Saturday, February 21, 2009

4N6!

Oh, Forensics. A veritable dive into a dodgy pool of intellectualism and the arts. It never ceases to amaze and delight the senses, this boundless platter of social promiscuity. I've met some of the oddest, most amusing, sinful and noble people at this 3 day frenzy of dramatics and oration. A mad dash with the best and the worst, and I love each and every one of them, those crazy kids. A dash of variation this year has made the whole affair infinitely more vibrant, given it a whole new sheen, as it were - ah, judging. Not exactly the power trip I expected, but a terribly sexy position to be in nonetheless.

Truly knowing how these participants felt as they looked on at the stony-eyed, seemingly bored and contemptuous judge: horror, fear, anger, euphoria - all tempestuously swirling round them, suffusing the air in the room with its thickness. Certainly, invoking such powerful, so very human, emotions, one can't help but feel a little deific. Much like knowing you're the center of attention in a room, even when everyone's trying to be nonchalant about it. Oh, such exhibitionism! But this being very certainly my last year, I'd like to believe I'd made an impact on their lives - ill or good, it doesn't really matter, of course. What truly matters is remembrance, a searing mark branded onto their psyche. Altogether, it would be nice to think I was a positive force for most people: wielding a pink pen and draped in flamenco-esque trappings, scribbling with impunity. Encouraging personal growth, as such. Meh. And after being tossed around in the torrent of this 3 day deluge of dreams made and broken, I can happily say I've come back with a menagerie of entertaining new friends. And ones of old? Embraced with ever more fervor. Tarts and tartlets, you're all greater than you think and bundled with just as many flaws; because certainly, while greatness gives us hope and standing, our flaws define us, give us a measure of perspective. Think, what would we be without such definition and insight? Boring, plebeian and hideous.

But piss it all, let us simply celebrate our overly-dramatic intellectual elitism, let us bask in the licking flames of our passions and neuroses. Close.

1 comment:

yvonen s. said...

"wielding a pink pen and draped in flamenco-esque trappings, scribbling with impunity."

Hang on Alex. So whose pink pen is this exactly? It wouldn't happen to be one you stole from your ever-so-accommodating "tartlet friend of old" and refused to return would it hmmmmMMMMM?

PS: I would be much easier on you if you hadn't stolen my pink shoes the year before

PPS: I still love you, you fucking elitist

PPPS: But I expect that pen back when I come over there to beat you up in July

PPPPS: It will be kinky