Next chapter, no comment, no own. Go see "Willard," it's the best movie ever. Song is to the tune of Addicted to Love, or Addicted to Spuds if you're a Weird Al fan.
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The soft, blapping sound of her cousin's quiet snores came from the next room. It was annoying, but it wasn't what was keeping Mel awake. Her eyes half-closed, try as she might she couldn't keep the scenes from replaying in her mind. The voices she had heard earlier that day recited lines, phantom faces drifted across her mental field of vision. Trying to stop these images was futile, and allowing them to wash over her was oh-so-pleasurable. Like a psychic balm, sedating her and filling her with a quiet kind of ecstasy. This was what he had once imagined being in love was like.
The show comes on, run to your room,
Prepare for wondrous doom,
Your nose hurts, pressed to the screen,
And in your eyes, an ominous gleam...
She knew this wasn't normal. She was afraid and angry at herself, but when she pictured Zim's face in her mind, the negative emotions melted away. A peaceful smile crawled up her face, but she set her teeth and halted it. She forced her thoughts elsewhere, and redirecting them was no easy task. She counted to ten, then backwards from ten. She mentally recited a poem she had memorized for school. But she couldn't banish her frightening thoughts. Her eyes grew hot. She didn't want this...
Thinking about these things made it hard for her to lie still. She got out of bed and paced. It wasn't easy trying to change her mind in the hotel room, where even the bed she had just lain in was plastered with a large [Z?]. Walking over to the balcony, she let the cooling air tickle her skin, her blood singing through her veins at an incredible pace. "Oh yeah..." she whispered, letting out a nervous giggle when she realized her voice had the same inflections Zim's had in the day's episode.
You can't sleep, you can't eat,
With each quote, you're in deep,
When your show's on, you just stare,
And in your eyes, an eire glare...
She didn't want this! She didn't want her life to be taken over by this thing, this obsession which threatened to consume her. She had to ignore it, had to let it pass. Had to find some way to push this out of her mind. But the crisp voices, the candy colors, the sweeping motion and fantastic dialogue. Everything about the show remained, persistently in her mind. Somewhere.
Your chances of hiding your passion are slim,
Soon you will have to admit that you love him,
You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to Zim
She shook her head, as if to clear away invisible strands of gossamer thought. Turning back to her luggage, she sifted through the folds of soft clothing until she pulled out a book she had brought along, something about horses. After just seconds of letting her eyes roll over the words, she knew she would never really read it. It just didn't seem entertaining anymore. It was almost bizarre, just a few days ago she had been incredibly interested in that story, but as a form of entertainment it suddenly paled in her eyes when compared to what she had seen that day.
See other shows, but think they're dumb,
You're dancing to a different drum,
You cannot help but look,
Another minute, you'll be hooked, an open book...
She spun on one heel. It was kind of exciting, the idea of becoming a fan. Everyone she had seen at the convention seemed so happy, so overjoyed by something as simple as a new design on a t-shirt, or a good piece of fanart. She wondered what it would be like to feel so reckless, so free. To be able to shout nonsense and sing ridiculous songs in public without turning red. She thought about living vicariously through the surreal adventures of these fantastic characters, and living quite naturally in her own life as well. More than naturally, living *intensely* in a wonderful world she had never seen before.
It's the Doom Song,
And so of course you sing along,
Swear to conquer Earth,
Just don't disrupt your mirth...
What would her mother say? Would she have to hide it from her? Could she hide it from her? Could she hide it from anyone? It didn't seem to matter. Everything felt cool and natural, and she swayed as if dancing to some alien song heard only by a few, and listened to by fewer. Everything would be okay as long as she had this feeling with her. And along with it came so much more, she wanted to express her obsession through pictures and words. She wanted to plaster her room with screenshots and quotes. She wanted to giggle and rehash all her favorite bits, and make wild, ridiculous stories about them. She could never hide this feeling.
Your chances of hiding your passion are slim,
Soon you will have to admit that you love him,
You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to Zim
Slowly, she turned and walked over to her cousin's bedroom. The soft purple carpet seemed to caress her feet, welcoming her.
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim,
Her cousin lay prone and asleep. Mel shook her shoulder and she stirred.
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim,
"Mmm..." CryingChild said, waking. "Mel? What is it? Are you okay?"
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim,
"Sarah?"
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim,
"Yes?"
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim...
"I want to sing the Doom Song now."
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BOO-yah! And another innocent soul falls victim to the forces of fandom!
-------------------------------------------------------
The soft, blapping sound of her cousin's quiet snores came from the next room. It was annoying, but it wasn't what was keeping Mel awake. Her eyes half-closed, try as she might she couldn't keep the scenes from replaying in her mind. The voices she had heard earlier that day recited lines, phantom faces drifted across her mental field of vision. Trying to stop these images was futile, and allowing them to wash over her was oh-so-pleasurable. Like a psychic balm, sedating her and filling her with a quiet kind of ecstasy. This was what he had once imagined being in love was like.
The show comes on, run to your room,
Prepare for wondrous doom,
Your nose hurts, pressed to the screen,
And in your eyes, an ominous gleam...
She knew this wasn't normal. She was afraid and angry at herself, but when she pictured Zim's face in her mind, the negative emotions melted away. A peaceful smile crawled up her face, but she set her teeth and halted it. She forced her thoughts elsewhere, and redirecting them was no easy task. She counted to ten, then backwards from ten. She mentally recited a poem she had memorized for school. But she couldn't banish her frightening thoughts. Her eyes grew hot. She didn't want this...
Thinking about these things made it hard for her to lie still. She got out of bed and paced. It wasn't easy trying to change her mind in the hotel room, where even the bed she had just lain in was plastered with a large [Z?]. Walking over to the balcony, she let the cooling air tickle her skin, her blood singing through her veins at an incredible pace. "Oh yeah..." she whispered, letting out a nervous giggle when she realized her voice had the same inflections Zim's had in the day's episode.
You can't sleep, you can't eat,
With each quote, you're in deep,
When your show's on, you just stare,
And in your eyes, an eire glare...
She didn't want this! She didn't want her life to be taken over by this thing, this obsession which threatened to consume her. She had to ignore it, had to let it pass. Had to find some way to push this out of her mind. But the crisp voices, the candy colors, the sweeping motion and fantastic dialogue. Everything about the show remained, persistently in her mind. Somewhere.
Your chances of hiding your passion are slim,
Soon you will have to admit that you love him,
You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to Zim
She shook her head, as if to clear away invisible strands of gossamer thought. Turning back to her luggage, she sifted through the folds of soft clothing until she pulled out a book she had brought along, something about horses. After just seconds of letting her eyes roll over the words, she knew she would never really read it. It just didn't seem entertaining anymore. It was almost bizarre, just a few days ago she had been incredibly interested in that story, but as a form of entertainment it suddenly paled in her eyes when compared to what she had seen that day.
See other shows, but think they're dumb,
You're dancing to a different drum,
You cannot help but look,
Another minute, you'll be hooked, an open book...
She spun on one heel. It was kind of exciting, the idea of becoming a fan. Everyone she had seen at the convention seemed so happy, so overjoyed by something as simple as a new design on a t-shirt, or a good piece of fanart. She wondered what it would be like to feel so reckless, so free. To be able to shout nonsense and sing ridiculous songs in public without turning red. She thought about living vicariously through the surreal adventures of these fantastic characters, and living quite naturally in her own life as well. More than naturally, living *intensely* in a wonderful world she had never seen before.
It's the Doom Song,
And so of course you sing along,
Swear to conquer Earth,
Just don't disrupt your mirth...
What would her mother say? Would she have to hide it from her? Could she hide it from her? Could she hide it from anyone? It didn't seem to matter. Everything felt cool and natural, and she swayed as if dancing to some alien song heard only by a few, and listened to by fewer. Everything would be okay as long as she had this feeling with her. And along with it came so much more, she wanted to express her obsession through pictures and words. She wanted to plaster her room with screenshots and quotes. She wanted to giggle and rehash all her favorite bits, and make wild, ridiculous stories about them. She could never hide this feeling.
Your chances of hiding your passion are slim,
Soon you will have to admit that you love him,
You know you're gonna have to face it, you're addicted to Zim
Slowly, she turned and walked over to her cousin's bedroom. The soft purple carpet seemed to caress her feet, welcoming her.
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim,
Her cousin lay prone and asleep. Mel shook her shoulder and she stirred.
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim,
"Mmm..." CryingChild said, waking. "Mel? What is it? Are you okay?"
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim,
"Sarah?"
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim,
"Yes?"
Might as well face it, you're addicted to Zim...
"I want to sing the Doom Song now."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
BOO-yah! And another innocent soul falls victim to the forces of fandom!