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In case you're the type who doesn't look at profiles, I started this journal to display the pseudo-prose stuff I sometimes write at night, with normal paper and pens. Sometimes it's really short and odd, sometimes it's long and actually coherent, sometimes it's a mixture of the two. To see my normal LJ, feel free to click on the link thereof. :)

(no subject)

I've started another LJ. This one's to show the pseudo-prose that I write late at night sometimes to the world. Username? dizmo Enjoy! :)

My first official pseudo-prose piece.

We go about a myriad of different lives, scattered across the globe. We look at five young men that we've never met, and likely never will. And we love them.

Why? It's a question with more answers than there are people willing to answer it. Is it because of their fame? No. All that served to do was bring them to our attention.

Well, then, is it their fortune? No. Those riches are a sign of that love, not the cause of it. Money that comes from our pockets, through a roundabout route, to them- or at least a fraction of it. And while they know the source, they do not know the individual sources.

All right, then. Is it their faces? No. Those are just lures. Despite our constant commentary in approval of those faces, they aren't what inspire our devotion. We pass hundreds of pretty faces on the streets ecery day, but don't come clamoring for more the way we do for these five faces.

Could it be the constant flood of merchandise? No. That's just another thing that began the awareness. A thing which even we often look with disdain upon.

All right. What is it then? On the one hand, it's nothing. On the other, it's a million different things.

It's the harmonizing in 'O Holy Night' that gives us an inkling as to what a heavenly choir might sound like.

It's their ordeal with someone who wanted to exploit their youthful looks and talented harmonies, and their ability to come out of it with dignity and heads held high.

It's their very imperfection - bad hairstyles, worse clothing - and the way we can look upon those things and laugh, knowing that even that can't take away from the whole.

It's the friendly arguments between us as to which deserves the title of 'favorite', and the comfort in knowing that there's bound to be a favorite for everyone who wants one.

It's the excitement we have watching them dance, and the fun we have trying to emulate those moves, whether we succeed or fail.

It's the solidarity we show against their detractors. They could care less about what others say - they're having a blast. The same can be said for us.

It's the moment of panic making sure the VCR is set right before a TV appearance.

It's dancing like a maniac in your room or car while listening to their songs.

It's the inability to get those songs out of your head for hours.

It's the shared thrill we all feel when we see them succeed.

It's the shared disappointment we have when we see a failure - and the certain knowledge that they won't be content with not improving upon it.

It's the pure adrenaline rush of the concert.

It's the knowledge that we can criticize them and still be content in our fandom.

It's the sense of community and family that's sprung up between people who are wildly different, yet still find them as a common bond.

It's Justin's dazzling smile and magnetic charisma.

It's Chris's ready sense of humor and infinite font of youthfulness and energy.

It's Joey's flirtatiousness and innate goofiness combined with a sense of responsibility.

It's Lance's deep timbre, strong hands, and southern charm.

It's JC's utter confidence, and the way he manages to get away with wearing what most people wouldn't be caught dead in.

It's the fact that they are five guys who support and rely on one another in life, as well as merely vocally.

It's the impossible dream of meeting them face-to-face one day.

And ultimately, it's the fact that they acknowledge, and we acknowledge along with them. That they're just five dorks who made good with some hard work. And who knows, maybe we're the next dorks who're going to do it.

These and a thousand other reasons are what being an *NSYNC fan is really about.

We aren't stopping you from not caring, but trust us, you're missing out.

Absolutely random blathering.

The eye stares but does not see.
For it is made of Silly Putty.

One of my less coherent snippets...

Howard and Tempura walked in the lightning. Nobody knew why but it was what happened. Reasons were unneeded. Just the two of them and the lightning. Who ever cared stopped when the habit finally killed them.

Last one of the day, maybe. If you wanna know what I'm talking about, you can ask...

She sat in her room, staring idly at the wall, just what she'd been doing for the last minute, second, hour, she wasn't sure. It could have been a day. If anyone had been there, they might have been concerned. As it was, there was nobody present to witness, and that was just as she preferred it. Everyone on the station had their own lives and she had no idea how even her very presence there was influencing things. She wanted as little influence as possible, lest she irrevocably damage the future. But knowing the hard road to that future made it difficult. Almost unbearably so, at times. So she sat, and she stared.

Hmmmmm.

Angst. It kinda baffles me sometimes. Well, I don't know for sure that 'baffles' is really the word I want to use, but....

I have friends and even acquaintences who are, or have been, going through some pretty difficult times lately. And although I always lend a friendly ear and a shoulder to cry on, so to speak, I know that it's foolish and even rather presumptuous of me to say that I could possibly know what they are going through.

I don't know if it's that I necessarily have a better life experience than they do- I've certainly had problems of my own, whether I'm just generally in denial, or whether I simply don't function that way. I just don't really get down that often. I can think of one time in my life that I've ever even remotely felt what I'd define as angst, and that was in early 1999. Am I just lucky? Who knows.

Sometimes I feel extremely fortunate that I've manage to avoid even the supposed requisite 'teen angst', so to speak, even though I'm 21 now... But then sometimes it's like... well, I don't know. I don't have the luxury of being able to relate to people who are having a real tough time dealing with things, and I want to be able to do that.

I don't know, maybe this whole thing is one of those reasons I rarely calm down, so to speak. I find it really hard to be serious... or maybe it's the other way around. Maybe because I don't take all that many things too seriously, they don't affect me in that way.

I'm confused by the whole concept, I think. It perplexes me. I can't say that I want to be in the depths of despair, so to speak, as that would just really SUCK, but... Ahwell.

Too bad happy-fluffy stuff doesn't tend to be all that profound. :P