Friday, October 30, 2009
Saturday, December 6, 2008
The TV is flickering images from a film I've always loved. I know most people probably would never want to see it again, if they ever saw it in the first place, but Notting Hill really is one of my favorites.
So tonight with the cold air seeping through the windows and the radiator spewing out steam, I sit with a half empty glass of Le Grand Noir (or a flat Mountain Dew, whichever you prefer) resting on the hardwood floor, my eyes transfixed on a television I won in some weird college casino thing. This film has always evoked emotion in me, like most romantic films do, but tonight for some reason it's bringing out more than the usual. Maybe its because half an hour before I was trying to write some lame sad song, which is par for the course, that was failing miserably (also par for the course). But really I think because tonight I've allowed myself to be transposed into the film and let my (barely surviving) imagination sweep me away. And deep down I'm a complete and hopeless (if not somewhat of a failed) romantic and am waiting for a cinematic plot line, similar to the one Hugh Grant experiences, to storm in and take me by surprise (hopefully sooner than later).
I really love when those feelings sweep over me. Scratch that, I really crave for those feelings to sweep over me. But tonight I'll finish my wine, and pass out on the couch with the dvd menu continually repeating itself. And tomorrow I'll wake up early and drive an hour to play bass for the Lord, and sheepishly wait for something to happen (like Ben Gibbard sang.)
Sorry if this was poorly written, not to mention a bit boring, but its real and the truth and from the heart...... or some shit like that.
"I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her. "....... seriously you can't beat that line.