Thursday, December 07, 2006

the deadlock.

Paranoia Agent isn't the anime I hoped that it would be. At least, it hasn't established itself in the first two minutes as anything I'd want to pay attention to. I'm speed typing away on my sidekick, though, while I watch the end of the second episode. There are some cool ideas at work, visually. But the only characters that they've established are peripheral; ones that pop in sporadically. I know them more than I know the ones who are taking up most of the screen time. This is the kind of thing that steers me away from the genre. Sometimes, it's better to just watch television. While this medium has a TON of potential, it doesn't fully represent itself the way I know it could. I'm just about ready to take this and the next volume back without watching the rest.

What it seems to me is the entire series is a bunch of short stories that are tied together very loosely due to a storyline that cycles in the city.

I'm trying out Desert Punx next, because the imagery on that seemed interesting. Post-apocalyptic and desolate, with lots of gasmasks. Sounds like a good place to start.

I watched Girl, Interrupted the other night.
It brought me places.

It's kind of bizarre to think about contact, and lack thereof, and the thought that it could be everyone's fault, or my fault, or their fault, or no one's fault at all. Contact. It's like Team Miscommunication continues and continues without us even saying a word.

I'm going downstairs to get a snapple. I think. As a matter of fact, I'm walking to 7-11 to get a snapple. I want to use up more time.
-- and it isn't until now that I realize what David meant about Snapple being readily available up north.

I got water instead.

Love is hard. Just like Art is hard. Just like Creating is hard. The way this Love is, anyway. And I'm not sure if it's Justine, or Me, or Miami, or the fact that neither of us is Home. But it's choppier than I remember. A more involved beginning than I remember. More intense in every way than I've ever remembered. It's just new, I guess. Someone different, and a completely unpracticed way of doing things. That's the way it should always be. Relationships and matters of the heart aren't like math classes. There is no cumilative knowledge. Everything you learn is about yourself. And you can only hope to be able to use what you've learned. But nothing has ever been the way I've remembered it before. Nothing has ever been the same.

I've never been able to say,
"I remember this part."

Even when everything was happening over the phone, again. It was still all brand new.

Rahul plans to call tonight.
Brian called me Sunday.
I've actually seen Dave twice.
Kerry called Thursday.
Kailyn still makes frequent contact through several different airwaves.
Carissa is nonexistant.
Nicole and I shared some huge e-mails.
I miss Anthony, but we try.

The people that matter,
they're all trying.

(to be continued)

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