got me self a tumblr need to start and finish my ling assignement. need to sleep fucking hate rez. fucking hate st. patricks day hotboxed my closet cantwait till this weekend and shooting film in old montreal with priya bed now. tumblr is "gay". tell me what you think.
everyone wants to be a bond girl, mix up with some dangerous folk, fuck a Michael Westin. why is that? chuck klosterman covered the spectrum of fake love, measuring up to the fictional, losing not only to a character but the screenplay writer responsible for the quote. Ive been watching Burn Notice lately, really not bad. Nice Pierrot le fou parallels if the Ferdinand and Marianne were intelligent and spy-worthy. they were ofcourse not, and probably couldnt sustain a 11 episode first season. Gabrielle Anwar would be Godard's wetdream, shes a leathery anna karina, smaller eyes, cuter nose. Jeffrey Donavan's character a little rougher but definitely a zoom-in for me, personally. I tend to like them not as pretty-boy'd. McGayver-esque reminds me of Nickell, sensational back. Whats really interesting is their dynamic. now this is good. the reverse chase, the stoic 'i cants' from a man obsessing over his burn notice, the knocked out 'fi', nicknames are a curious thing, here its the best of its kind. Even past a mr. and mrs. smith level its all kinds of hot. I like how she chases, i like the uncovered story about love at first war zone, i like how he says no, i like how she never stops, i like how they sleep facing different directions. real relationships arent like this. thats precisely why this is so much better. i mean, the sexiest scene between the two actually occurs in the process of bomb making. ceran wrap some c-41 dynomite with lip biting. god fi, youre breaking my heart.
on to michael. this isnt prison break; this michael doesnt brood with fairy blue eyes and actually taps that ass once in a while. the main critique's been the narration style of the show, smug some say. fuck, what is hotter than Smug? Please tell me about the pillars of survaillence. pretty please scold me on making a cellphone bomb. i think weve moved on to a side of television where humor is dry to a point where it isnt humor anymore. thats not the intent. the intent is gunpowder and fun. the grown up james franco look is a plus. the blueberry yogurt red herring is cute. the 'not giving in to fi' is absolutely scorching. by jove, theyve cracked the code, somewhere behind the brains of the operation is a woman staff writer into powerplay sex. thats always how that starts. men like this dont get made, dont get taught, dont have any ambition to be great anymore. fucking settlers all of them.
oh, something else. the chin. that jaw. your jaw single-handed changed the way i think about all jaws. damn.
just finished my linguistics midterm, its all uppity and sleet storms. its warm today though the snow might throw you off. Montreal might not have the most comforting skies, but the blue is unbeatable. its glows through the grime. its a Xiu Xiu song. its trudge trudge trudge till you break through some how and catch your breath. 2 days in a psych ward and im ready to book to ottawa for another hideaway. March is a folklore militant American Lit midterm, leadership seminars, and apartment hunting. I dont Strive to be a douglas coupland character, sometimes its just the way the chips fall (well, maybe a little)
If the world that we are forced to accept is false and nothing is true, then everything is possible. On the way to discovering what we love, we will find everything we hate, everything that blocks our path to what we desire. The comfort will never be comfortable for those who seek what is not on the market. A systematic questioning of the idea of happiness. We'll cut the vocal chords of every empowered speaker. We'll yank the social symbols through the looking glass. We'll devalue society's currency. To confront the familiar. Society is a fraud so complete and venal... that it demands to be destroyed beyond the power of memory to recall its existence. Where there's fire, we will carry gasoline. Interrupt the continuum of everyday experience... and all the normal expectations that go with it. To live as if something actually depended on one's actions. To rupture the spell of the ideology of the commodified consumer society... so that our oppressed desires of a more authentic nature can come forward. To demonstrate the contrast between what life presently is and what it could be. To immerse ourselves in the oblivion of actions and know we're making it happen. There will be an intensity never before known in everyday life... to exchange love and hate, life and death, terror and redemption, repulsions and attractions. An affirmation of freedom so reckless and unqualified, that it amounts to a total denial of every kind of restraint and limitation. - Hey, old man, what you doing up there? - I'm not sure. You need any help getting down, sir? No, I don't think so. Stupid bastard. No worse than us. He's all action and no theory. We're all theory and no actions. Why so glum, Mr. Deborg? What was missing was felt irretrievable. The extreme uncertainties... of subsisting without working... made excesses necessary... and breaks definitive. To quote Stevenson: "Suicide carried off many. " Drink and the devil... took care of the rest."
its like we jumped universes overnight. i sprayed some escada on erins scarf before i left, so it would smell like a different side of me that i only become when. -im around people i love. but its not even that simple to put it like that, i can access an entire seperate part of myself that feels for better things in ottawa, i want to Live in that part of myself. i think montreal`s wearing me down, like that owen palett song, and im breaking apart hard. and without a win too. :(
(and so marks the first and last occasion in which i use an emoticon. sorry die hard fans, im clearly much weaker than i thought)
