The Enemy of the Good (eideteker) wrote,
The Enemy of the Good
eideteker

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Fuk DST

I'd been living without a watch for three days, telling time by the world around me. Today, I had to wear one because I wanted to be on time for Sin City. Got there just in time to sit through one preview (Dogtown) and then the movie started. But one day, when I am king, I will live a life ungoverned by watches and timepieces. I have a strong biological clock (usually wake up without an alarm), and so should be able to be where I want to be when I want to be, without any arbitrary "forwards" or "backwards". Up with the sun and down when I'm tired. Shouldn't be too hard, right?
"Out of touch with the weather and the wind direction
With the sunrise and the phases of the moon"
I started up my paper journal again today, after taking Becca's advice and heading to a diner and then a bookstore for some head-clearing "out of the house" time. I ranted about DST as above and also made some notes about RàC (can I keep tantalizing fans by mentioning it every time I work on it?). Most notably the phrase "fated not to die." I recall that the greek gods were not "immortal" so much as "fated not to die". Like Marv in Sin City, they got fucked up pretty badly on occasion, but were always saved somehow. In one scene Marv is shielded from almost point-blank gunfire by someone who just happens to run between him and his assailant (Nothing "spoiler" there, I think). Sure, he was tough and a badass, but not completely invulnerable. Since I was very into Greek Mythology at the time I created the characters, this does in fact play a factor. It's not like I forgot it; it's a fundamental premise for one of the characters. But I had forgotten the phrase. It's also integral to the definition of "hero" in many instances. Another way of looking at it with regard to heroes is that of course they get out of it because otherwise we wouldn't be hearing the story. The winners write history. The heroes are the heroes because if they just got shot and died, there would be nothing magnificent and well, story-worthy about them.
"Just an escape artist
racing against the night"
Thoughts fall about me like raindrops. And like the rain, it's impossible to stop the deluge. Hold on, stop, take a breath. Take several. You cannot stop the rain, but you can watch it fall. Don't close your eyes. Focus on the individual droplets. Together, they are a storm. Individually, they are fragile, jeweled teardrops from the heavens. Beautiful, fleeting; each, as it strikes the ground, sounds an ephemeral note to a haunting song. And, if you listen, each drop sings a single word that in a thousand staccato voices together say: "DON'T. LET. THIS. MOMENT. END."
—from my paper journal today
"Let us not go gently
to the endless winter night"
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