Finchel Forever

So... there goes my favourite Glee couple, cry cry cry... I suppose there was no way Finchel could have dragged on to eternity. Glee made the necessary choice splitting them, but it was so incredibly heart breaking. In the meantime, I hate Brody and I want Finn (Cory Monteith was the reason I began watching Glee, I love him) to find out WHO he really is and settle down, remain awesome, and eventually end up together with Rachel again, happily ever after. The Rachel Berry morph/transformation is a little unsettling for me but at least Finn is still incredible. Oh, and Quinn needs to come back soon. Long story short, Finchel has made me cry many times and this was another particularly heartbreaking episode. May they get back together before the end of the season, please...



Favourite Finchel performances:

We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our love was the cure.

Quotes from Everything is Illuminated. Love how it's based on Nazi stuff. Well thought-out in its own way, fantastic combination of tale-telling through odd prose and letters. At the moment, I'm reading A Fraction of the Whole by Steven Toltz  and it's a tad like Everything is Illuminated too. Very freely written book, almost seems like the author sat down and just vomited words onto the page. But nice colorful words, not puke-like at all. Also very, very funny. Phrases like 'delectable golden nuggets of knowledge' would sink right into it.

You are dying, Brod said, because it was the truth, the all-consuming and unacknowledged truth, and she was tired of saying things that weren't the truth. I am, he said. What does it feel like? I don't know, through the hole. I'm scared. “You don’t have to be scared, she said. It’s going to be OK. How is it going to be OK? It’s not going to hurt. I don’t think that’s what I’m afraid of. What are you afraid of? I’m afraid of not being alive.” 

Quote above... exactly...

“But more, I manufacture not-truths for Little Igor. I desire him to feel as if he has a cool brother, and a brother whose life he would desire to impersonate one day. I want Little Igor to be able to boast to his friends about his brother, and to want to be viewed in public places with him. I think that this is why I relish writing for you so much. It makes it possible for me to be not like I am, but as I desire for Little Igor to see me. I can be funny, because I have time to mediate about how to be funny, and I can repair my mistakes when I perform mistakes, and I can be a melancholy person in manners that are interesting, not only melancholy. With writing, we have second chances. You mentioned to me that first evening of our voyage that you thought you might have been born to be a writer. What a terrible thing, I think. But I must tell you, I do not think that you understood the meaning of what you said when you said that. You were making suggestions of how you like to write, and how it is an interesting thing for you to imagine worlds that are not exactly like this one, or worlds that are exactly like this one. It is true, I am certain, that you will write very many more books than I will, but it is me, not you, who was born to be the writer.”

“They reciprocated the great and saving lie--that our love for things is greater than our lover for our love for things--willfully playing the parts they wrote for themselves, willfully creating and believing fictions necessary for life.”

“SADNESS OF THE INTELLECT: Sadness of being misunderstood [sic]; Humor sadness; Sadness of love wit[hou]t release; Sadness of being smart; Sadness of not knowing enough words to [express what you mean]; Sadness of having options; Sadness of wanting sadness; Sadness of confusion; Sadness of domes[tic]ated birds, Sadness of finishing a book; Sadness of remembering; Sadness of forgetting; Anxiety sadness...”

And, favourite:

“It feels like a moment I've lived a thousand times before, as if everything is familiar, right up to the moment of my death, that it will happen again an infinite number of times, that we will meet, marry, have our children, succeed in the ways we have, fail in the ways we have, all exactly the same, always unable to change a thing. I am again at the bottom of an unstoppable wheel, and when I feel my eyes close for death, as they have and will a thousand times, I awake.”