LOTRips -la petite mort
Jul. 28th, 2004 12:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hackthis_archive1. I'm not a political person, because really, I like my blood-pressure the way it is; however, I have the seen the future of politics, and lo, it's all fucking good. Barack Obama, people. I will stump for this man, and I don't even live in Illinois. My inner Lex started talking about donations and "connections" and stuff. Obama/Clinton in 2008.
Also, there's now a Obama Blog (Link gacked from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
blunaris)
2. Many many moons agobezzy made me this fantabulous Jeff Buckley CD with all sorts of rare shit on it, but it seems to be dying on me, and I'm v v sad.
3. Announcement for the good of all: There's a fic/RPS/fan community for Brokeback Mountain:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
wranglers. Yee haw.
4.serialkarma is moving, which means she will be MIA for a while, which has me a little stressed (yes, her moving is all about me), but she asked for some 'ending/beginning-type' stuff and I said 'okay' and everybody started talking, so I had to slap down a 1000 word/30 minute max.
Improv: polyester, bell, press, fountain, dim
LOTRips
la petite mort
His leaving is a very quiet affair, which is exactly how he wants it.
Billy's never been one for shouting and fanfare or all the bright lights and loud noises that Dom loves so much. He would much rather live his life away from the press and the tabloids and all that 'who's shagging who' business. He can understand why some people crave it, but it's just not him. He's much more low-key than that, and as the sun rises outside his hotel window, he snaps the lid of his suitcase closed and sits down on the polyester duvet to wait.
He hopes to go out just as he came in, very quietly and without attracting attention. The Scottish aren't known for making a scene; that's much more a French thing.
*
He’s arranged for an early flight home so he doesn’t run as much risk of running into people in the lobby or at the airport, and when the bellhop arrives he doesn’t even glance at Billy. Hats can work wonders for the right person, and in the lift going down, Billy presses the tips of his fingers to his eyes to keep out the fluorescent lighting of a world he's trying to escape before it eats him alive.
*
He leaves a note for Dominic at the desk when he checks out. He doesn’t need everyone to find him. Just the ones who count. He's just going to go away for a little while until everyone else has forgotten all about him.
*
He pauses to look at the sun rising over the fountain, because there are no fans clamouring for his autograph and no photographers shouting for him to turn in their direction when he crosses from the lobby to the taxi, he thinks that this is how his life should be. The anonymity. He's missed that. He's not going to be hypocritical about it, there are things about what he does that he loves, but Billy's never wanted to be Brad Pitt or George Clooney; he's too attached to his privacy for that. He wanted to give what he could for PJ and for the film, and just because he doesn't want the fame, doesn't mean he doesn't want the success too.
He thinks everything would be perfect if he could do what he loves and have it succeed, and then go home and have everyone forget what he looks like. A little bit like Daniel Day-Lewis, but not quite.
*
He checks-in at the airport, and when he goes through security, he can feel the guards second-looks, the 'I-should-know-you-but-I-don't-know-why' glances; and he knows he'll get them for the rest of his life. He hopes that'll be as far as it goes from now on though; he's had enough of the star life -- except that he's grown addicted to first class, so there are some things that he won't change in the next stage of his life.
*
Billy thinks that Comic-Con was a good last stand, and he's glad that Dom was there with him; he's glad he got to share the final hurrah with someone he loves. He suspects that most retirement parties aren't nearly as well attended as his own. Of course, he doubts that anybody knows that's what it was, but Billy's had enough of public life and he's ready to go back home.
So he sits back in his seat, closes his eyes and waits for the plane to prepare for take off.
He's just drifting off when someone drops down in the seat next to him and a familiar voice asks, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
Billy smiles without opening his eyes. "No," he replies. "You never seen me before at all."
-end-
Also, there's now a Obama Blog (Link gacked from
blunaris)2. Many many moons ago
bezzy made me this fantabulous Jeff Buckley CD with all sorts of rare shit on it, but it seems to be dying on me, and I'm v v sad. 3. Announcement for the good of all: There's a fic/RPS/fan community for Brokeback Mountain:
wranglers. Yee haw.4.
serialkarma is moving, which means she will be MIA for a while, which has me a little stressed (yes, her moving is all about me), but she asked for some 'ending/beginning-type' stuff and I said 'okay' and everybody started talking, so I had to slap down a 1000 word/30 minute max. Improv: polyester, bell, press, fountain, dim
LOTRips
la petite mort
His leaving is a very quiet affair, which is exactly how he wants it.
Billy's never been one for shouting and fanfare or all the bright lights and loud noises that Dom loves so much. He would much rather live his life away from the press and the tabloids and all that 'who's shagging who' business. He can understand why some people crave it, but it's just not him. He's much more low-key than that, and as the sun rises outside his hotel window, he snaps the lid of his suitcase closed and sits down on the polyester duvet to wait.
He hopes to go out just as he came in, very quietly and without attracting attention. The Scottish aren't known for making a scene; that's much more a French thing.
He’s arranged for an early flight home so he doesn’t run as much risk of running into people in the lobby or at the airport, and when the bellhop arrives he doesn’t even glance at Billy. Hats can work wonders for the right person, and in the lift going down, Billy presses the tips of his fingers to his eyes to keep out the fluorescent lighting of a world he's trying to escape before it eats him alive.
He leaves a note for Dominic at the desk when he checks out. He doesn’t need everyone to find him. Just the ones who count. He's just going to go away for a little while until everyone else has forgotten all about him.
He pauses to look at the sun rising over the fountain, because there are no fans clamouring for his autograph and no photographers shouting for him to turn in their direction when he crosses from the lobby to the taxi, he thinks that this is how his life should be. The anonymity. He's missed that. He's not going to be hypocritical about it, there are things about what he does that he loves, but Billy's never wanted to be Brad Pitt or George Clooney; he's too attached to his privacy for that. He wanted to give what he could for PJ and for the film, and just because he doesn't want the fame, doesn't mean he doesn't want the success too.
He thinks everything would be perfect if he could do what he loves and have it succeed, and then go home and have everyone forget what he looks like. A little bit like Daniel Day-Lewis, but not quite.
He checks-in at the airport, and when he goes through security, he can feel the guards second-looks, the 'I-should-know-you-but-I-don't-know-why' glances; and he knows he'll get them for the rest of his life. He hopes that'll be as far as it goes from now on though; he's had enough of the star life -- except that he's grown addicted to first class, so there are some things that he won't change in the next stage of his life.
Billy thinks that Comic-Con was a good last stand, and he's glad that Dom was there with him; he's glad he got to share the final hurrah with someone he loves. He suspects that most retirement parties aren't nearly as well attended as his own. Of course, he doubts that anybody knows that's what it was, but Billy's had enough of public life and he's ready to go back home.
So he sits back in his seat, closes his eyes and waits for the plane to prepare for take off.
He's just drifting off when someone drops down in the seat next to him and a familiar voice asks, "Don't I know you from somewhere?"
Billy smiles without opening his eyes. "No," he replies. "You never seen me before at all."
-end-
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no subject
Date: 2004-07-30 09:59 am (UTC)