:: Purposeful Death Overhead ::

procastinating on too much stuff. Overload.

JENNY
Hey, Forrest, were you scared inVietnam?

FORREST
Yes. Well, I, I don't know.
EXT. VIETNAM - FLASHBACK - NIGHT
Forrest looks up into the sky as the rain stops. Forrest
removes his helmet. The stars emerge from behind the clouds.

FORREST (V.O.)
Sometimes it would stop raining long enough for the stars to come out. And then it was nice. It was like just before the sun goes to bed down on the bayou...
EXT. BAYOU - FLASHBACK - SUNSET
Forrest stands on his boat and looks at a deep orange and red sunset.

FORREST (V.O.)
There was over a million sparkles on
the water. Like that mountain lake.
EXT. MOUNTAIN LAKE - FLASHBACK - DAY
Forrest runs along a highway. A lake reflects the mountains and the sky.

FORREST (V.O.)
It was so clear, Jenny. It looks
like there were two skies, one on
top of the other. And then in the
desert, when the sun comes up...

EXT. DESERT - FLASHBACK - SUNRISE
Forrest runs along a desert highway. The morning light casts an orange glow over the desert.
FORREST (V.O.)
I couldn't tell where heavens stopped and the earth began. It was so beautiful.
INT. GUMP HOUSE - MORNING
Forrest looks at Jenny. Jenny looks out the window.

JENNY
I wish I could have been there with you.

FORREST
You were.

Jenny reaches over and takes Forrest's hand.

JENNY
I love you.

FORREST (V.O.)
You died on a Saturday morning.

EXT. JENNY'S GRAVE AT OLD OAK TREE - DAY

Forrest stands under the old oak tree where Jenny has been buried.

FORREST
And I had you placed here under our tree.

Jenny's grave marker. Forrest tries to hold back his tears.

FORREST
And I had that house of your father's bulldozed to the ground.

EXT. JENNY'S OLD HOUSE - DAY
Forrest watches as Jenny's dad's house is knocked down by a
bulldozer.
FORREST (V.O.)
Momma...

EXT. JENNY'S GRAVE

FORREST
...always said dyin' was a part of life.
Jenny's grave marker reads: JENNY GUMP July 16, 1945 -- March 22, 1982 Beloved Mother, Wife and Friend

:: Alina 7:08 PM

Last night, amidst sponging up an overflowing basement, I knew the Howard Roark of the granite quarry.

and more fully comprehended the wonder that is Ayn Rand

:: Alina 8:11 PM

*salutes American flag*

Ladies and Gentlemen, last night's endevours have paid off.

:: Alina 9:13 AM

*CAUTION: REVERSE PAJAMA SNOW DANCE IN PROGRESS*

:: Alina 2:37 AM

I feel blah today. I've got work, but i feel like I can procastinate. Which, like with the IA, i definately did. Yep, i did about 1/2 of the thing this morning then arrived to school somewhere in the middle of fourth period. Awesome, Alina.

Whatever, at least i didn't spend all of yesterday panicking my ass of about it. Instead i went shopping in the Bethesda with Eszter and Chris Ray. Driving with Eszter was...quite an experiance..;) Traffic signals? Speed limit signs? what'r those again?

Whatever.

During English Loren presented a 10 minute presentation during which she said "um" 33 times. That's about 11 um's a minute.

:: Alina 10:21 PM

I'm really fat right now, but I'll change that.

Phew; now back to IA

:: Alina 4:26 AM

"If its Not a baby,
You're Not pregnant"

as seen as a bumper sticker on the back of a car.

I'd really like an explanation...I am truely confused.
Anyone?







Anyone?

:: Alina 7:48 PM

INT. PAUL'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Paul lies awake, staring at the moon outside his window.

PAUL (V.O.)
I think about all the people I've loved, now long gone.
I think about my beautiful Jan, and how I lost her so many years ago.
I think about all of us walking our own Green Mile, each in our own time. But one thought, more than any other, keeps meawake most nights...
(beat)
...if he could make a mouse live so long, how much longer do I have?

He looks over at the nightstand...

PAUL (V.O.)
We each owe a death, there are no
exceptions, but sometimes, oh God, the Green Mile is so long...

...and WE PAN to reveal Mr. Jingles sleeping fitfully in his cigar box, chasing that spool in his dreams as we

FADE OUT:

:: Alina 2:12 AM

So i got into Maryland. Whooho - even though i freaked about it for the longest while. Actually Im quite disappointed - i got into some weird program called the College Park Scholars - apparently worse than Honors ;( I'm bitched about that, and ill see how to change that so i can at least be with others.

If I didn't get into Honors, i don't see how there's any chance of Hopkins. Oy Vey is all I can really utter at this moment. At least I'm in college. And I refuse to live at home.

*(even though you'll never read this) - sorry john :(

:: Alina 12:59 AM

valentine's day is so awful an invention that im not even gonna mention it

:: Alina 8:36 PM

Its interesting how the relationship with parents de evolves over years. When you're young and you do something awful, you pount and cry, and bring your parents each a cookie as a sign of truce, and all is forgiven. As you get older, nothing is so simple because you (in your belief) are right. You have three choices: to keep bringing your parents that cookie and solemly accept their faulty choices, or inform them that they are not correct- even if that means a bit of shouting. If you choose that second path, it seems that family you know changes. They still say say good morning - when you say it to them, they still eat with you - when you specifically ask them to, but a strange wall seems to form, so even if you bring out that cookie as a means of restoring order, they cooly accept it - "thanks," and keeping watching their movie. You're just another person living in the house, and if you ask about something, it is as though you're a bother, like you're complaining again, and all they're doing is compling with the orders of a nuescence who main goal in life is to yell and boss people around.

I see that's how the estrangement between parent and child occurs - waking up after some passionate fight that each feels their right about, one suddenly realizes they don't need their parents any more for survival. They move out, start their own world, and the parents ignore their own repressed feeling of love.

Then one day - years have passed, not one word, and a chance spill of luggage at an airport brings two of you face to face. You two parties exchanges greetings - politely, but not too politely. There's a moment of awkward silence, during which you each long to say to the other party -

some small talk, perhaps a muffin and another exchange of fake smiles. And then you're off, back into your personalized world, and you don't ever think of the other except for at night, when you're falling asleep, faintly thinking "i remember . I had a ..."

And so be it, you live , until one day, a black envelope comes.

:: Alina 9:05 PM

I despite being a nun. It's god-awful. There's nothing to say but that I hate it, every bit and piece of being the background, being unnoticed by the world! We literarilly stood for an hour and 1/2 learning a 6 measure piece. Granted it was a six part harmony, but it got ridiculous. It's completely unorganized without Frezzo. I also felt alone today :(. Half of the nuns weren't there, and i had no one to talk to.


It seems as though chorus and "real roles" are in completely different worlds.

:: Alina 9:05 PM

A while back I read Matt's LJ which expressed his love of peanut butter. I now must affirm his comment as I am utterly addicted to the stuff.

:: Alina 1:35 AM