Teen Wolf

I started a new show a couple of weeks ago, and I know I shouldn't have, because I have less than no time for new shows, or I should have less than no time, because my time should be filled up with productive things.

Yeah, right. Like I'm going to be busy improving myself over the summer. Psht. What an idea.

Anywho, I watched the first season and a half of Teen Wolf, which is all that has been released so far.

It is terrible.
Legitimately terrible. Not worth watching terrible.

Badly written (no one knows what is going on, not characters or viewers and especially not the writers).
Hilariously acted (stilted and stiff and like they're about to trip over their own tongues most of the time).
Confusingly executed (even if the actors knew what they were doing the tone flops all over the place).

And I loved every minute of it. Even the moments where I was wincing in lack-of-quality pain.

A couple of characters redeem the entire show in my eyes; one carries it through the whole first season, to be honest. My second viewing of the show has cleared up some confusing bits, though I am still not sure what the hot guy's motivation has been or will ever be. (He goes from "If I have to kill you, I will" to "Run!" *sacrifices himself for the guy* in literally five seconds.)

I am enjoying it more than it merits enjoying, is all I am saying.

No reason at all

It stings.
Sharp, tangy, bitter water laced with chlorine is filling up his ears and his mouth; now his nose and his eyes. He can't feel his legs or his arms, can't move them, can't keep his head up, but his eyes and nose still sting. He can move his mouth, can still scream, but what's the use? His ears pick up the nothing that means he is alone.

Nearly alone.

He looks up. All he can see through the murk of the water in the dim light fractured on the walls from the lights below is a single figure, and he knows who that is. The lone figure on the edge of the pool is not here for him. He isn't going to help him. Why would he? He'll grab his phone, get his friends, save them. He will leave, and the one in the water will be finished.

The water is cool on his face, over his face, above his face. It's dark, quiet, still.

Until it's not.

There's a crash, a movement, a splashing sound, and he feels arms around his neck tugging him up, yanking him from the stillness into the noisy air. The man from the ledge supports his weight, treads water, lets him breathe.

He had no reason to help the one in the water.
But he did.

He picked Derek

Lives on the line, and he has a choice.

Friend on the phone
or
Fallen foe

For a brief span of seconds, he thinks.
He weighs his options, calculates the odds.
A quick mind and a warm heart.
He has both.

Heart wins tonight.
He dives.

Tailor

he knew
(or he thought he knew)
the man beside him in the picture.

talked to him
worked with him
laughed at him
trusted him

loved him.

he knew
(or he thought he knew)
the man beside him in the picture.

he was wrong.

he knew
(or he thought he knew)
the man he saw in the mirror.

he killed the man in the picture.
he killed the man beside him in the picture.
he killed them both.

he finally knew
(he really knew)
the man beside him in the picture.
the man he saw in the mirror.

Reading a book

I have picked up books once more, and I may have commented on this previously, but it is worth revisiting.

I relish the feel of paper between my fingers, maybe cool and crisp, or maybe grainy and damp from the sweat on my fingers, or maybe fragile and fuzzy-soft. The crack of the glue in the spine of a book is like no other muted, calming sound I have ever encountered, but it is one of the most satisfying noises to hear.

Within are splotches of ink stamped or sprayed onto the page that have meaning, and I devour them eagerly, scanning the pages for the story I hope is waiting for me to discover it.

Books are great. I have been listening to Tolkien for about a day and a half; can you tell?

Grandiose pronouncements. You are welcome.

I have reestablished myself in my own room with my computer and also with my bed and my couch and my clothes and my books.
While I did enjoy my time away, I do prefer the shorter commute.
I am also pleased to return to, if not more reliable, more predictably unreliable, internet access.
I am going to be trying to catch up on posts. The goal was, if I am correct in my thinking, to average a post a day. I think to make up the difference by posting more than once for several days in succession. This plan seems sound to me.

Having explained my plan, I shall commence. This has been post one of the great return to the internet.

Absence made excuses for

Have been house-sitting for a week or so, first sans internet, then sans keyboard, then sans good internet connection...

Hence my disappearance.

Will likely continue for another week or so.

I will have a lot of ground to cover once I am back for good.

Not really anything important, just a lot of posts to make up.