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P E T R O L B O M B

ラブは今が出盛りだ。

Created on 2006-10-18 18:30:40 (#11416916), last updated 2009-11-21

95 comments received, 218 comments posted

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38 Journal Entries, 19 Tags, 2 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 49 Userpics

Basic Info

Name:	Beckeroo.
Birthdate:	08-27
Location:	Lake Jackson, Texas, United States

Bio

P E T R O L { BOMB }

In the history of language
the first obscenity was silence.

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LAYOUT

PROFILE

I will write something here eventually, when I am feeling particularly inspired. Until then:

IT'S BECK, YO.→19. Studying Philosophy. Femmegeek extraordinaire. Aspiring Med student and hopeful traveler.
→ (]seafood[) of ffxi (remora), reithe of chikapow!.net, formerly 凡人&叫び声! of lj, & becky the blue-butt baboon of middle school. D:
→ ib diploma in london. bio, english, & history higher level. deutsch, 日本語, & maths standard. extended essay on history.
→ Oldboy, Das Experiment, Hero, Goodbye Lenin!, This is England, 주유소 습격 사건, 싸이보그지만 괜찮아, 電車男, 殺し屋１, etc. (Huge 三池崇史 fan ♥)
→ The Gun-Seller (Laurie), Something Wicked This Way Comes (Bradbury), Me Talk Pretty One Day (Sedaris), La lotería en Babilonia (Borges, in Labyrinths) Jeeves&Wooster stories (Wodehouse), etc.

This is the beginning.
Almost anything can happen.
This is where you find
the creation of light, a fish wriggling onto land,
the first word of Paradise Lost on an empty page.
Think of an egg, the letter A,
a woman ironing on a bare stage
as the heavy curtain rises.
This is the very beginning.
The first-person narrator introduces hirnself,
tells us about his lineage.
The mezzo-soprano stands in the wings.
Here the climbers are studying a map
or pulling on their long woolen socks.
This is early on, years before the Ark, dawn.
The profile of an animal is being smeared
on the wall of a cave,
and you have not yet learned to crawl.
This is the opening, the gambit,
a pawn moving forward an inch.
This is your first night with her,
your first night without her.
This is the first part
where the wheels begin to turn,
where the elevator begins its ascent,
before the doors lurch apart.

This is the middle.
Things have had time to get complicated,
messy, really. Nothing is simple anymore.
Cities have sprouted up along the rivers
teeming with people at cross-purposes—
a million schemes, a million wild looks.
Disappointment unshoulders his knapsack
here and pitches his ragged tent.
This is the sticky part where the plot congeals,
where the action suddenly reverses
or swerves off in an outrageous direction.
Here the narrator devotes a long paragraph
to why Miriam does not want Edward's child.
Someone hides a letter under a pillow.
Here the aria rises to a pitch,
a song of betrayal, salted with revenge.
And the climbing party is stuck on a ledge
halfway up the mountain.
This is the bridge, the painful modulation.
This is the thick of things.
So much is crowded into the middle—
the guitars of Spain, piles of ripe avocados,
Russian uniforms, noisy parties,
lakeside kisses, arguments heard through a wall—
too much to name, too much to think about.

Aristotle by Billy Collins

And this is the end,
the car running out of road,
the river losing its name in an ocean,
the long nose of the photographed horse
touching the white electronic line.
This is the colophon, the last elephant in the parade,
the empty wheelchair,
and pigeons floating down in the evening.
Here the stage is littered with bodies,
the narrator leads the characters to their cells,
and the climbers are in their graves.
It is me hitting the period
and you closing the book.
It is Sylvia Plath in the kitchen
and St. Clement with an anchor around his neck.
This is the final bit
thinning away to nothing.
This is the end, according to Aristotle,
what we have all been waiting for,
what everything comes down to,
the destination we cannot help imagining,
a streak of light in the sky,
a hat on a peg, and outside the cabin, falling leaves.

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Interests (59):

accents, action league now!, animal collective, asian movies, bad puns, bards, blackadder, bubble tea, caffeine, david attenborough, david bowie, ddr, dir en grey, doctor who, fangirling, fashion design, final fantasy xi, flcl, fruits, fukaya yuichiro, go go yubari, gorillaz, hide, his dark materials, house, hugh laurie, japanese street fashion, journalism, jrock, languages, literacy, miyavi, mythology, nightmare, oshare, panic*ch, paradise kiss, phantasmagoria, philosophy, photography, porno graffiti, postsecret, russian, saikano, seek, stigmata, sushi, the black mages, the it crowd, theatre, time travel, trainspotting, web design, wonka goggles, writing, yaoi, yoko kanno, zombie powder, zombies

External Services:

petrolbomb@livejournal.com

Schools:

Brazoswood High School - Clute, TX (2003 - 2005)
ACS Cobham International School - Cobham, England - Surrey, United Kingdom (2005 - 2007)
Boston University - Boston, MA (2007 - present)

Friends [View Entries]

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bonjin, chairman_wow, corrosivision, hackercase, hoppypotty, omg_anna, scintillae, warui_ki

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