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remember kisses? so... ~ taste salt laced with bitter and a sharp gasp of surprise, breathe him in, fresh breeze, old anger and new frustration; just this light touch crashing still among the waves rolling and winds tangling your hair hoary just this once... taste warmth and will, part ocean spray, part living blood, part steel - parting and yielding and fusing together, stealing your breath when you but think to let go. taste storm clouds, smoke and lightning, flesh and bone, anything but gentle... ...look into his storm-coloured eyes and see the ice break and melt. drink deeply. ~ oh, wild is the wind... #-) Tags: 20k, ff, mine
mood:  embarrassed
sound: David Bowie - Wild Is The Wind
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[1] good heavens, I grew up in interesting times. for of such meagre, ridiculously poor resources we could - and did - produce such great things... within our heads. just how much really relied on imagination back then! no wonder that when supercool special effects had finally got to us, fantasy had but to leap up and fly. soar. aw... [2] still, wonder what exactly the filmmakers smoked/drank at work, for their treatment of canon sourse material is... comprehensible only with heavy drugs in mind. bloody hell. DVD makers also. [3] eeeep... it's 1975. older than yours truly. omfg. [4] women. why there always have to be women, for God's sake?! for this 'forced female insertion' practically never works, dammit. however, here... here they are many yet not quite real. not quite solid, ephemeral, ethereal dreamy creatures, even - or especially - when they get up close & personal. for the men under attack in question always manage to look as though they are indeed waiting and willing, but for someone else entirely. *facepalm* remind you, it's the USSR of 1975, when we had yet to discover sex. am dead beyond resurrection #-) ETA: "Yes, for her and all the others you are dead." But in fact you are alive, here with me. subtext? screw *sub*text! ETA2: a man coming back to his cabin in the dead of the night, stealing in like a thief, barely touching the floor, obviously light-headed and strangely content... wth. and later on, passing by another door, deliberately turning away and imperceptibly rolling eyes..?! oh you, men..! ETA3: CRAAAACK. the fight that never happened: the knife is out, and the battle of wills begins. eyes wide, wider still, pinpoints of light going nova in them; then eyes lowered, as though wearily, eyelashes *sweeping*, going down, and back up, now really world-weary and grim, and exits he, carelessly turning his back, and his adversary picks the knife up from the floor... *ahhhhhhh* daaammit. ~ capping like mad..... Tags: 20k
mood:  high
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I forgot. I forgot how crazy this film - how old and crazy it is, and how wonderful, with woodcuts and play pretend and stuff... this far? *gunkink*!!! everything is better without the girl, even newly weds seem to agree... ...and "The Emperor needs you." me dead. *ded*. Brotherhood of the Wolf flashback: they did sing of monsters in Paris! *ded* ...blue - sea and midnight blue - eyes, and hair tinted grey in certain lights... slash makes itself oh my poor brain "...each and every incomprehensible phenomenon must be comprehended first, studied..." and placed in custody! *dead still* omfg, no... ~ he holds her gently, like a priceless fragile specimen off his wall, all ivory sunlight air, a creature too alien and strange, incomprehensible yet open to study - careful, careful, ethereal kisses whisper in her ear - a perfect shell with its pearl, her life quivering on his lips and fingertips, and she is saying she loves him, oh, she loves him so!.. but they touch each other too gently, as though afraid to break - hurt - scare this fragile incomprehensible happiness away; they avert eyes and faces; and when his heart finally overflows, it's with sea water. ~ gods damn, dear Russians, wtf?! Tags: 20k, ff, mine
mood:  crazy
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it appears I do not have a scanner any more. because the one I've got is not compatible with Windows XP. I also cannot locate quite a few installatoin disks, which are bound to be somewhere in the apartment... yet they aren't. bugger & blast #-( however, this smartass OS does read my photocard automatically, so. once I figure out how to turn the flash off, there will be golden brown '-) meanwhile, there is grey. shades of grey. *teh* illustration that made me go, "What the hell..?" Verne, 20K, Russian, circa 1952... ( stare with me? )~ yes, it does remind me of one DWCon04 photo, anathomically. shoot. me.Tags: 20k, pix
mood:  cranky
sound: Oliver Shanti & Friends - Cutting Through - Sijano Vodjani
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consider love. unreal, if only because most real people next to you don't ever *really* care... well, confound them. consider love. selfless and shy, innocent, pure, and guilty of all things imaginable at the same time. not blazing heat of passion, and not steady warmth of understanding, but a weird flame burning just within safety bounds... the barely known want to hold close - to let go, to touch - to intimately know - to have never met, for gods' sake. to run terrified, and to stay forever in an imperfect moment of together. though by all means I ought to know better by now, I still wept. it's just this... way of beautiful things of a certain kind, in their finiteness to pass by, tearing a piece of your soul & taking it with them who knows where. Tags: 20k
mood:  crushed
sound: leonard cohen - a thousand kisses deep
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have been sick. then have laughed myself sick. a definite improvement here! have also been confusing co-workers to the point of their asking why the hell I didn't study languages or literature inoffensive at the Uni... ha! h-he... um. the coughing is back, but the laugh was worth it... ~ one Jason Flemyng is subtly insinuating himself into my L. From Hell, LXG, The Body, The Red Violin... um, hello '-) you surprise me, and that I like, and I like you... ~ walking to a bus station, on my way home, in the dark & pissed off, what I had thought of, suddenly? mirrors... and waters... layers, sheets of glass and liquid - liquid glass - reflection & refraction, time crystallized... or just raindrops/spray on one's window. think reflections... men of same... proportions, if I may say that, - and same rank. dark eyes, dark hair, pale - in a certain light - skin, scull of an angel, fine hands just barely touching that liquid glass... it's a moment, a flash picture, and I cannot paint it, and there seem *not* to be a 1000 words for it [men quiet], yet it is here. also: men quiet, but there is music about them. soul music, body language... assonance #-) ~ there Tags: 20k
mood: disturbed?
sound: Muse - Muscle Museum
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I am spending money on the net & spamming my flist. how we missed that... the thing is, what I've just spent the money on will be delivered, if I know anything about them Russians, in the beginning of March. somewhere around the 8th of March. the irony. last year it was OUaTiM, IIRC... some get flowers, some get chocolate, and I get crack in the shape of slim dark men with peculiar ways of thinking. fancy #-) oh, wth. I'm hungry. figures. hungry for your touch, and thirsty for your waters: oceans in your blood, and spears of your mind. times will never match, and names will never matter: open, flow & flood the tides of heart that bind us. Tags: 20k, mine, poetry
mood: lyrical
sound: Sarah Brightman - Captain Nemo
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I am drowning. in the morning, there are mighty towers of smoke & gold in the sky, and dragons radiant soaring in the heavenly blue, light fantastic but soft enough to be admired with a naked eye... ...and late in the evening there are damn brilliant stars, and things have definitely turned to the better, for I see the sky again. but still, I'm drowning. this... fixation? [not the first, never the last, but the most weird this far?] what can one do when a perfect combination of word, picture and sound is up against them? not much? the conspiracy of '-) it's ice and fire in soooo much water [dif. senses]. and the trip could well encompass cool reason, solid [scientific] facts, elements' magic, numerology & nameology [snerk], and so forth... a grand tour... [ah, and some acid, too... wonder whether sarcasm & irony would interact like acid & iron, at times] have mentioned the subject what, 3 times in a conversation? and have been considered strange, to put it mildly. now imagine the thing floating in your mind for days whole... note to self: as words and sounds alone can undo you, take care in mixing the two. [this song? mingling with the ending of the book? is wicked. It's come to this indeed!..] ...ahem. and the worst thing? it being the ending. the end. full stop. the place where the words give up, and only thought remains, free, but... but one longs for a shape more substantial than that. i.e., everything there was to read about has been read, the woe #-) ~ and good night... Tags: 20k
mood:  melancholy
sound: Muse - Time is Running Out
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aaargh. our accursed firm is being subjected to audit, visits from clients, and such, and that is OK by me... would've been, if I were not told *minutes* before the events which required, to some degree, my participation. so, much undue stress & running between three floors, and even more bitching & squabbling among the workers... honestly, i do not need that, fuck you very much. and, aha, tomorrow morning we're having another one, and my boss was ever so kind as to warn me *tonight*, when I was about to leave. WTF, and BBQ, if I lay my hands on a flamethrower... argh. ~ ...so I read. I read, finding endless classifications surprisingly calming, reflecting upon the turns of history that take a thing from something strange & novel to a children's game [what were we, 10?] in about a century... [come to think of it, we had had some strange childhoods] so I ramble '-) admitting he who said that sorrows come from much knowledge was quite right... and finding it suddenly thrilling in ways I was happily innocent of, aged 10, and terribly, quietly sad... this *longing* to possess & keep two things eliminating each other. this unknown want to. this unbearable burden of choice, once you clearly see how it can be made... goodness mine. also, in such simple words. in its own way, perfect '-) Tags: 20k
mood:  stressed
sound: Ace of Base - Captain Nemo
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there are... things. probably crap or waste on the whole, probably, with a couple of gems stuck in them, but not nearly good... but they have this nasty habit of getting personal. like, there is some [little] thing about them. choice of music, perfect sync, seamless motion or a character, play on words, choice of colours, for crying out loud... something small that does not change the big picture, but sticks. you may fall in love with one single moment, but fall you do. eh... so it becomes personal in the sense of that small something only you, with your personal quirks, might find remarkable and precious, and would want to keep... somewhere close #-) ~ and then there would be men, giving their swords and their ships names, which turns an 'it' into a 'her', and then calling their fair [silver & ivory] lady 'the sword of the ocean'... ...and I'd be drowning. ~ and then the melody from this song here would seamlessly flow into the Oceans of Time theme from Dracula... out cold. dead '-) ~ so, high. despite one big gaping plot hole with rags of a dozen of stories flapping in the breeze... despite a very, verrrry large dose of OMGWTF laced with BBQ. it's, it's like... PTerry's opera, in a way. a journey one must NOT embark on with a couple of tickets to the darker corners of L-Space in their pokets. ~ might have to borrow/rent/download some good old hopefully innocent books for future-in-the-past reference #-) [ETA: *not* innocent any more, neither in Russian nor in English. honestly, firewater and musical ecstasy..!] ~ and for the dessert, ( that very song. )Tags: 20k, cohen, lxg
mood: cranky
sound: Leonard Cohen - Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye
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