Reading...

Other people's writing, since I can't write. He is talking about the movie Sideways (which I have yet to see, BTW). From the effect it has on him, I can see that I should maybe hold off seeing it until I am feeling very VERY emotionally stable.

He is relating to his familiarity to the place that the character Miles finds himself in when, after sitting at a crossroads, he turns and drives himself away from a screw up.

I so relate.

That is me. That is I. That is the author of this blog. Sitting at the crossroads forever.

I feel that pain. Pain of fucking things up, of... not being the right person. Not being the person you wanted to be, or thought that you could one day become. Whom you thought you had the potential to be as a kid, smart and witty and always saying the right thing, reading the signs properly, making the right moves, fluid as a cat, graceful as a gazelle, sleek, hungry and accurate like a leopard. Sure-footed, that's the term. A natural. Before the bastards wore you down, before you lost your sense of humour, your sense of perspective, became hunched and angry. Knowing that you probably will never be that person. Not being a writer, for example. Drinking and dialing. Running away. Not saying the right things. Not saying anything. Saying the wrong things. Aceepting the failure and being resigned to having to live with it, because what else is there?

Talk about being able to relate. E@L, you said that brilliantly. My hat's off to you, sir. Oh, and I still lurk, too, just been too. damn. busy.