This is a completely insignificant scene, but Jensen makes it well-worth watching and that showcases what a dedicated actor he is.
First there’s the curious look around the apartment, never mind that a hot chick is right in front of him, which is so utterly Dean. After all, he’s the most observant character on the show. If there’s a secret passage somewhere, Dean’s usually the one who spots it. And his ability to remember random little details like what kind of flowers someone had is remarkable. Moreover, this is something he’s been taught to do all his life - check first if there’s a potential threat lurking somewhere, look for potential emergency exists or objects that can be used as a weapon etc. And Jensen always makes it look so instinctive.
Then Dean remembers his earlier conversation with Sam (’We don’t know if she’s hot’) and gives the nanny a pleased once-over, deciding that she’s definitely hot. He has a short big-brotherly moment of ‘Sam’s going to be so jealous that I got to talk to her’ glee. When he sees that she noticed him checking her out, he then gives her a lovely flirty smile, as though to say, ‘I like what I see. What about you? You like me too?’ Only to then recall, ‘Oh, wait, I’m supposed to be a super serious FBI agent. Better put on my best concentrated look.’
And all of that happens in just three seconds. Kudos!
I mean, I’m used to ups and downs, and the last few years it’s been steep curves, to say the least.
But I feel less and less part of the world. Not just metaphorically. Literally. The world around me feels surreal and I know it’s my derealization getting worse because of my anxiety and ocd and depression getting worse... I know, but that doesn’t stop it from being scary as fuck when it’s this intense.
But the derealization isn’t just worse in it’s intensity anymore. It feels like it is literally scooping me away from this plane of existence, little by little.
I feel detached from the world around me, the people around me, reality. Like I am literally fading.
And it’s begun affecting The Fear. I can feel it.
Where it used to be more of a metaphorical rope, I feel like it’s now more... metaphorical pantyhose?
Like...
Once you’ve gotten a tear in pantyhose, there is no fixing them. It’s gonna keep tearing, if you keep wearing them - and I have no choice but to keep wearing them. There is no other option because they’re just part of me. I can’t change them out for a new pair (how I wish I could) and there is no fixing the damage done. And so the tear will keep on spreading, faster, because I am wearing them constantly.
The tear in The Fear now is beyond damage control. Which means if I keep doing as badly as I have lately, it’ll tear quicker and quicker and soon there won’t be much left.
Certainly no resistance.
Certainly nothing holding me back from ending my miserable existence.
And the thought of that, of maybe finally being able to get out from under The Fear and kill myself... it both terrifies me and is such a huge hope and relief for me.
I’m so tired.
And I’m so scared.
And I’m so ready to hopefully just cease to exist.
So, you boys really wanna know about this Colt? It’s just a story, a legend really. Well I thought it was. Back in 1835, when Halley’s comet was overhead, the same night those men died at the Alamo. They say Samuel Colt made a gun. A special gun. He made it for a hunter, a man like us only on horseback. Story goes he made thirteen bullets, and this hunter used the gun a half dozen times before he disappeared, the gun along with him. And somehow Daniel got his hands on it. They say… they say this gun can kill anything.
I just love bad guys. Crowley specially. (I’ve started to watch Supernatural recently… And.. This guy.. Good lord, his voice… And every face, what he makes…)
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