I remember the last time Satan handed me a glass of ice water. It all started when I went out to get the mail and found my mailbox on fire. Although it happens from time to time, it is shocking none the less. After getting my mailbox put out, I find the singed red envelope. On the front it only says: To Jenny. I already know what's inside; however, I open it anyway, it's an invitation to one of Lucifer's dinner parties. Since he knows I always show up, there is no need to RSVP.
The moment I step on his front porch he swings open the door. He never says a word to me; he doesn't have to, because we can read each other like a book. I know he is looking over my attire, inspecting it. He seems to approve of my choice for the evening, for it is a red halter dress, knee length, with a scooping neck. He kisses my cheek as I walk through the door. He even holds my hand all the way to the table where he seats me between Gandhi and John F. Kennedy. Though they are interesting men, it is the Man in Black, brother of Jeordie White, who has captured my attention. He is right across the table from me; consequently, when we hold up our goblets of dragon blood wine, our eyes meet and hold a second to long.
Dinner seems to drag on, for on one side of me JFK tries to hold my attention with politics and on the other Gandhi tries with religion. Although I have been invited as Lucifer's concubine, all I want to do is talk to the Man in Black. Not only does he carry a sheaf of arrows but he also has a long samurai sword at his side. On his left arm he wears a gauntlet made of black leather with silver pyramid studs on it. Although his skin is pale, you can see the fatigued look in his eyes from travel. As I watch his long black hair shining in the light, Satan walks up and hands me a glass of ice water. Lucifer pays no attention to my wandering eyes.
After dinner I find myself sitting on a red velvet couch talking to the Man in Black. He is talking about the magic held in his gauntlet and how he uses it as his shield. He has been fighting demons in the outer-boundaries and he has come here tonight to find his replacement. At this point in the conversation he looks at me. Somehow I know what is coming as he hands me his sword and gauntlet, I am to replace him. I slip on the gauntlet; it fits perfectly as if made for me. My other hand finds the sword and starts swinging it as if I have been doing it my whole life. I can feel the magic that runs through the items I am holding and it starts to penetrate my veins.
My phone starts to ring. I wake up and look around my shoe box of an apartment with its 1970's ghetto fabulous wood paneled walls. At that moment I realize that magic no longer exist in this world. The fairytales of Merlin, pixies, and Rapunzel are lies. I can feel a part of myself die as this thought takes hold of my mind. I feel silly as a tear rolls down my cheek but I know deep down inside that this is a realization that would cripple the strongest of minds.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Throw away age
The age of the throw away culture. My lease on my car was up so what did I do, I leased a new car. Damn it is a nice car. Push button start, sunroof, Bluetooth for my phone, Bose speakers, plays MP3’s, quite inside and out. Graduating, new guy, new car, new city, new hair cut, does this give way to a new life?
This is not the first time I have up and relocated, leaving everything behind. I believe in reinventing myself everyday, break up the monotony. When you spend 16+ hours a day with yourself it can get relatively boring if you don’t mix it up. Those who don’t get board with themselves are too simple or drama addicts.
It has now been five years in the same town, with the same people, the same job, the same old shit day in and day out. I don’t understand how people do this for 20 years at a time. Going to the same job, living in the same house, raising kids, dropping them off at school everyday for 12 years.
Betzy. She is my best friend but completely opposite of me. No matter what, I’ll keep her in my life. How we ever ended up as friends is beyond me. Her number one goal in life was to be mom. I was floored. I would never. I only found this out when the kid was three. She got her associates degree in something or another, worked at a dead end job at an insurance claims place, only left because she got laid off, now works at a hospital in the insurance department. She will never leave this job.
She bought a house, which means she will never leave Grand Island. Betzy is rooted down, happy as a clam. This leads to some crazy conversations. I’ll call her and ask for advice. She is good with advice, will tell me how she sees it, and she is right even when I don’t want to hear it. But she put down roots and my bohemian/gypsy blood cause me to spread my wings and fly away. Betzy keeps me grounded, that’s why I love her, even if we don’t see eye to eye. We never do.
Others have stated that they wish they could have my gypsy nature but they don’t know the sacrifice that it takes. Being able to move to a new town and start a new life is amazing but finding another whose wings fly the same path is virtually impossible. The probability of finding that person who I can fall asleep with every night and still get to kiss them good morning is boarding on nonexistent. Betzy promises me it will happen when I settle down. But I can’t settle down and the crushing weight that truth is loneliness.
This ability to throw it all away and live the gypsy life comes from the deep seeded need to not end up like my parents. They were from the age of collecting, from a time where you didn’t waste anything. I refuse to collect junk that I don’t use. This includes people, places, and things. Remember that if you don’t use it, throw it away. Embrace the throw away age!
So off to San Francisco to my new school, new apartment, new roommate, with my new car, new hair, to start a whole new life. And I get to do it all by myself. The choices I make will determine where my path leads but when I jump into my car and start driving westward that path will be as foggy as a San Francisco morning.
This is not the first time I have up and relocated, leaving everything behind. I believe in reinventing myself everyday, break up the monotony. When you spend 16+ hours a day with yourself it can get relatively boring if you don’t mix it up. Those who don’t get board with themselves are too simple or drama addicts.
It has now been five years in the same town, with the same people, the same job, the same old shit day in and day out. I don’t understand how people do this for 20 years at a time. Going to the same job, living in the same house, raising kids, dropping them off at school everyday for 12 years.
Betzy. She is my best friend but completely opposite of me. No matter what, I’ll keep her in my life. How we ever ended up as friends is beyond me. Her number one goal in life was to be mom. I was floored. I would never. I only found this out when the kid was three. She got her associates degree in something or another, worked at a dead end job at an insurance claims place, only left because she got laid off, now works at a hospital in the insurance department. She will never leave this job.
She bought a house, which means she will never leave Grand Island. Betzy is rooted down, happy as a clam. This leads to some crazy conversations. I’ll call her and ask for advice. She is good with advice, will tell me how she sees it, and she is right even when I don’t want to hear it. But she put down roots and my bohemian/gypsy blood cause me to spread my wings and fly away. Betzy keeps me grounded, that’s why I love her, even if we don’t see eye to eye. We never do.
Others have stated that they wish they could have my gypsy nature but they don’t know the sacrifice that it takes. Being able to move to a new town and start a new life is amazing but finding another whose wings fly the same path is virtually impossible. The probability of finding that person who I can fall asleep with every night and still get to kiss them good morning is boarding on nonexistent. Betzy promises me it will happen when I settle down. But I can’t settle down and the crushing weight that truth is loneliness.
This ability to throw it all away and live the gypsy life comes from the deep seeded need to not end up like my parents. They were from the age of collecting, from a time where you didn’t waste anything. I refuse to collect junk that I don’t use. This includes people, places, and things. Remember that if you don’t use it, throw it away. Embrace the throw away age!
So off to San Francisco to my new school, new apartment, new roommate, with my new car, new hair, to start a whole new life. And I get to do it all by myself. The choices I make will determine where my path leads but when I jump into my car and start driving westward that path will be as foggy as a San Francisco morning.
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Burn After Reading
With an all stare cast that includes John Malkovich, Brad Pitt, and George Clooney a moviegoer would expect an award-winning plot. "Burn After Reading" wasn't nominated for any Oscars awards.
I'm a huge fan of total messed up movies, American Beauty, Eternal Sunshine, and Closer all fall into that category. All are movies that involve either heart break, death, and/or sleeping around with other peoples spouses. Burn after reading has all of my favorite aspects for a movie but fell short on any true meaning.
I don't believe in movies with happy endings because real life is in high demand yet short supply of happy endings. I want movies that give me the real life pain that is floating around other people’s lives. I can either sympathize with movies like that or fell good that my own life isn't like that. Burn After Reading has no happy ending but falls short on being a movie one can relate to.
People are sleeping around with each other and everyone is within 6 degrees of one another and this can be related to. Innocent people getting killed because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and this can be related to. There was a group of men that belonged to some government group who held no reliance to the plot of the movie and that could not be related to.
The opening scene that had the men in suits added to the movie but the rest of the scenes with them in it didn't. The movie would have made more sense and been easier for me to follow if they had cut the men in suits out of it completely.
This could have been a great movie. It held all the elements that I enjoy. It also held those men in suits that didn’t add to the plot of the movie at all.
Trailer?
I'm a huge fan of total messed up movies, American Beauty, Eternal Sunshine, and Closer all fall into that category. All are movies that involve either heart break, death, and/or sleeping around with other peoples spouses. Burn after reading has all of my favorite aspects for a movie but fell short on any true meaning.
I don't believe in movies with happy endings because real life is in high demand yet short supply of happy endings. I want movies that give me the real life pain that is floating around other people’s lives. I can either sympathize with movies like that or fell good that my own life isn't like that. Burn After Reading has no happy ending but falls short on being a movie one can relate to.
People are sleeping around with each other and everyone is within 6 degrees of one another and this can be related to. Innocent people getting killed because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and this can be related to. There was a group of men that belonged to some government group who held no reliance to the plot of the movie and that could not be related to.
The opening scene that had the men in suits added to the movie but the rest of the scenes with them in it didn't. The movie would have made more sense and been easier for me to follow if they had cut the men in suits out of it completely.
This could have been a great movie. It held all the elements that I enjoy. It also held those men in suits that didn’t add to the plot of the movie at all.
Trailer?
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