The Stranger

"Well we all have a face

That we hide away forever
And we take them out and show ourselves
When everyone has gone
Some are satin some are steel
Some are silk and some are leather
They're the faces of the stranger

But we love to try them on."

-"The Stranger", Billy Joel

(Youtube link for The Stranger)

As of recently, I've been doing a lot of self-reflecting; turning over and over again these thoughts of who I am, who I'm becoming; thinking about Sartre's theories on Existentialism, on how our actions, not our intentions, are what make us who we are, and if so than what of the choices I've made? I keep tilting towards dangerously depressed, then switching towards blankly pensive.

I tell myself I want to change the world, but what really can I do? I want to be remembered, but with history everyone is eventually forgotten. Still, though, this urge won't quell, not even slightly, hence the depression.

Then I change to thinking what's so great about me anyway? Why should people remember me? And really, honestly, there isn't a reason. 

To be honest, I don't even know who I am--sure I'm only 19 years old and all that, but I don't even have much of an inkling. I may have my emotions, my memories, my actions, and all that, but it's like that hole I mentioned in my first entry is some key part of finding out who I am. I suppose, though, as a start, I could try unmasking the stranger inside me, lurking deep in that hole in my chest, that stranger who appears so seldom and yet so fiercely.

Parallel Lines

"Come on, man! Don't you want to repair the world?"
"...What?"
"We're breaking the world. Don't you want to fucking repair it?"
-Leaves of Grass (2009)

To be honest, I'm not really much of a moviegoer, but I sure do love watching movies. I just feel like there's something more intimate about watching a movie at home, just me and the characters--even if it isn't in 3-D, or whatever. As I've gotten older, I've come to love movies as much as books, which, for those who know me, is quite a love.

Through these movies, naturally I've developed a cast of favorite actors and actresses (Michael Caine, Susan Sarandon, and Humphrey Bogart, to name a few). Battling for the top spot, though, is none other than Edward Norton.

For whatever reason, whenever I mention he's one of my favorite modern actors, people give me a weird look like "What? Who's he?" At which part I sigh and mutter, "The guy from Fight Club."

Not that Fight Club isn't a fabulous movie--it's downright amazing! Thanks to the concept developed in the novel (of the same name) by Chuck Palahniuk and the brilliant performances by Brad Pitt and Edward Norton, Fight Club is a story about so--SO--much more than fighting. It's just one of those movies I could probably never tire talking about; it's so full of themes and ideas that are so intriguing and, for the most part (from what I think I know of the male psyche), I think they're shakingly true.

But that's not the film I started this post to talk to you guys about. No, that would be Leaves of Grass.

First the title caught my attention, with its reference to Walt Whitman's famous collection of poems; secondly the fact that Edward Norton was in it caught my interest; thirdly I read he played both of the main characters--and I had to watch it.

Its basic plot is about two (identical) twins, Bill and Brady, who are extremely different; Bill is an accomplished Philosophy professor in Rhode Island, while Brady is a pot farmer in Oklahoma. However, when Brady gets in a serious pickle, he gets his brother to come back home and help him out.

This movie surprised me. After reading the vague plot on imdb.com (nifty little site, that one), I admit I wasn't expecting too much--even though Edward Norton was in it.

Then I watched the movie. And I loved it.

Leaves of Grass is by no means a "perfect" movie, but I saw these sparks of genius that...really got to me. I mean, I don't want to spoil it for anyone who might end up checking it out, because it is certainly worth sticking it out for, so I guess you'll just have to trust me on its awesomeness. The beginning 50-75% of the movie's plot is, I admit, kind of average, but the climax.... damn.

To give you a taste, though, perhaps my favorite concept from this movie is told by Brady when his friend asks him if he thinks there's a God. He talks about how the idea of parallel lines (two lines that go on forever but never intersect) is more of a concept really since we know about it, but we can never achieve it ourselves in the actual physical world--that parallel lines only truly exist in the world of mathematics. It's the same way with God. And I just fell in love with this idea. It's...honest, and makes sense really--at least to me.

But. Maybe it's just me. I,, however, think this movie is amazing, and has, at the very least, some great scenes and lines. I highly recommend it to everyone to at least give it an honest shot.

Damsels

Today while lazying around my home, on vacation and yet half wishing i was back at school so at least i wouldn't be so bored, i really got to working on this new idea i had for a novel.

(For those who don't know me, i've been an aspiring writer since 5th grade--aka approximately 8 years now. scary thought...)

The other day i ran out of books to read (i long ago read all the books in the local library and my personal collection is temporarily stunted since being a poor college student i can only afford so many new books), and i got to thinking about my favorite books, my favorite characters, and why they were my favorites. And what i realized was that nine times out of ten my favorite character is also a male character. Usually (or at least in the books i've read), the female characters, whether protagonist or supporting, annoy the hell out of me. They complain, worry, fantasize, and are overtly irrational and unbelievably hormonal and dramatic. Its ridiculous. There's just too many damsels in distress for my taste. And when they aren't, there's no growth. i mean, COME ON. For the story to be worth telling, your character needs to GROW. ANY writer knows THAT.

So. i decided to create a likable female character. Or, rather, a more human, less ditzy female character.

Enter Vanessa.

19 years old, stuck between adolescence and womanhood (whatever that IS anyway), she's the subtle black sheep of her family, of her time period. You see, after World War III--a heinous outbreak of atomic bombs and general human stupidity--only about half the world was left, and only about a quarter of the population. As you can imagine, there also weren't many resources--but there was technology. Now, in a world slowly being overtaken by technology that's also falling apart, can Vanessa find her way, her purpose in life? Or is she and the human race doomed to be consumed by their own mistakes?

Sounds good, right? Trust me, i've got it like all outlined in my head and DAMN is it exciting! i can't wait to write it! it just seems so daunting, ya know? But i'm gonna finish this one. i have to. or i'd be letting you guys out there down. You guys deserve to have the option to read this story. i mean, of course, assuming you'd want to that is.....

Sirens

Is it possible to forget once you've heard a siren's song? Once you've heard their voice, can you forget it? Or are you doomed to die? Doomed to always remember the temptation of their irresistible song?

Beauty

"Mirror, mirror on the wall
who's the fairest of them all?"
-Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)

Call me strange, but I find mirrors interesting. When I was younger I used to try to write messages backwards so when I held it up to our bathroom mirror it would read correctly in the reflection. I never did quite get the hang of it, though.

Especially nowadays, it seems that people expect so much from their reflections. They gaze into the mirror and expect beauty to be gazing back at them. Despite their hopes, though, unfortunately sometimes beauty isn't what they see.

This past semester at college I met someone who, in my mind, had literally gone through hell and is still going through it. He also told me that, because of certain past events, there are some days when he can't look in the mirror, days when he simply can't face his reflection, face himself. Through a series of unfortunate events, I don't know if/when I'll even see him again, but if I do, there's something I'd like to tell him, and it's something I think a lot of people should hear from someone at least once.

That person you see in the mirror? That person staring back at you? They're a reflection of what's inside you, and you shouldn't be scared to face them. Even if you've been through hell, even if you question actions you took in the past, you're beautiful. I wish you could see that. Please don't run from your reflection,  from yourself, or you're always going to be miserable, and you'll probably end up reducing yourself to a lonely old mess. Why banish yourself? Why turn away from your reflection when there's so much already there? Can't you see it? I can. Your reflection is you, and you are beautiful.

Love

"I'll kiss you in London
love you in France
sunsets in Germany
in Spain we can slow dance."
-Summer Tongues, Anchor&Braille
Youtube link for "Summer Tongues"

What is love anyway? Does anyone know? Attraction? Affection? Where is the line between love and lust? Is there a line? Or more of a gray smudge? All I know is, whatever it could be blooming in my chest, it feels good. Damn, does it feel good.

And who knows? Maybe it'll be able to fill that hole of mine. Or, at the very least, make it less noticeable....