i was dreaming when i wrote this so forgive me if i go astray..

"...I mean...me, for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don't know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was, uh, racked with insecurity, you know? Now I'm older, my problems are deeper, but I'm more equipped to handle them."

Jesse, B.S






Céline: (Follows him to the side of the boat.) You know, maybe we're...we're only good at brief encounters, walking around in European cities, in warm climate!

Jesse: Oh, God, why didn't we exchange phone numbers and stuff? Why didn't we do that?

Céline: (Puts a finger to her mouth in a sarcastic gesture.) Because we were young and stupid?

Jesse: You think we still are?

Céline: I guess when you're young...you just believe there'll be many people with whom you'll connect with. Later in life you realize it only happens a few times.

Jesse: Yeah, you can screw it up! You know, misconnect...

Céline: (Circles from his left to his right.) Well, the past is the past. It was meant to be that way.







Umberto Eco famously wrote in Reflections on The Name of the Rose:

I think of the postmodern attitude as that of a man who loves a
very cultivated woman and knows he can’t say to her “I love you
madly” because he knows – and he knows that she knows – that
these words have already been written by Barbara Cartland. Still,
there is a solution: he can say, “As Barbara Cartland would put it,
I love you madly”. At this point, having avoided false innocence,
he will nonetheless have said what he wanted to the woman: that
he loves her... If the woman goes along with this, she will have
received a declaration of love all the same. Neither of the two
speakers will be innocent… both will consciously, and with
pleasure, play the game of irony, but both will have succeeded
once again in talking of love.




Frank Kermode’s, A Sense of an Ending, explores mankind’s “deep need for intelligible ends” (Kermode, 1967, 32), arguing that we absolutely need the fictive concepts of beginnings and endings to make sense of the essential contingency of our lives. He pursues this theory down to what is perhaps man’s most fundamental fiction – time:

Let us take, as a very simple example, the ticking of a clock. We ask what it says: and we agree that it says tick-tock. By this fiction we humanise it...Of course, it is we who provide the fictional difference between the two sounds; tick is our sound for a physical beginning, tock our word for an end.....the clock's tick-tock I take to be a model of what we call a plot, an organisation that humanises time by giving it form.

loves surprises..

hates to be kept waiting, standing in line..

believes that what goes around, comes around

gladly opens doors for women, or anyone for that matter..

can never open those little round packets of juice on airplanes..without spilling some!

will make faces at little kids..especially if THEY started it!! ;p

needs 7-8 hours sleep nowadays to feel remotely human

chooses the latter when faced between a restaurant with white linen on the table & 2 forks & 3 spoons surrounding a large white plate, or a cafe with a 2nd hand couch to sit on, a wooden packing crate as the table AND a cat sleeping in the windowsill nearby..

doesn't find the 3 stooges funny

wonders sometimes what 'change' he's making in this world of ours

is inspired by the departure board clicking over at airports and railway stations (ALL those exotic destinations!)

knows that sometimes it doesn't make a difference if he chooses chicken or fish

would just once like to be THAT couple left standing in the middle of the dance floor kissing as the lights come up at 4 a.m

realises he's just been referring to himself in the third person...