I just got out of the Student Film Night, it brought back a lot of memories. I’m in that sappy mood where everything seems sentimental. I’m also in the mood where I don’t want to be with anyone else, I just want to either talk hardcore philosophy with people who are much smarter than me or just to be alone. I just checked the Drift e-mail and it turns out we can’t print until Thursday, so I guess we’re not going to do the pages anyway. He could print it at 1 a.m. tomorrow, but I don’t want to commit to that. I’m not sure. I’ll ask Molly. I hate that I have to go to work and go to school. Winter is putting me in full-on antisocial mode. Or maybe it’s because I’m hungry. I’m in such a bad mood. I’m in a bad enough mood to watch Nadja. Yep, that bad. I think that was the moment that I knew Taggart didn’t love me. He wouldn’t sit through my incredibly boring philosophical movie. I would sit through centuries of long, drawn out philosophical movies for someone I loved even a little bit. I hate this sentimentalism and I hate this mood, I guess I’m going to go back on my pledge not to talk about Amanda, since she said something to me today. Well, I should digress. I am amending my pledge to say that I won’t say anything negative about Amanda any more. That was the only real problem in my talking about her, upon deeper reflection. One of Tawna’s films was my idea, it involved me and Amanda walking through the forest and such, and when it was edited somebody put it to this romantic Beatles song. You can’t help feeling sentimental when you’re shown a video of something that you did that was really fun. After the movie night, Amanda said that she was sorry and asked if I would forgive her. “I don’t know,” I think I said. I’m probably going to regret mentioning this. Oh well. The thing about blogs is that I will feel totally different in fifteen minutes. I know that I’ve reached a point where I can no longer even entertain the possibility of being friends with Amanda again. The old adage goes “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.” It would take an immense display of maturity and well-adjustment before I would even consider such a thing.
Me and Tawna are having an ersatz intellectual conversation about the film night.
knittingmonkey: waht did you think of Brookes Reality piece
dariusofthedark: His attempts at allegory were amateurish at best and the “plot” was completely predictable, but the special effects were good
She likes Jonathon’s piece because it’s in black and white. That is the equivalent of saying that I like Samantha’s piece (which I did like, by the way) because it is done in color. Such lunacy. But Autumn’s piece is beyond description. Sometimes that is meant in a good way, sometimes it’s meant in a bad way. This is meant in a bad way. There was no discernable attempt at character, plot, setting, or basically anything salient. It was just a bunch of random footage taken in the dark.
OMG! I got a 10 on my English essay! It was even the one I thought was a complete vacuum of analytical thought! She wrote on it something to the effect of “This is exactly what an analysis essay should be” on it. If that’s the case, I should spend many more nights up until 2 a.m. writing essays. I think that the thing with that one is that I haven’t read it since I’ve turned it in. I think I have it on my hard drive somewhere, I should read it.
Wow, I loved that essay! I should totally post it for posterity. Posterity, yeah right. I often wonder what would happen to my computer if I died. I think it would just sit in here until my dad died. It would be even more disturbing if my parents finally tried to pay attention to me posthumously and try to find out what I’m interested in via looking at my computer. I would hope they wouldn’t find the porn. I really don’t know what they would think. They would read all my old e-mails, hmm. It would be really interesting.
I’ve been thinking a lot about enigmas lately, and how I want to be someone’s enigma, and I also want someone to be an enigma to me. People like Anus Face are flat characters that are real people. I think that in my entire time knowing Anus Face, his only catharsis was the decision to sell his sedan and get a pickup truck. Wow, those are mighty philosophical changes there. I want to meet a guy that has years of blog posts, years of old journal entries, boxes and boxes filled with short stories, photos, novel ideas, novellas, newspaper clippings, paintings, etc. I want to become totally immersed into the intellect of another person. I want to have (for lack of a better term) mind sex. I vehemently believe that you cannot truly love someone until you wholly and completely understand them. I know that this is never attainable (for the most part) but to try is to ignore the faults in the other person and just delve into their being. I’ve never met anyone like that. I hope I will. Yes, this is ending like John post and I don’t care. Suck on that. It’s one in the morning. Must go to sleep. Did I mention that we sent all the pages of the Drift tonight? Well if I did already then tough. I’m going to sleep.
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