kimochi breeze...
November 15th, 2011 02:41![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
za_leeI love the smell of nighttime...especially when the seasons change. In these intemperate moments, the air releases impossible mixtures of hot and cold, spring and fall. How...positively...tsundere.
Haha. It's an unfortunate fact that I get no cross-breeze in my apartment. Instead, I open all the windows (on one side) and spend odd hours of the day--thankful, at last, for the unstructured time afforded by (ineffectual) academic life--breathing, waiting for a breeze.
It's like a burst of youth when one washes over me, sending me into a fit of poetic yearning, as if I never learned that life and the labor of it were actually hopelessly ironic. I'm Marcel tumbling into memory, Shizuku tumbling into imagination, I'm tumbling, tumbling, into scenes that are the stuff of fanfic...the fanfic of my life, the situational longing extended from the characters of my selves and the possible settings of my lifescape.
Every cliche captured in scent and sensation: walks through British tree tunnels, sunlight sparkling through leaves; dancing white library curtains, translucent with romantic promise...
I open my eyes and lyricism flitters away like so many attempts at metaphor. And then there's still now. And this.
It's a shame I don't actually go out for a walk. There are better ways of distracting oneself and I've somehow become too crusty to dwell too much on the significance of any given moment. Nowadays (I say this as I'm a veteran and not the newbie I truly am), I watch anime for the characters in their late 20s...with their cool, practiced worldly and pitch perfect-jaded...or self-assured crazy, be what it may...
The regression into childhood minus the guilt, sense of irresponsibility tempered by the realization of powerlessness.
About a year or two ago, when I was marathon-ing Reborn, I was mid-future arc listening to the 10th generation Vongola's justification for summoning their middle school selves to save the future. I don't even remember who was the one relating this logic of youth and the limitless potential of simply not knowing one's bounds, but I do remember pressing my palms to my temples and shouting (not quite zetsubou shitaaaa!, but) "my life is over!!! i'm never gonna be that empowered again!!!"
Now, when that particularly unattractive memory surfaces, I just shrug my shoulders and pick up some Gintama.
Haha. It's an unfortunate fact that I get no cross-breeze in my apartment. Instead, I open all the windows (on one side) and spend odd hours of the day--thankful, at last, for the unstructured time afforded by (ineffectual) academic life--breathing, waiting for a breeze.
It's like a burst of youth when one washes over me, sending me into a fit of poetic yearning, as if I never learned that life and the labor of it were actually hopelessly ironic. I'm Marcel tumbling into memory, Shizuku tumbling into imagination, I'm tumbling, tumbling, into scenes that are the stuff of fanfic...the fanfic of my life, the situational longing extended from the characters of my selves and the possible settings of my lifescape.
Every cliche captured in scent and sensation: walks through British tree tunnels, sunlight sparkling through leaves; dancing white library curtains, translucent with romantic promise...
I open my eyes and lyricism flitters away like so many attempts at metaphor. And then there's still now. And this.
It's a shame I don't actually go out for a walk. There are better ways of distracting oneself and I've somehow become too crusty to dwell too much on the significance of any given moment. Nowadays (I say this as I'm a veteran and not the newbie I truly am), I watch anime for the characters in their late 20s...with their cool, practiced worldly and pitch perfect-jaded...or self-assured crazy, be what it may...
The regression into childhood minus the guilt, sense of irresponsibility tempered by the realization of powerlessness.
About a year or two ago, when I was marathon-ing Reborn, I was mid-future arc listening to the 10th generation Vongola's justification for summoning their middle school selves to save the future. I don't even remember who was the one relating this logic of youth and the limitless potential of simply not knowing one's bounds, but I do remember pressing my palms to my temples and shouting (not quite zetsubou shitaaaa!, but) "my life is over!!! i'm never gonna be that empowered again!!!"
Now, when that particularly unattractive memory surfaces, I just shrug my shoulders and pick up some Gintama.
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no subject
Date: 2011-11-15 13:33 (UTC)Oh, oh, I love anime/manga with adult characters, too. Tiger & Bunny is good. Saiyuki has characters ranging from early 20s to 500-plus. I count Hetalia because, what, nations?
Do you have any recommendations?
no subject
Date: 2011-11-17 04:54 (UTC)Yeah, I totally count the 100+ year old character thing in the mix, too! This makes room for Bleach, which aside from the hacking and stabbing ad nauseum, I find fun, to my own surprise. And I've mentioned Gintama, which is a true story. Fruits Basket has some of my fav 28 year olds line-up. Shigure and Ayame rock my socks. lol. You might need to be able to withstand saccharine sweet if you want to venture into the anime, though I enjoy both anime and manga.
I'm also experiencing CLAMP after the fact...with all its age/gender ambiguous goodness.
Other than that, I've been actually pushing into the total ojisan bracket with my manga lately. Maybe if you're a Tiger & Bunny fan, you can understand. Yoshinaga Fumi...why you write lawyer so well?
Haha. You know I'm raring to watch Saiyuki so I can finally read your fic. But there's this little issue of feeling compelled to finish Journey to the West before that happens and well, 2000 page novels...
no subject
Date: 2011-11-17 14:36 (UTC)Good luck!