You know that feeling when you take in just so much in a short amount of time, and there are so many thoughts and feelings and go do thats or more of this, pleases? Like, it kind of feels like every thing’s building up to some wonderful cathartic moment, only not quite as purifying and wonderful. Yeah, that.
I mean, I haven’t done much in the last day – I’ve just sat around, doing the usual on the computer, but so much is going on around me and inside my head (the most confusing things of all, I assure you). So, just so I can sort these things out myself, I’ll talk about them in a list:
- My great grandfather is in the hospital. The only great grandparent (not including my step great grandmother, Pat) that still walks this earth. My grandfather’s father. The wonderful old man who I don’t see often, but have fond memories of hugging around the waist and spending days running around in his yard, all while lovingly referring to him as Santa… is in the hospital. I’m sort of in the stage where, in my heart, I know this is huge and terrifying and I don’t want him to die, but in my head I’m thinking, ‘It’s no big deal. I mean, just because he’s bleeding to death in ICU doesn’t mean he’s actually going to die. He’ll pull out of it.’Sitting here at my laptop, writing about (typing out) just how bad this situation is, about how I still haven’t woken up and need to see just how desperate the situation is (or seems), still hasn’t made me snap out of my shock.He’s in his eighties. He’s far out of his prime, and he’s not healthy. He’s blind. He has diabetes. His cholesterol is horrible. And now he’s bleeding internally, buckets of blood everywhere and neither the local hospital nor the VA can figure out why. Why don’t I feel more worried?
Obviously, I care a great deal about him – he’s Santa, for chrissakes. My Santa. But I’m not thinking to myself, ‘Right now, he’s in the hospital bleeding and there’s a good chance he’ll die. I should have more faith that he’ll make it, but – Oh, God, I don’t want him to die. He doesn’t deserve to die.’ Instead, it’s ‘He’s in the hospital. He might die. That’s sad.’ No real emotion behind it, see? And I’m pissing myself off. Why don’t I feel any more strongly? Am I just shocked? Am I afraid I’m going to jynx everything by hoping and wishing and worrying? Damnit.
On top of that, I’m also pissed at myself for being selfish. Rather than actually worrying and wishing for him to get better, hoping that he’s not in pain and that he’s okay and that he isn’t suffering, I’m sitting here, worrying about myself, going about my usual routine with little to no difference. Even now, just by typing my feelings all out, I’m worrying more about getting it all out and relieving my own stress and whether or not I should shorten up this rambling entry, and if I’m making too big a deal about this rather than thinking of him. I need slapped in the face.
- Relax. Breathe. Step away from the previous subject a bit. Think of something else for now. It’s 4:30 in the morning, and you can’t do much now except wait until tomorrow after more testing to see him. Breathe.
- …just realized that the first point I made above is now invalid. Damn it, I’m inwardly freaking out now about everything. I guess talking [typing] about it has really broke my stupor or something, because damn, do I feel panicky now. He can’t die he can’t die hecan’tdie. Please don’t let him be suffering right now. Pleasepleaseplease.
- I do really need to move on, I’m only making myself feel worse.
- Switching subjects in 5, 4, 3, 2…
- I just saw an article about the new Twilight movie, based on the book by Stephenie Meyer, is in production or whatever. Having nothing better to do, I surfed around, site to link to site, until I found myself on Stephenie’s website. Unlike the Twitards out there, I didn’t feel anything concerning all the goody news bits that she releases about the books (like the Outtakes and FAQs and other such things). Good for the Twitards. Gives them something else to be rabid about. (If only Kishi or Hoshino did such things.)I don’t care. I really don’t. Twilight and its sequels are just extremely hyped up books (insert thoughts of being hypocritical here) with the most cliched plotline and characters and everything else imaginable. I mean, a book about a human girl and a vampire boy falling in love, and all of the shenanigans they get into consequently? Booooring. You can find tons of RPs with the very same generic plotline (okay, okay, some might actually, kinda, sorta be Twilight rps). So dull. How in the world did something so unoriginal become so popular?Besides, the fact that everyone always gushes about just how popular it is (Who’s a hypocrite? I am, I am!) is enough to turn me off about it.
But then… I actually read around Stephenie’s site. Her unofficial bio. Her explanation about how Twilight came about. Let me say this once and only once: Stephenie has got to be the coolest author I’ve ever known. Just how down-to-earth and tangible she seems endears me towards her. She’s the friendly, cool, approachable, hip, (An MCR fan? Awesome!) literate sort of person I’d like to be. J.K. Rowling’s wonderful and all, but there was always something about her that made me feel like she was some kind of intangible, holy person in some place far, far away that I’d never be able to reach. It’s not that she seems vain or egotistical or is really impersonal, but I guess I’d always put her on a pedestal for her works long before I’d ever appreciated the concept of celebrities being people, too.
I’m able to do that with Stephenie because I’d stumbled upon her site and got to know her (sort of) before actually being a fan of sorts. I’m able to see her as the-person-who-happens-to-be-famous/be-an-author rather than the-celebrity-who-happens-to-be-a-person. It’s a really refreshing difference.
Above all, though, what I think got me to like her and want to read the book was how attached she was to her characters. Just how real they seemed to her, how much she loved them, how much she fantasized about them as if they were really a part of her family, or like they were standing right before them. Oh, I still think the book’s premise is awfully trite and unoriginal, but the very fact that Stephenie seems to have put so much heart into her characters makes me want to read the book to get the know them, too. No, I won’t be reading it as a typical, unoriginal teen romance involving vampires. I’ll be reading it as a novel with wonderful, they-could-be-real characters, who just so happen to be vampires and playing parts in a dull, unoriginal (How many times have I used those words now?) story.
Yes, that’s much better in my mind.
Long story short: Stephenie’s dedication, devotion, and love for her characters has inspired me to read Twilight and its sequels, no matter how ugh I might have been about the idea before.
- I’m feeling inspired to write. Good thing, ’cause I need to write for my teacher today. She asked for a sample of my writing capabilities, and I’ve already told her that I have five pages of a self reflective story involving metaphysical themes written. Maybe I can get out of it, since Santa’s in his condition. Goddamnit, I’m an awful excuse for a human being.
I’m pretty sure I had more that I intended to say when I began this entry, but I’ve killed my brain a little typing this out and now I can’t remember. Damn.