Explanation
Mar. 21st, 2006 12:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trinsyI wish I could fly into a blind rage, demolish a room, and then throw myself into the arms of someone who actually understood me, and just sob my heart out.
To anyone who was confused by that statement (as I certainly would be, were I you), I thought this excerpt from one of my original fiction stories would clarify it.
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Trinity shouted. She snatched up a book and hurled it across the room. “SHUT UP! I DON’T CARE! I DON’T CARE!” She was tearing the room apart now, ripping pages out of books, knocking over tables, smashing lamps. “I DON’T CARE! I DON’T CARE!” she repeated. And now she had unleashed her fury; she was channeling every bitter, and angry, and resentful, and scared, and horrified thought into her actions; she was blind, unaware of what she was doing, outside of herself; and yet inhabiting herself more fully than she had ever thought possible. What she did didn’t matter anymore; what people thought of her didn’t matter. All that mattered was that someone know and feel and understand the horror within her.
I'm not sure if that really cleared it up, or if the excerpt even makes any sense at all. This scene would work so much better in a movie. But at the moment, writing is all I have...
To anyone who was confused by that statement (as I certainly would be, were I you), I thought this excerpt from one of my original fiction stories would clarify it.
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” Trinity shouted. She snatched up a book and hurled it across the room. “SHUT UP! I DON’T CARE! I DON’T CARE!” She was tearing the room apart now, ripping pages out of books, knocking over tables, smashing lamps. “I DON’T CARE! I DON’T CARE!” she repeated. And now she had unleashed her fury; she was channeling every bitter, and angry, and resentful, and scared, and horrified thought into her actions; she was blind, unaware of what she was doing, outside of herself; and yet inhabiting herself more fully than she had ever thought possible. What she did didn’t matter anymore; what people thought of her didn’t matter. All that mattered was that someone know and feel and understand the horror within her.
I'm not sure if that really cleared it up, or if the excerpt even makes any sense at all. This scene would work so much better in a movie. But at the moment, writing is all I have...
