Weirdest thing happened today.
Ever read a book thinking you know the story? Like, you read Romeo and Juliet, and you know they're going to die?
Well, this time around I was reading 'Streetcar Named Desire' and I went through the entire thing absolutely CERTAIN about what would happen next. But no. The ending comes and goes, there's a brutal rape, and I'm left there all 'WHEN DID THE GUY GET RUN OVER?'
I mean, you write a play about a streetcar, you've GOT to have it hit someone. I was actually looking forwards to it. I thought it would be Stanley. And it was like 'yay' because the guy's a total bastard and deserved it.
It would have been nice, you know? Poetically just. The car that brought Blanche into his life sends him out of it. He kinda had it coming.
*sigh*
Dissappointing as fuck.
