Glaciers and Sea Level Rise - This ice cave in Belcher Glacier (Devon Island, Canada) was formed by melt water flowing within the glacier ice.
© NASA Goddard Space Flight Center
Dazed and Confused (1993) [behind the scenes]
There’s a dark side of myself that a fifteen year old me, young and optimistic ready to leap into the joie de vivre this psychotic life has to offer, would vomit at the sight of. To think that some women glorify this utmost monstrosity – as if being a cruel and merciless being is something to be lusted after or aspired to – would have made that young girl’s skin crawl and her stomach turn in vertiginous circles. I prefer the classic term “bitch,” because if I’m ever being honest with myself, being crass, jaded, and truly unhinged is nothing shy of the life of a free spirited canine, in love with anyone who has something to offer, but willing to sink its teeth into the nearest vulnerable bystander that dares to cross its path. Like a wild animal, though domesticated and bred to be gentle and serene, succumbing to the smallest of irritations at any given moment.
I’m not always ready for the tangy mist of vinegar and tap water to scratch against my fur though. See, an eighteen year old me, bold and defiant, has little to no problem at all performing an operatic aria of twisted truths and fragmented memories, but the booing crowd could easily make me crumble to ash like the tallest tower in my self-centered little utopia. I can dish it out, but I cannot take it.
Mindfulness is obsolete when the black fog rolls before my irises, clouding my judgment and perspective of the flaming nonsense dripping off of my tongue. By the time I’ve realized what I’ve done, it is always far too late and apologies are greatly overdue. But in the back of my mind, I see myself as a natural disaster. Would a tornado ever apologize for destroying an abandoned trailer park, leaving a cluttered and disorderly trail of debris, plastic lawn chairs, and old radios behind as souvenirs? Would a volcano retract its own flow of white-hot lava and spare the lives of innocent natives and decadent palm trees?
I’m a big fan of the blame game. And perhaps, like natural disasters, the calm after an unforgivable storm is merely due to the fact that there is no one left to blame but myself.
It’s Gia (1998) with Angelina Jolie!