Saturday, September 09, 2006
I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if I want you or not. I don’t know if I love you, or if I’m just grateful to you for being the first to try and end my solitude. I don’t know if I feel happy because you’re my friend or something more. I don’t even know if I can be attracted to women.
Got that off a fic, and I KNOW, konks, I really shouldn't be putting it here anymore, but it just seems more in-character to put it here than there, if you know what I mean. Just go re-read that other blog, and you see a slightly different side of me there. It just wouldn't be right there, somehow.
And that above interlude is exactly what I love so much about the whole Shizuru and Natsuki relationship, this time from our dear Kuga-san's point of view. It just seems deeply appropriate, on all counts, and at all levels.
And to address the whole "no more shoujo ai slant" resolution I made before, well, I even told konks that it was ultimately impossible for me NOT to talk about shoujo ai, inadvertently or not, especially since this blog is about me and my often wayward thoughts, and my often wayward thoughts tend to stray down that alley, hence, this.
The only thing I can spare her is the extended rants on the merits (or demerits) or shoujo ai pairings and likewise related material. Which is the purpose of the new blog. However, if I want to rant about myself, and if it somehow contains shoujo ai material (well I reference events in my life to my current obsessions, which currently happens to be shoujo ai, so there), then it's just too bad.
And right now I just had a interestingly disturbing thought about a song from the Seramyu, can't remember the title, but it was by the Three Lights. Otherwise known as the Starlights. Also known as transgendering-aliens-who-look-like-they-just-stepped-off-a-porn-movie-set.
Don't ask. Just...don't.
Still, Shizuru reminds me of myself sometimes. I'm not even halfway as perfect, or as composed. Or as capable. Or as psychotic. Or as obsessed (thank god). Just something about the girl that touches me deeply. Maybe it's those red eyes, that look like blood. Kind, red eyes; crimson, obsessive, dangerous. Beautiful eyes.
Just, I understand.
>> Do you really hate me that much?
I even remember it in its original japanese form. Remember the pain. The desolation. And ultimately, that wilful self-delusion, the blindness. And there comes the acceptance...that godforsaken acceptance that it could never be.
Shizuru is Shizuru because she is perfectly flawed. No, that's not an oxymoron, you moron. :P Tunnel vision at its best, because she can only see one person. And because of that singular focus, she cannot see other things. Will do anything for her most precious person, yet not really seeing her, because Shizuru believes that it could never be, and thus does not comprehend that it could ever be, even if she daydreams about the possibility.
As you can probably tell by now, I'm very much a Shizuru fangirl. Her perfection, and her flaws, both draw me to her. I love her because she is perfect, but also because she is flawed. Because I can see into her psyche, watch the scenes unfold through her eyes, and feel that freezing undercurrent running a chill up my spine as I understood.
I love her because I would have been her in a different lifetime, a different lifestyle. Seeing that clear bright line from A to B, never hesitating to crush, literally, any and all opposition to reach her goal...and yet, when it came down to her and her MIP, she cannot make that final step, the perceived taint of her many sins holding her back, unable to reach out.
She is after all, afraid. Afraid of letting Natsuki see that tainted, sullied side of her, the blood on her hands. She has played too long that image of perfection to Natsuki, she does not know how Natsuki will react to seeing her true self.
So she hides. Until she breaks down. To her very limit.
And then she smiles. Even as her world crumbles around her, she smiles.
Because that is all she knows how to do.
...
I must apologise to you konks. I said no more mechanics of shoujo ai relationships, but here I am again. -___- But then again, this is more a discourse on character analysis, on a character who just happens to be openly and canonically lesbian.
Why am I making excuses? And I refuse to apologise. Because like Chengwei says, even apologising can be a selfish gesture, because we want to feel forgiven. It becomes an act of self gratification, so to speak.
Which completely detracts from the original meaning, naturally.
What wrong did I do here anyway? None that I can see as of now. SO why does that word "sorry" just slip out like a second breath, like a natural process?
Probably because one is too used to apologising, to trying to soothe over the situation with a simple, pithy word that would hopefully smooth over the tensions. It was much easier to take the blame, apologise, and move on; then to argue and chew over old soup as the fight degenerates into senseless scuffling.
I don't say sorry to make myself feel better. I say it to close the situation. To put a period at the end of the sentence. To just quit the haggling over just WHO was at blame for such-and-such problem. And anyway, most of the time it IS my fault, so apologising probably sounds like the right thing to do.
Callous? Wouldn't put it past me. In short, "sorry" is simply convenient. It ceased to hold much meaning a long time ago. Now it is merely a polite formality. Something that is expected, something that doesn't cost much more than the breath taken to say it. That's how I see it.
Still, the word "sorry" reminds me of forgiveness. Or at least, the request FOR forgiveness. That I take the whole tradition of apology as mere lipservice probably says a lot about my character, or about how I view the concept of forgiveness as a whole.
And then again, it reminds me of a conversation I had with Grace, who says that I'm painting myself to be a worse person than I really am. And she is right, as she usually is when it comes to me. Am I that transparent? Possibly.
Because, like Natsuki, I wear my heart on my sleeve, while simultaneously exuding an icy, forbidding aura while glowering in a way that would make Duran proud. Damnations. I really am an oversized puppy after all. Just like Natsuki herself is. No matter how much she denies the fact and tries to deathglare all witnesses into submission.
Beautiful flowers are meant to be loved, for they are doing their best to bloom in their short lives.
x__x Thank you for that insight Shizuru.
Supposedly, I take on the mantle of bad girl, black sheep, sometimes-delinquent (now doesn't sound familiar? Like one Yuuki Nao, perchance?). It is, after all, easier to play to such expectations than to disappoint others (and mostly, myself) should I choose to be that shining star in the sky.
高处不胜寒。
Damn right it is.
Still, Nao reminds me partially of myself. Actually, I am most like Nao, minus the bitter cynicism...(oh really?) Ok ok fine, with cynicism, just different in execution. Her issues with her mother is like mine, of course. Her anguished cries of "Mama!" after Shizuru demolished her Child Julia struck a nerve. That...was I'd have done. Then again, I will probably always have issues about my mom. She's far too important in my conception of the past to ignore.
Then again, I was speaking of taint. I play up the disturbed, highly intelligent, lost little girl side of myself. I'm not lying about that part of myself, per se. Exaggeration of an existing condition is not quite an all-out lie...eh right. Still. You get what I mean.
You know something is really wrong when you start identifying with admittedly crazy people. Which I am apparently doing.
After all, I have thought like Shizuru (while in psycho mode, no less), I have compared myself to Akio and Reito (the former of which is a fucktard, and the latter while in Obsidian Lord mode). I feel closely related to people like Kozue and Nao, and I angst like Juri (see: the locket).
Meh. I'm not really all that unusual (oh really?). Perhaps.
When it comes down to it, I am ultimately a nice girl (so everybody tells me). I'm just a terrible coward, is all.
And we all go yay-fucking-doo to the tune of Three Blind Mice, while tapping our feet in a vulgar imitation of the Nutcracker, without the elegance.
Isn't life grand that way?
]
Got that off a fic, and I KNOW, konks, I really shouldn't be putting it here anymore, but it just seems more in-character to put it here than there, if you know what I mean. Just go re-read that other blog, and you see a slightly different side of me there. It just wouldn't be right there, somehow.
And that above interlude is exactly what I love so much about the whole Shizuru and Natsuki relationship, this time from our dear Kuga-san's point of view. It just seems deeply appropriate, on all counts, and at all levels.
And to address the whole "no more shoujo ai slant" resolution I made before, well, I even told konks that it was ultimately impossible for me NOT to talk about shoujo ai, inadvertently or not, especially since this blog is about me and my often wayward thoughts, and my often wayward thoughts tend to stray down that alley, hence, this.
The only thing I can spare her is the extended rants on the merits (or demerits) or shoujo ai pairings and likewise related material. Which is the purpose of the new blog. However, if I want to rant about myself, and if it somehow contains shoujo ai material (well I reference events in my life to my current obsessions, which currently happens to be shoujo ai, so there), then it's just too bad.
And right now I just had a interestingly disturbing thought about a song from the Seramyu, can't remember the title, but it was by the Three Lights. Otherwise known as the Starlights. Also known as transgendering-aliens-who-look-like-they-just-stepped-off-a-porn-movie-set.
Don't ask. Just...don't.
Still, Shizuru reminds me of myself sometimes. I'm not even halfway as perfect, or as composed. Or as capable. Or as psychotic. Or as obsessed (thank god). Just something about the girl that touches me deeply. Maybe it's those red eyes, that look like blood. Kind, red eyes; crimson, obsessive, dangerous. Beautiful eyes.
Just, I understand.
>> Do you really hate me that much?
I even remember it in its original japanese form. Remember the pain. The desolation. And ultimately, that wilful self-delusion, the blindness. And there comes the acceptance...that godforsaken acceptance that it could never be.
Shizuru is Shizuru because she is perfectly flawed. No, that's not an oxymoron, you moron. :P Tunnel vision at its best, because she can only see one person. And because of that singular focus, she cannot see other things. Will do anything for her most precious person, yet not really seeing her, because Shizuru believes that it could never be, and thus does not comprehend that it could ever be, even if she daydreams about the possibility.
As you can probably tell by now, I'm very much a Shizuru fangirl. Her perfection, and her flaws, both draw me to her. I love her because she is perfect, but also because she is flawed. Because I can see into her psyche, watch the scenes unfold through her eyes, and feel that freezing undercurrent running a chill up my spine as I understood.
I love her because I would have been her in a different lifetime, a different lifestyle. Seeing that clear bright line from A to B, never hesitating to crush, literally, any and all opposition to reach her goal...and yet, when it came down to her and her MIP, she cannot make that final step, the perceived taint of her many sins holding her back, unable to reach out.
She is after all, afraid. Afraid of letting Natsuki see that tainted, sullied side of her, the blood on her hands. She has played too long that image of perfection to Natsuki, she does not know how Natsuki will react to seeing her true self.
So she hides. Until she breaks down. To her very limit.
And then she smiles. Even as her world crumbles around her, she smiles.
Because that is all she knows how to do.
...
I must apologise to you konks. I said no more mechanics of shoujo ai relationships, but here I am again. -___- But then again, this is more a discourse on character analysis, on a character who just happens to be openly and canonically lesbian.
Why am I making excuses? And I refuse to apologise. Because like Chengwei says, even apologising can be a selfish gesture, because we want to feel forgiven. It becomes an act of self gratification, so to speak.
Which completely detracts from the original meaning, naturally.
What wrong did I do here anyway? None that I can see as of now. SO why does that word "sorry" just slip out like a second breath, like a natural process?
Probably because one is too used to apologising, to trying to soothe over the situation with a simple, pithy word that would hopefully smooth over the tensions. It was much easier to take the blame, apologise, and move on; then to argue and chew over old soup as the fight degenerates into senseless scuffling.
I don't say sorry to make myself feel better. I say it to close the situation. To put a period at the end of the sentence. To just quit the haggling over just WHO was at blame for such-and-such problem. And anyway, most of the time it IS my fault, so apologising probably sounds like the right thing to do.
Callous? Wouldn't put it past me. In short, "sorry" is simply convenient. It ceased to hold much meaning a long time ago. Now it is merely a polite formality. Something that is expected, something that doesn't cost much more than the breath taken to say it. That's how I see it.
Still, the word "sorry" reminds me of forgiveness. Or at least, the request FOR forgiveness. That I take the whole tradition of apology as mere lipservice probably says a lot about my character, or about how I view the concept of forgiveness as a whole.
And then again, it reminds me of a conversation I had with Grace, who says that I'm painting myself to be a worse person than I really am. And she is right, as she usually is when it comes to me. Am I that transparent? Possibly.
Because, like Natsuki, I wear my heart on my sleeve, while simultaneously exuding an icy, forbidding aura while glowering in a way that would make Duran proud. Damnations. I really am an oversized puppy after all. Just like Natsuki herself is. No matter how much she denies the fact and tries to deathglare all witnesses into submission.
Beautiful flowers are meant to be loved, for they are doing their best to bloom in their short lives.
x__x Thank you for that insight Shizuru.
Supposedly, I take on the mantle of bad girl, black sheep, sometimes-delinquent (now doesn't sound familiar? Like one Yuuki Nao, perchance?). It is, after all, easier to play to such expectations than to disappoint others (and mostly, myself) should I choose to be that shining star in the sky.
高处不胜寒。
Damn right it is.
Still, Nao reminds me partially of myself. Actually, I am most like Nao, minus the bitter cynicism...(oh really?) Ok ok fine, with cynicism, just different in execution. Her issues with her mother is like mine, of course. Her anguished cries of "Mama!" after Shizuru demolished her Child Julia struck a nerve. That...was I'd have done. Then again, I will probably always have issues about my mom. She's far too important in my conception of the past to ignore.
Then again, I was speaking of taint. I play up the disturbed, highly intelligent, lost little girl side of myself. I'm not lying about that part of myself, per se. Exaggeration of an existing condition is not quite an all-out lie...eh right. Still. You get what I mean.
You know something is really wrong when you start identifying with admittedly crazy people. Which I am apparently doing.
After all, I have thought like Shizuru (while in psycho mode, no less), I have compared myself to Akio and Reito (the former of which is a fucktard, and the latter while in Obsidian Lord mode). I feel closely related to people like Kozue and Nao, and I angst like Juri (see: the locket).
Meh. I'm not really all that unusual (oh really?). Perhaps.
When it comes down to it, I am ultimately a nice girl (so everybody tells me). I'm just a terrible coward, is all.
And we all go yay-fucking-doo to the tune of Three Blind Mice, while tapping our feet in a vulgar imitation of the Nutcracker, without the elegance.
Isn't life grand that way?
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