectorguy, I'll go home and drop a few kilos, learn some canto, and send you my portfolio. Do you take homemade DVDs?
I'm half tempted to skip my afternoon appointments and stay in and read. but the promise of some seriously good grub would end up dragging me out the door, into the sweat tank, to put on the happy ambitious face they love so much and tell them "yes I'd LOVE to be just like Twins or Isabella!" has anyone heard these girls trying to sing live? or indeed do anything at all other than stand there looking like a young pretty thing.
But I guess that's the industry everywhere, and still, the industry I want to get into. It's just that there isn't anything else BUT that here. Quality work really isn't appreciated here at all, quite aside from the fact that I couldn't possibly live here, I mean there are no art house cinemas and the bookstores look like my primary school library. They do sell City Moleskines here though, so one up for them. Oh and while on the subject of 'skines, a minor celebrity of the 'skine world Patrick Ng does live here.
I'm just bitter. I know that. If only I had some friends here, I'm sure I'll be singing a different tune. I did have the best japanese food of my life last night, and was so full from it i felt positive i could give birth to live crayfish as some kind of fucked up divine retribution.
I have no photos. I feel too shit to take photos. Plus, everywhere I look the technology everywhere puts my little out of date 4 megapixel to shame. I'm pretty sure all their mobiles have about that much. Shit, I'd better find out how to get to the Academy of Performing Arts from here on the MTR.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
HK mania
Oh, it's humid alright. you don't even have time to sweat, the moment you step out a layer of reverse condensation develops on your skin. So far, i've done pretty much nothing. slept a lot, kept checking emails. I don't get to meet anybody til at least Monday, then I have a week to squeeze in as many meetings as i can.
the plane ride over here was largely uneventful, from melbourne to sing i sat next to this american medical research presenter who's on his way to the epilepsy convention. His breath stank a little, though he was nice enough, and nice enough to put his headphones on and didn't talk to me from take off onwards. happily enjoyed a whole bunch of embarrassing movies guilt free on the plane. Blades of Glory, Disturbia, Priceless, and half of Night at the Museum because I fell asleep half way through. i really didn't miss out on much.
the flight from singapore to hong kong was longer than i expected, there was a girl sitting with me, the seat between us was empty. but the girl, was the dullest little creature. she did. not. move. at all. didn't put her headphones on, didn't read anything, didn't look at anything. just sat there and stared. it was so strange, like tim burton's staring girl, i waiting for her to take her eyeballs out for the "well deserved rest".
yeah you guys don't care. anyway, i got here in one piece. a man on the plane with me who stood inline behind us for the check in saw me get off and gave me his card and told me to call him if i need anything, which i thought was nice of him, he didn't seem like the predatory type, although i doubt i'd call him.
i went out for walks today. just around the area. it's seedy and busy, with all this upmarket designer goods mixed with the dingiest riff raff stores. i needed to buy some adapters so i can charge my phone and stuff, but couldn't find them anywhere. so i wander into this building, that looks kind of dirty and the sort of place you can find cheap gadgety things, and it was like i stumbled into little india, if little india was run by a sleazy uncle who happened to be a wise guy. you know, not a connected guy, a wise guy. anyway, point of the story is, it was scary. i was right though, i found power adapters, but i didn't want to stop for long enough to buy it, i just kept walking and avoided eye contact. i come back and look in my guide book and the description actually did contain the words seedy and sleazy and worth a look just for kicks. well i'm glad i can tick THAT off my itinerary. anyway it was too hot to walk around too much, and all the streets i took happened to lead me right back here, so i came back.
my mum's friend's sister called me and his son asked me if i wanted to go out tonight. with my overseas can-do attitude i said "erm....ok?" then he said "ok i'll call you before we go clubbing" and hung up. so apparently i'm going clubbing, with a bunch of boys i've never met, in a pressure cooker. I should bail. i need my sleep if i want to make the 10:30 cut-off for my breakfast buffet. waffles tomorrow?
i can't be bothered blogging in any coherent manner, outside is too hot and my room is too cold, i've brought no jumpers with me and nothing that covers up past my knees. any words of support can be sent to me on my temporary 3 phone number, or facebook. daphne, get facebook, because i can get on it through my phone. myspace spazzes it out.
i'm a little freaked. and not knowing what the hell i'm doing is a little scary. and the fact that i don't smell like myself (they didn't have my perfume at the duty free store at the air port) worries me a little too. i bought amarni code because i needed a smell, and my plane was having a final boarding call, and now i smell like an overpriced version of burberry brit, a bit like an expensive teddy bear. where are all the fun daggy people?
Saturday, June 30, 2007
utilities
when you break someone's heart you always shatter into pieces yourself. today was spent in a delirious daze of sobbing uncontrollably, whimpering in bed, manically dialing and hanging up, and finally letting the call get through and letting everything out in one outburst that became a mild panic attack where my body contorted and i couldn't breath. i can't begin to image what he is going through.
you do tend to think about the beginning, don't you? you can't help it, and you start pin pointing all the precise moments you screwed it up. some screw ups bigger than others. some are unforgivable and causes the kind of regret that ties up your intestines and makes you want to rip out your insides. and knowing that there is absolutely nothing i can do, but beg and cry.
i had my rally team of cheer me ups. high fidelity, mean girls, by the time i got to clueless i feel relatively ok again, to get myself to the point where i can come to accept the consequences, and accept my lot.
it changes you. each time it changes you a little. a little bit more resilient, or patient maybe? i owe so much to him, his energy, the constant wanting of bettering himself. but personality changes too, tastes. carnivale, all the noir we watched the books we shared. he fueled my unhealthy appetite of moleskines with noodler's ink, penguin reds, buying paperbacks, trolling JB, ikea, borders.. we did so many nothings that were all just perfect. i was collecting pieces of a new life, things that make me feel like i'm finally living for myself, but with him, and i'm pretty sure he was too.
there's a soreness of wanting the past to restore itself, and knowing that even if we were still together, nothing would be the same. feel like the biggest fool. i just want to be a part of his life.
i need a break
