Hrm.

“That’s the point of us. You have potential. I’m here to bring it out.”

“Potential as what?”

“As a human being. You have all the basic ingrediants. You’re really very likable, when you put your mind to it. You make people laugh, when you can be bothered, and you’re kind, and when you decide you like someone then that person feels as though she’s the center of the whole world, and that’s a very sexy feeling. It’s just that most of the time you can’t be bothered.”

“No,” is all I can think of to say.

“You just … you don’t do anything. You get lost in your head, and you sit around thinking instead of getting on with something, and most of the time you think rubbish. You always seem to miss what’s really happening.”

I caught a review of the movie recently that went into that deep nonsense about how Rob is every man, or every average man, or some psycho babble/hip jive that I consistently refer to as being above my level of conceptualization. I don’t know how average Rob Gordon is, but I identify with the script at times, chords are struck even.

Even before the scenes in the book talking about the fear of death of loved ones (which didn’t make the movie) I was thinking tonight about frailty. As part of my latest “I’m getting to old for this shit” round I’ve trying to settle with my more unhealthy emotions I’ve thought a bit more about what I want and I still feel a sort of “life is too short not to try” motivation.

I do tire of people martyring themselves to keep me from getting hurt. I really don’t have the fucking time for it and I’m quite happy with the games ending and them just buggering off already.