saving the world in love

why can't spiderman love gwen stacey and still beat down the green goblin?
why can't wolverine be an x-man and fuck mariko on the side?
why can't buffy find a stable boyfriend?
why can't superman and lois just do it ?
why can't dawson fuck joey and not have badness ensue?
why can't spies have a long-time girlfriend while still being all espionagey?
why can't cowboys have wives and still shoot other guys up and such?
why can't soaps have stable couples, why can't heroes be in love?
why oh WHY have people drawn a line between the personal and worldly worlds?

i don't know
and i'm fucking a tired of people saying 'you can't be in love and save the world"
because you can; they're just making up excuses to not try, to be 'comfortable', to be 'happy'----this is all part of some lame-ass western value of happiness, which i don't understand
i want all my emotions equally, sadness, anger, jealousy, rage, love, giddiness, stressed, bored, antsy, happy, in love, anti-love, bitter, disillusioned, naive
i refuse to choose just one as a goal

to respond to my question:
because it's not interesting
modern stories never end well because you can't make money off a happy couple who works to save the world---there's no sex appeal, not nearly enough violence-focus, no torid passion, no possibility for perpetual sequels
in short, real meaning, good choices, etc. make for little profit----or so people seem to think
my favorite shows are the ones where people do make good choices as well as bad ones, where people are flawed yet able to be sane and live their lives
eg. buffy can't be with angel because she chooses not to---she could fuck him and perpetually re-ensoul him but it's just too much drama for a girl to deal with---plus he was her high school sweetie---who in their right mind really wants to fuck one person over their entire life? (or, better stated, who wants to be in a relationship with someone who knew them when they were a fuckbag of hormones?)

in terms of most of my other examples, i think it's just a matter of inconceivability---there are no famous examples of couples that last, of people who can save the world and be in love, of passion and love that are intertwined with the desire to do good
which i think is ridiculous, mostly becuase that is in fact my own desire
although i love a good 'i love you but i've chosen darkness/activism/the world' story just as well as anyone, probly more
i'm just sick of all the sappy, bad endings---if you're going to tell a story like this, you have to think of the ramifications
without any examples of people who can do both, people will continue to think they can't do both
but with a dependency on profit, these stories will never be told

guess it's bout time we all did something about that, eh?

by which i'm implying that we should struggle in our own livves to realize that love for the world and for other people is not mutually exclusive
in fact, i would argue they are intimate----i love my sister because she made me mor e aware of the world---i like my friends cuz they pop my bubble; i stop seeing the world my way and start seeing the world as we together see it

so fuck you, people who think they cannot do both
buffy didn't stick with her boytoys cuz they were just that, boytoys; she wasn't ready
spiderman was a douche to let gwen stacey die, and it was probly just a way of making mary jane more central to the story, fucking writers
wolverine had to lose mariko to be more tragic, which i think is lame, but probly chris claremont thought was rockin
superman and lois are ginormous tools, but they have in fact stuck together for a pretty long time
dawson's creek was shit in your mouth, shit in your mouth
spies are penuses (why else do they have so many guns?) and thus cannot allow for vaginas not to be penetrated----either that or they are uncontrollable women who must be tamed by their own use of a phallus--their power is thus reined as they depend upon male power structures
ditto cowboys, and eighties heroes for the most part
soaps and heroes? they're fucked, mostly cuz the writers don't actually care about the characters--when they do, they might do a decent job (see astonishing x-men, alan moore, jamie delano, etc)

more generally, i think people just want to live their lives----their lives being determined by the race for more crap, more experiences with fucking, more ex-lovers---everyone needs to have MORE MORE MORE of everything
hello capitalism in modern america, hello overconsumption
and you can't keep fucking around once you find something that means the world to you, particularly a way of seeing the world that actually makes sense in terms of loving people and living up to your responsibilities to the world
once you know what the world is, what loving someone really means, you can't just think of them as commodities
and thus the story-telling that depends upon commodification runs into a roadblock---with solid characters, the characters themselves unsettle the narrative--they tell you to stop reading their story, stop buying the books, because there is a place for you in the WORLD where you can be happy being sad, angry, and bored

where someone can hold you, you can hold someone, and you can both fight to make the world better than it is, fight to make the world stronger and more capable of healing than it is

hurt

Cut into

prostrate on the floor, I baubled
into your lion-shaped heart
thinking it my own, thinking it
blue and orange, circled by
purple aortic tunnels

prostrate on the floor, wronged,
I traced the sound of it, the words over construction
paper, the hand around my vascular tissues,
the beat that constricted my own, that told me
not to breathe, not to beat so loudly on my own

bent over the bed, I knew the cold
chill of a winter morning when the sun
showed so bright, the lakes melted into sweat and
the arctic died. For you and for your desire,
the world transformed, beached whales and empty bottles

bent over the bed, I would have jammed my life into you
had I known you wanted so long, to be dismembered
by the past, to lose every grain for the dream of a beach,
my hands disappeared for his organ in your blanket. I know
the grains, I hold them, I love them, I breathe.

Prostrate on the sand, I waved goodbye with the winding
wind and you didn’t notice, carelessly tracing the shape
of my lion shape with the knife you’d used to cut it out.
But my heart is no lion and your mind is no knife. We
were waves finding solace in the shore, but instead of forgetting,
falling limply into this moment, I remember the years.

art, supposedly

a song i been listenin to

sarah harmer -- lodestar

Out of the night, into the water,
We push the boat from shore.
Breaking the air in the stillness of the bay.

Intensity of stars reflected in the harbor,
Silently ignite.
The oar dips in to oil like water and we,
Are away.

Your hand won't write, not tonight,
But your mind may wander.
Into those deep lagoons that you know.

And your boat will go, by starlight alone.
"Da da da da da da da da"
You sang to the moon.
In the great black night with no lodestar,
In sight.

Out in the night, out on the water,
We pull the boat back to shore.
Breathing the air in the stillness of the bay.
Intensity of stars reflected in the water,
Silently ignite.
The oar dips in to oil like water and we,
Are away.
Under the moon,
In the great black night with no lodestar,
In sight.

And wait for it,
There are only two things now.
This great black night,
And the fire glow.
Listen, the darkness rings,
The darkness.
Listen, the darkness rings.
And wait for it,
There are only two of us now.
This great black night spooked out,
And this fire glow.
Listen, the darkess rings,
The darkness,
Listen, the darkness rings.
Take off your pains (face, things),
And listen, the darkness rings