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Shit - why do I gravitate to Moulin Rouge when I'm tired and drunk?
I mean I love musicals, but it makes me cry every time. And not because she dies either, just because love is reserved for the beautiful. I mean she's a disease riddled whore. But of course she inspires a lifelong love. Of course.
Think about it. From Romeo & Juliet onwards, all the "great" love stories involve either love at first sight or women who are incredibly beautiful. Usually both. * Jane Eyre is an exception and she ends up with a blind, scarred old man because she is plain and a goody-goody so that's okay*
I hate the idea that every account of true love starts with someone young, lithe and impeccable manners. Go on, I challange you to find me a FEMALEW anti-hero. Even Tank Girl was fit.
Ignore me. It just rubs. Like a blister. It doesn't affect my life, but it's there every move I make.
I stop drinking tomorrow. I intend.
Hopefully I'll stop getting so damn maudlin.
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