why does love always feel like a
battlefield.
battlefield.
Writing/blogging again feels strange. Perhaps had I not given into the somewhat innate nature of mine to procrastinate & dillydally, the words might flow more smoothly; sifting through my mental vocabulary for the appropriate words to weave a story might not have been such a struggle either.
Perfectionist genes: cue mental sigh.
I realize my initiative to blog has somehow averted directions; interesting how time creates a space for you to mould and shift the constructs of your life. Keeps life interesting I suppose :)
I settled in to catch the last half hour or so of Titanic, my contented belly filled slightly too much over the brim. (buffet style, shame on you for expecting any less of me. (:) I kid. Anyway, minutes later I find myself clicking my way to blogger, (right now), thinking.
Thinking. Writing;
Years later having watched the exact same movie for the umpteenth time, James Cameron has once again managed to tug my heartstrings in four separate directions, leaving me both breathless and slightly agonized. Fiction it may be, but the story that is the love between Jack & Rose is simply breathtaking.
Typing this I can almost feel my heart leaden with heaviness with the knowledge that 1500 people died that night; out of the 6 boats, only one came back.
ONE.
Sometimes I really don't know why I put myself through all this -.- knowing that later I will be experiencing emotions one does not quite fancy feeling right before bedtime. Same with Jodi Picoult books; she lures me in with her victimized characters & heartbreaking plot, shattering little pieces of my heart everytime I read a chapter.
By the end of it I'm left with a pile of mush. I should just sweep myself up in the beginning and save myself the hassle. This is the kind of internal struggle I put myself through, brilliant.
I suppose the thing that always draws me to things like that is the idea of the frailty of humanity. Yet somehow beneath the flawed, lies an amazing strength and power to love, to survive.
I guess it's because underneath my facade of cynicism and skeptical-ness, it's these fabrications that ignites the hope deep within me; sometimes you just have to believe and have faith. :)
4 comments:
haha smalls! i totally agree about the jodi piccoult books! my sister's keeper had me sad for days!=(
melch! I KNOW -.- i'm reading 19 minutes now. heartwrenching! sigh. missyou! x
i bought 19 minutes when it first came out because my sister's keeper made me think a little, but i never got around to actually reading it. i think i was unhappy with the cover -.-" no uniformity (i also have.. the one with trixie stone?). and after reading the trixie stone one (which had a similar cover style to my sister's keeper!!), i found that.. jodi piccoult is not for me ): i can only read so many of one writer's works, when they've got similar themes.. okay, i think maybe this is only valid with tragedy-ey stories?
jack & rose. so sweet right! haha (: but. hm.. do you think, maybe if they had lived longer, maybe they'd have moved on to other people? like. hm..
aih. if only we could like sit and chat and muse.. together-gether!
missyou smalls! (cannot say melch here cos i already commented on her blog and i mustn't be unfair! haha) x
haha yes i missyou both! my sister's keeper made me think too, but yeha i agree after awhile most of her books have similar-ish themes, then they get boring. haha. yes a good chat is needed! you know, sometimes i wonder why we need books/movies etc to make us think, what ever happened to original thought?
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