it's 2:51 am, on September 28, 2001 - al's campaign of clay.
~
I had an email typed all out to river-- I quoted Al's email about the pedestrian and postcards meaning nothing but that. I quoted someone saying, 'it had to be jealousy, because if it didn't hurt, it would simply be lust'. I quoted Justin -- qaf justin -- saying, 'yearning is wanting so badly it hurts.'
I talked about Chris having a crush on adam duritz, his voice, and how his voice conveys *hurt*. I, I.
I was talking about how tonight, I've been bitter and sad, and now I'm just flat-out sad.
There was a lot about the winter, and how I can't handle it.
I was upset, in a loss-sense of the word, that the computer ate that particular email, but now I think I'm not, because I didn't need to angst in my journal. (Though I did need to talk to Riv with biting honesty, because that's the only place I have it left.)
Instead of all this winter, however, I can talk about this new idea I have. Um, because it's non-boyband related, mostly, and also, it's having to do with Al's campaign of clay.
Her campaign goes along the lines of:
I don't know how many of us read Wizard magazine, but I happened to pick up this month's issue at Kroger's, at two o'clock this morning, and they were doing their mock-casting of another X-Men movie. and they cast JC from NSYNC as Bobby Drake.
I, I don't know. I feel like I made my entire life out of clay.
~*~
Aside from feet of clay, I have a little clay set of Pete and Remy in my head, just biting to be put behind glass. Them pressed against each other in the laundry room; stolen kisses while they're locked in. A shank in the back because Remy doesn't know what he's doing. Pete, all in all, being the naive one.
Remy on smack. Pete big and tough, in wifebeaters and wearing a crucifix because he feels the guilt of death upon him so damned tight.
See, even if Chris is the sexy, I-own-the-world one, I still see Remy as Toby. I can't help it. It's in the air. I can smell it.
Everyone else might see him as Keller, Remy, sexy daredevil, toss-it-off Remy... but I don't know. He'll always be a toby to me.
There's this ani difranco song, called 'superhero'. I was downloading random songs today, and that was one of them. And it made me want to give justin -- timberlake this time -- the mutant power to disappear.
The story goes like this.
Sleepwalking through the all night drug store
Baptized in florescent light
I found religion in the greeting card aisle
Now I know hallmark was right
And every pop song on the radio
Is suddenly speaking to me
Yeah art may immitate life
But life immitates tv
~*~
The cell isn't supposed to have little holes in the ceiling, for the smallest bit of fresh air to seep down for them to breathe. Remy can smell it, though, the fresh air that smells like guards and the smoke of their factories. The collar around his neck is uncomfortable and heavy and chafes.
The guy he's bunking with this week is pretty in a tough way. He works out every day. He has no collar, and when Remy asked, he shrugged. "All I do is disappear."
Remy said, "oh."
He said, "I'm Justin." He also said, "they don't take away my powers because I can't do anything. They'd probably like me to stay invisible all the time."
The guy goes to church even though he doesn't look very interested in praying, and looks a little, shifty, sitting in a chair listening to the sermon. He kisses the cross. He looks big and hulking in wifebeaters, and never says anything that he doesn't think about first.
Remy's calculating mind appreciates how dangerous he could be unchecked; when he's high, Remy just wants him to go away.
~*~
See, I can see this, but I can't say it right. It's like a monster of a thing, taking over my stomach. It has my mythology in every word, or it should. It comes out stilted.
The story, however, would also go like this.
~*~
Bobby and Remy sit together some times, to remind themselves of the fact that once upon a time, they were superheros. Most of the rest of them are dead -- none of the other X-men are interned in this prison, not that they've seen in a long time.
Who would have thought that it would be the police, and not Apocalypse, to finally shut them down.
When they do sit together, the table clears, and they eat their chicken nuggets angrily. One day, his new podmate justin sits down with them and Bobby says, "who the fuck is this?"
Justin glances down at his hand to see it fading away slowly. Remy says, "No one." Bobby doesn't comment.
But that's a lie. They know it; they've seen his face on TV. The whole room looks to him, knows that if they could, they'd take him.
So Bobby looks him up and down. He says, "Why isn't he collared?"
Remy glances over. "He jus' turns invisible. Guess they didn' want him."
Justin gets 'isn't it ironic' by Alanis Morissette stuck in his head.
~*~
Anyway. That's enough horrible trying-to-make-myself-ill with crossover glee. It doesn't quite fit Al's campaign, but it's as close as I can get right now because I want to keep all the elements separate, feuding. They're not vibing with each other because the only things I've been able to write lately are, warring factions. A lot of warring factions, with the boybands.
I don't know how I picked up all this military language for love and friendship -- I think it comes from something along the lines of, 'true love is war' -- but it sits right. I can't believe I haven't used it earlier.
But. I can't write this, because I'm so not getting it right. I can't make Remy Toby. I can't make Justin right. I don't *want* to think about who Bobby would intern like; and Pete, Pete. Pete.
~*~
They don't ever mention his last podmate.
It went something like this. He was big and strong and Remy loved him, and he broke Remy's arms before Remy got away.
And Remy got even, and now he's in the hospital, and they don't talk about him because Bobby doesn't want to feel sorry for Remy, who is a man he doesn't really like at all. Remy just doesn't want to think about how much he wants Pete back.
~*~
Anyway. The motto of the story is, Superhero by Ani Difranco. Also, Justin wants to disappear, and Remy is an addict.
~
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