Watched Fight Club

or at least the last bit. I walked in when he meets Tyler on the plane, just about before that.

...Tripped me out. To say the least.

I've never had a movie do quite that same thing to me.

Let go.

I hope that I get old before I die

When I was a very little kid, I read a book, a very good book, called Annie and the Old One. A little girl, can't remember which tribe, loved her grandmother very much. Her grandmother knew that she was dying, and told her family that she was going to live long enough to finish the (blanket? rug? whatever it was that she was weaving) and then she would die.

Annie was understandably upset, and to keep her grandmother alive, started to sneak out at night and unweave what had been woven the day before. Grandma caught on, and told Annie how things were, that she had to move on, and so forth. Grandma finished the rug and died with grace and dignity.

Before I die, I wish to finish my novel. It remains to convince my psyche that finishing my novel won't necessarily make me die; there are other things to be done with my life, but finishing my novel is a big issue with me.

...I want it to be written well.

copy/paste of comment to fosfomifira: Labels

I play with labels as I did with my father's label machine when I was small. I took it and affixed multiple labels to everything, making it twice as confusing, to try and read them all. "Joanie's Drawer." "Secret." "Do not open." "Warning!!!!!"

I have a collection of attitude buttons at home, pins with sarcastic slogans. I think my favorite (at the moment) is "My Life Is An Open Comic Book". I have so many of them... I have this purple hat, a rather silly one with a brim and plenty of space on it to pin all these pins, with all these slogans that describe attitudes I do hold or have held at some point in time. You can read my hat and tell quite a bit about me, if you take the time.

I collect labels. I subscribe to the Mr. Potatohead school of pop psychology. There used to be a childrens' toy, a little potato-shaped doll with holes in him. You had eyes, a whole different bunch of eyes, you could put on him. Big eyes, little eyes, silly eyes... I think he had glasses-eyes too. Different mouths. Different ears. Different shoes. You could mix and match each of his little body-part accessories, and come up with not an infinite number of different looks for him, but a decently large number. There are so many different labels out there, if you collect a sufficiently large number about yourself, you can create an image that, if not exactly you, will pass for you on close glance.

Deathwishes

My high school best friend Shawn told me once that should he die, he wanted the quote, "Good night, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest," from Hamlet, on the gravestone. Votania mentioned that the last two tracks of the Godsmack album that's got Voodoo on it are a necessity. wiredferret came up with the list that's linked in the title. It's a useful idea.


"In case of accident, donate my remaining body parts. It's the Betan way. Waste not, want not." --paraphrased from Cordelia.

My family's preferred method of body disposal is cremation. I have no problem with this.

Let my memorial ceremony be outdoors, with reading of quotes and poetry, and singing, rather than a doleful indoor ceremony with one speaker babbling.

I hope to leave this life as I entered, hating no one, loving all. I'm not doing too badly, at the moment, on that front.

A part of me shall always remain: my shell in your memories, my works of Craft and art, my writings. Perhaps more. The essential I that is more than the sum of my experiences, the spark, light source, shining through my gels, is eternal and has already returned, time and again, again, again.

If I leave unfinished writings, do not publish solely in my name, nor solely in the name of the completer. Leave the unfinished version available. If one person's going to write fic to finish it, let all. Writing often takes screen captures of the soul of the writer. Give credit where it's due. My journals and other writings are there to be read, regardless of content. Had it been too private a memory for other eyes, it would have been burned after its writing.

Any child of mine, if not yet at majority, shall have a voice in the selection of his/her future caregivers.

If I have any regrets, it is that fear, hesitation, have held me back: I have not loved as much as I might have. Give your love freely. Be prudent with body, heart, and soul -- but give your love.

Let my books be given to one who will value them for the worlds they unlock, before they set a price on the paper.


I have no intent to die for a good long time yet.

English: "People Don't Know Right from Wrong Anymore" Lillian B. Rubin

Standard Disclaimer: This is homework. This is a summary in progress for English class. I swear to gods, if any complete bozo uses my work without due credit in their English class, using my journal as source, I am going to have to get excessively unhappy.

First up: dividing the essay into general sections.
Interesting essay. I'm to pump out a rough summary of it tomorrow.

( Read more... )

Now if only I would take my own advice...

If there's a piece of particularly purple prose that I'm especially attached to, even after people have told me that it's nasty, it's run-on, it's evil -- even if I can see these things for myself, but I still love it (for some bizarre reason known only to the depths of my psyche) -- I should put it in a romance novel that a character puts down in disgust.