Fuck you Lost
June 01, 2008 · Filed under: Personal.
I was watching some episodes of season two of Lost today and can I just say this show is in.sane. There are so many theories, deaths, conflicts, sad flashbacks, romance, weird findings, a creepy priest, and yes, a few hotties, but the entire time I’m thinking: jesusgod, I am so glad to be on dry, safe, land with (mostly) sane people. I don’t know what I’d do if a plane crashed and I was stranded with strangers.
For one, I have an issue with privacy and having my own personal space, and something tells me a couple of leaves and trees won’t do, much less four sticks and a bed sheet. Oh and the fact there are about 40 other people living mere inches from me.
Two, I’d need a few things that I’m sure the island wouldn’t give me (all the island seems to give is hallucinations, headaches, and tears, so no thank you): my best friend, sunflower seeds, pizza rolls, and my sweet sweet internets. You take those away and I ask you: What is the point in living?
Then there’s also the issue of well, I don’t know anything about these people (the personal stories Lost loves to give us via flashbacks is a perfect example). That person next to me on the plane could very likely have be a sociopath, wife beater, religious fantatic, or drug dealer. How would I know for sure these people wouldn’t gut me and feast on my flesh if the need arose? I’d want to know everything about everyone I was staying with and then I’d watch my back just in case one of them wanted to get freaky and you can sit there and shake your head wondering what the hell I’m smoking but goddammit you can’t blame me!
After each episode (but especially during the entire climax of the season two finale) I debated whether I wanted them to be found or whether I just wanted them all to finally explode in one big nuclear blast so the show would just finish already. Because really, I can’t take much more of this torture, not knowing anything about The Others (psychos), getting a girlboner every time I think about a Sawyer/Jack sandwich, and worrying about who’s going to die next in a shocking turn of events. And don’t tell me there won’t be another surprising death because hello, this is Lost, and as such they have to keep giving us a few mindfucks per episode to keep us guessing.
I hate you.