asdfjklsemicolon.com

The site in the title appears to have terminated, and the only way I was allowed to even compose an entry in the hope it could be sent was when I found it embedded in a blog on Google.

The point is that you send this site/person anything - "...something interesting. Tell me about how your day went. Tell me about ancient Roman trade routes. Tell me a funny joke. Anything at all. This is your website now and I am your audience." - and, while you do not get a reply, you get to ramble quite a bit and know that you are getting an audience. Here is what I came up with, while drunk of Morrissey and Magners cider. I rather like it - it's a little work of blogging art in itself.



"I had a very enlightening conversation with my most interesting friend today - you may or may not remember that about a year ago she complained to you about the school's failiure to cast her in a main part in that year's production of 'Les Miserables' - this year it's Sweeny Todd, and the cast list goes up on Monday. Hopefully she will have reason to be singing 'Green Finch and Linnet Bird' in our ears for two thirds of the time that any of our little 'gang' is in her presence. She deserves it.

Anyway, we got onto talking about time travel, and I realised only during my conversation with her what my belief is concerning time: You know in films when a big, stone bridge in a cavernous place is collapsing, and the protagonist is running to as not to fall into the abyss underneath this bridge, but nonetheless it is falling away under their feet while they run, and yet not fast enough to quite catctch up with them and take them down with it? (the most literal example of this that I can think of is in Hellboy - it's been a while since I embarked on the Lord of The Rings DVDs as I feel they need to be done justice and watched all at once, however inconvenient this is for someone as very get-go and Gemini as me, but I get the feeling that something similar happens right before Gandalf the Grey dies. I never did read the books.) Anyway, I see time like that. It's thundering along and collapsing behind us, and each instant is immediately lost even before we can realise that it is existing, right Now, and the concept of Now does not even exist, because time moves too fast for us to comprehend - that bridge is always crumbling, and it is crumbling right underneath our feet.

Anyway, it was a fulfilling and entertaining conversation that took about an hour and left my ear rather enflamed. Of course, we didn't spend an hour talking about time/time travel. By the way, her view on it is that she very much dislikes the idea that the future, past and present are all happening at once, because that means that everyone is on a pre-determined path, but she feels she believes it anyway, because she believes in time travel, and that is the theory that supports it the most. I believe the world is in constant chaos, and in the butterfly effect, and that there is no such thing as a predetermined path and that 'anything can happen in the next five minutes' (or, indeed, five hours, days, years etc). Therefore, I do not believe in time travel. Having said that, I adore the movie Donnie Darko - although I must have known in my heart of heart that I believe what I have just articulated and did not know I believed until about an hour and a half ago for quite some time, because I have always seen it purely as a work of fiction - a work of art, in fact. I watch it because it's beautiful. Not specifically Jake Gylennhall, but he adds a nice touch. No, just the cinematography and the music and all that. I fall into that film and I stay there for the rest of the day. I never watch it in the mornings. Too detrimental to my alertness and my overall daily potential. It's like drugs.

Anyway, I hope I have intrigued and entertained you. I may be writing again soon. This reminds me rather of Morrissey's legendary letters from the early eighties to a penpal which surfaced on the internet a while back - you only get one side of the correspondance. In fact, if I sound rather snotty this evening, it is because I have just been reading said correspondance for the second time. It's pretty entertaining if you know at all who Morrissey is - but I don't know if you know who Morrissey is. I don't know who you are at all - age, gender, demographic. Oh dear. I had hoped to save the articulation of this realisation until the second time I write you.
If it would so entertain you, I enclose the link.Thus.

Oh dear. I sound like Morrissey in his early twenties. At least I'm not calling things Deco, man.

Why am I saying 'Oh dear'? I'm positively thrilled to channel his spirit! I'm a teenage girl, barely in the hallway of her sixteenth year, and yet I am so deliciously sesquipedalian and concerning myself with such deep subjects as the rate at which we are hurtling through time and to what degree the bridge that crumbles behind us is destroyed, that I may as well cease to lower myself with such things as GCSEs (which I am coping rather disastrously with - mocks next week, shock, horror).


Anyway, my youth and greeness will thus be emphasised by the fact that I've just been kicked off the computer.

Yours youngly,
Abigail"
Posted on November 15th, 2008 at 05:26pm

Comments

Post a comment


You have to log in before you post a comment.

Site info | Contact | F.A.Q. | Privacy Policy

2014 © GeekStinkBreath.net
Register