I found myself typing these words to my Sensei, who was sharing with me how her blog review of a book was commented on by the author himself. (read it here)
The reason Gaiman came up in the conversation was that I jokingly plotted to review one of Gaiman's books so he too, will comment on it.
It was at this moment I realised what a true fangirl I am: I was seriously teary-eyed at the mere THOUGHT of Neil Gaiman reading my stupid, rubbish-filled, no-readers-at-all, insignificant blog. I was TEARY-EYED. As in: ZOMG how HAPPY I will be, how FULFILLED, how I will be able to DIE HAPPY.
I am weird like that, but on hindsight (because hindsight is always 20/20) I think not.
Because there is no way anyone can read Neil Gaiman's works and not be blown away. Those who don't like his works, have yet to read his works. Neil Gaiman is the writer I want to be: Witty, clever, sincere, endlessly imaginative and at the same time, approachable.
Even in person - funny, likeable, delicious Brit accent, cool without being obnoxious, rumpled but terribly good-looking in a smart kind of way.
Remember, I want to marry his brain. Amanda Palmer may have his body, but I want his BRAINZ.
Because how can you NOT marry the brain that came up with Neverwhere? Fragile Things? SAND-FRIGGIN-MAN? American Gods? Smokes and Mirrors? Coraline? Stardust? Anansi Boys? NEVER-FRIGGIN-WHERE??? (which is my favourite book of all time, par none)
Even until the day I lie decrepit and dying on a bed, surrounded by my family, I will request for my body to be buried with his books.
Go buy your own Neil Gaiman books, grandkids. Granny's going down with literature in tow.
Because GRANNY LOVE NEIL GAIMAN LONG TIME.
*creepy music, creepy laugh, flashing lightning, flashing sound*
Okay, that bit being over and done with... and now we wait for Neil Gaiman to take a law suit against me, ordering the FIRST EVER internet restraining order, where I will be disallowed forever from typing his GLORIOUS NAME, or visiting his Journal, or reading his works, or ever even VIEW his pictures on the net.
I will still be happy. BECAUSE I LOVE NEIL GAIMAN.... REALLY. LONG. TIME. Muahahahahahahahahaha.
And On to Other Things...
So in explaining my previous emo post, I think I was having one of those pensive moments I often have.
I used to have a lot more of those pensive moments, but of late, they attack rarely, though when they do it always overwhelms me and surprises me. Kind of like Lucky, who sneaks up from behind - you think he's sleeping, because he is prostrate on the floor, legs tucked under his body, eyes closed, so you think it safe to walk past him... but it isn't. He will grab you and try to kill you with love, affection and razor-sharp claws.
Yeah. Like that la.
And these pensive moments always start with nothing more than a flitting thought - one of those random things you think of at the randomest times.
Then before you know it, your body's full of scratches (metaphorically, and literally, if your brain is still tuned to the bit about Lucky) and you're feeling thoroughly down on yourself.
The previous post, of course, is about a certain someone, as is quite obvious. About how I just want things to go back to the way they were. Because the way things were were so good, until my own stupidity went and spoiled everything. I only wish one day this person-shape hole will be filled again. Someday.
Because not having it there is almost about as painful as having it there.
2 comments:
Ah, to be young again and have such passion for a writer.
You should try reading some Terry Pratchett. I just love the madness that sheaths the satire.
Then there is Jasper Fforde more madness wrapped around some fantastic narrative.
OK, I shall go now. I just decided to visit some random blogs. Keep up the good work - and have fun,
Simon.
Hi Simon,
Thanks for ur comment! Always nice to read random well-wishing comments. XD I do read Terry Pratchett, but Gaiman trumps all. Haha.
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