juno eight

I know that if I had watched this back when Hunter and I weren't speaking, I would've cried. Because I want to now, and I'm not totally sure why. I would've cried because I was sad, but it couldn't possibly not make me feel happy, regardless of the vulnerable heartbreak state. If what I'm feeling is indeed happy, it has to be because I suddenly feel so much less alone. They stole lines, they stole conversations, they stole introspection from my life, they stuck it in this movie and I felt part of something else. The woman who wrote this script must be cut from the same strange fabric that I was, because this flick has really resonated in me.

If I had watched this when it first came out, when I wanted to, it wouldn't have hit me this hard because I didn't go through the first stages of this raw self-discovery until I got dumped for no reason at all. For some strange reason, Hunter got a vibe that he just wouldn't like the movie, so I never went to see it with him. I swear to god, it's stuff like this that makes me seriously believe that everything happens for a reason and that things fall into place the way they do because they're supposed to even when it seems really shitty or just strange. This is another layer to my molting process, this is just one more way that God or Buddha or freaking Vishna or Shiva or whatever name that the spiritual being who is running my life goes by is making me understand just who the hell I am.

I'm so excited. I want to know more. I want to see more movies, read more books, make more connections and piece together the person I am bit by bit because the progression is the best part, the feeling that I'm taking baby steps and that every step feels brand new and beautiful. This kind of exhilaration should be illegal. My run-on sentences should be, too. I'm starting to type too much like I think, in long, rushed, oddly punctuated thoughts and...fuck it, I can't think of a better word, weirdities.

All right, this is ridiculous. I'm happy as hell about finding more out about me but Hunter's still bobbing around in my head and pressing me to blog a bit about him too. There's hardly an entry that can't include him because when I start to let my brain spill through my hands he's inevitably a huge part of the day's thoughts. Juno wasn't the only movie to steal a line or two from my life. While we were browsing through PPV, we watched the preview to August Rush. The couple in it said something so Hanna&Hunter that it's hilarious and for some reason it feels good, it makes things feel more real. At least one person had to think that this back and forth meant love, and I've always wondered if it did.

"What are you looking at?"
"You."







ZOMGWTFBBQ@THAT, 5T4Lk3R5?!

The world feels so big big big and I feel good good good, I feel like even though we haven't talked today he might as well have spent hours reassuring me that what we have is real and here to stay. I want to sweep him up in my arms even though that's definitely not physically possible and smile really wide and tell him that everything feels perfect. I feel perfect. I want to cry and laugh and jump around and touch the stars to make them supernova so I can see the pretty blasts of light.

Oh god, that reminds me. Fireworks. Every time I see sparks spread across my entire field of vision it's a total snap pretending that I'm somewhere else, anywhere I'd rather be even if I don't know where the hell that is. That place that I get a notion of now and then but can never hang on to for long.

I WANT TO HUG THINGS