Epiphany

You may have gathered from my previous entry that I've been watching a lot of movies lately. Let me be more specific. I've been watching a lot of movies about lonely people. Who live by themselves or with their pets or their parents. Who are socially awkward or just strange. Who are often played by Sandra Bullock or Katherine Heigl.

At the end of the movies, they have found a man who's seemingly perfect for them, gotten over the social awkwardness, made new true friends and live happily ever after with hope of a bright future.

This is not what I'm looking for. I'm looking for a movie in which the lonely, weird protagonist comes to terms with her oddness, smiles sarcastically at the world and says, "Fuck you," and lives happily ever after with her cats.

The closest a movie has come to meeting my expectations is All About Steve, in which (spoiler alert!) Sandra Bullock rejects the delicious Bradley Cooper, becomes famous for being a hero (by accident, out of idiocy) and goes home with the friends she made while stalking Bradley Cooper. Unsatisfying.

If anyone knows a movie that could be what I'm looking for, please let me know. Not that I need it any more.

I'd been lying around waiting for an epiphany to shove me out of stagnancy. You know what happens when you lie around waiting for an epiphany?

Nothing. No damn thing.

You need inspiration in order to have an epiphany. It was while I was filing my nails into ovals and painting them dark blue and hot pink alternately that I realised that a lot of my darkness has no cause. You see, other people haven't fucked me up in those ways. I've always been fucked up. I've always been weird. I've always been a freak.

But don't start feeling sad or sorry for me, because this is great. Now I know that the darkness is not a disease, but a gift.

I own it.

I control it.

And I'm going to fully use it to my advantage.

The rich, thick, delicious darkness, the pure, clear, blinding brightness, and all the shades in between are all mine.

All mine.