Love And Lost

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Re-watching Lost is like catching up with old friends. I tend to have friends that are part of my life one moment and then the next they’re like dust in the wind perhaps we’re all the same connected to other people one moment and then disconnected the next. It’s life we move ever forward and the past becomes a nostalgic blur. The thing about catching up with old friends is they’re lost to you, it’s not the same, whatever kind of connection you had to them and them to you is gone. Lost, forever. They might have been your best friends, they might have been more than friends and meant the world to you, but that’s all gone now, lost, and now they’re just good memories of times past.

Re-watching a once loved TV series is better than reconnecting with old friends because a TV series remains the same but old friends can at times be almost unrecognisable. It’s the same with someone you once loved, love is weird anyways all that time effort emoting and heartache eventually wasted on somebody who never deserved, or asked for, your love anyway. I prefer unrequited love, just falling head over heels in love with someone out of your league, never telling them, just loving them from a distance it’s a pure kind of love because it only means something to you, it’s your love for them and unrequited love works because it doesn’t need reciprocation it isn’t about possession and doesn’t eventually lead to anger or hate it’s a nice kind of love the fantasy kind most people can only dream of and as long as no one knows how much you love the person you can never have that love taken advantage of or for granted.

It’s the kind of love that can last until the day you die. It’s movie love, it’s the kind of love that only exists in stories and because I like to believe we’re all a story I like the grand drama of unrequited love, it’s like being Leonard in The Big Bang Theory before Penny had love for him, or any story were the boy doesn’t get the girl because she’s cool and way out of his league and though he’s the main character in this story it doesn’t matter because he’s a geek and she’s shagging the cool bully jock dude, I enjoy all those loser stories because I can relate to them feel what the character is feeling and have a wish to hit the geeky dude in his chops for emoting so damn much.

In future posts I’ll be discussing my favourite moments from the TV series Lost and trying to make attempt to explain why they’re my favourite moments but for now I’m just going to randomly drone on about a few things I have tumbling around my noggin.

I like the past, I like observing it through rose tinted glasses, The Now quickly becomes the past, I confess I’m not paying attention, never here in the moment, and The Future well that’s either predetermined or an unknowable mystery full of serious complexity and befuddling confusion. The past is like an old friend and The Future is like a dimly lit path I can see where it’s going but I don’t know where it leads or what dangers lurk within the cold cruel dark.

A weird thing about old friends is some of them are dead and how weird is that? You thought you were all going to be young and live forever and then one of your friends dies, or you find out an old friend is dead, and you’ll never see them again. That’s harsh, just harsh, makes me wonder why people are the way they are we know we’re not going to be here for very long so why don’t we make the best of good and bad situations?

Death is also weird but is something that really exists unlike love which is something we’ve made up but convinced ourselves is real with purpose and meaning but unlike love death isn’t something we like to talk or think about it’s a forbidden subject like masturbation, pooing and dreaming about murder or suicide. I suppose some things HAVE to be taboo, deeply personal but, and why not, I’m going to break that taboo and have a brief talk about having dreams of murder and suicide.

Every night I dream about being murdered and about murdering others, usually I’m off having an adventure and I possess awesome Kung-Fu fighting skills, I’m like Asian Hawk, but I end up killed by Nazi’s. In my waking hours making my way to work or home from work and just generally wandering about randomly I often believe Chav nob heads are going to beat me to death or hit me hard with a car my poor flabby body broken and burst. Daydreams of murder usually involve me looking out a window inside my flat making a hand into a gun and pretend shooting people as they go shopping or hurrying off to some unknown, by myself, destination, because no one ever looks up no one ever sees me pretend shooting them to death usually in the back of their heads with imaginary bullets from an imaginary gun, that’s my favourite kind of murder, of violence, imaginary. I don’t know anyone I want to kill, or see dead, I’m more a horrible imaginary mass murderer rather than someone with premeditation in mind. I sometimes imagine I’m losing my shit when I’m having a shit, I do enjoy a good poo.

Thoughts of suicide don’t happen often, but they have in the past, when I found myself working in factories I often thought about building some kind of device that could behead me in a public arena because I figure if I’m going to kill myself I might as well do so in public, or by taking members of the general public with me.

I figure if I was lost on a mysterious island, or DC’s Dinosaur Island, with a group of strangers, or even people I know, I’d probably end up killed by them, possibly eaten, my sweet meat juicy and tasty after all I don’t eat at McDonalds or any fast food palaces, I don’t drink or smoke and I’m always healthy I probably taste delicious, so delicious I’d eat myself. If I could.

Well, and hmm, enough of this if I don’t end this rambling post now then I never will.

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