...and catch all the DW-references!

An ood. Sorry, ode. Sorry, dedication. A very...dedicated dedication. To a man who could certainly have said it better himself. But I'll try my best at saying what it means to me, personally, and how fascination never ends.

I love a Doctor who won't wear his labcoat because he says "it itches!", who "don't like anyone", who toys around with a yoyo while patients are dying, wears trainers with blazers and neckties with jeans, whose sentimentality is non-existent, who hardly ever smiles, but when he does is even more adorable, who is passionate only about what interests him at times when it probably doesn't interest anybody else, who makes himself inaccessible when desperately needed, who watches pathetic soaps on TV, and sometimes screws up, yet allowing no-one to meddle with his pride, whose confidence is rarely shaken - and who never stops shining, although impregnable as rocks; who listens to understand, not just to be polite; who is brute, rude, and brilliant and not afraid to say so; who is sarcastically clever; who is spectacularly superficial, yet always digs deeper; who walks with a cane, without it holding him back; who doesn't let anyone come close, literally shakes people off, but almost always keeps his cool and remains in control, when everyone else would be fainting; who breaks off, never down; reluctant but rendering; who doesn't appear to let anything get to him, but still; whose wide, blue-eyed gaze never lies; who is soft, almost tender, then sad 'cause it happened, then closed 'cause it won't ever happen again; who watches the rain, melancholy, then hard-faced; who speaks when he mustn't and jokes when he shouldn't and says nothing when all it would take is one word; whose pose is characteristic, but never a cliché, who's style is legendaric but never a let-off; who plays, while he ponders, and dreams while he doctors. Gregory House. Who'd have thought. That's my man. I've fallen in love with a Doctor again.

**
Wish I could say the following was inspired strictly by the above-mentioned, and it surely could be, it surely looks like something reminiscent of his maneouvers, but it wasn't, not solely, it was a mix - bit of him, bit of this, bit of that, bit of Leonard Cohen (as usual) and just a bit of...me. My head. Is killing me. It's this thingy I started working on which ended up completely different (often do) and I have no idea how it may continue. For now:

"must be read/out loud" - I was wondering.
By Scaramouche, the po(t)et, barely forgotten (how to).

like; who do we hail
when there's nobody left
for torture and punish
or sentence to love

and where do we sail
when the oceans have dried
left waters of salt,
only, running down skins

in streams and in drops
and stinging as bloods
we may swim through the surface
they'll engulf us as floods

the soldiers up front
form the lines to the east
the west soon uncovered
who knows, all can't be pleased

the backbenchers, quiet,
are rows never heard
they dance without movements
feels free as a bird

the fronting material
shiny white teeth, work
may the drool make them drivel
while watching our feet, hurt

yet where do we look
when the turning once stops
and where do we peak
when there are no more tops

**
Plus, it got me thinking. About things. Thingies that I don't wanna share with the world. Much like Gregory House. His methods, brushing off, barring out. And his weaker points. Such I want to keep quieted down and hidden well away from nosey parkers. Peekers. Peekey-sneakey. Professional voyeurs, as sinister as The Sun's reporters. I just don't feel like it. Somehow, sometimes, there's little point. Or even less. Sometimes, you simply want to watch the cars drive by and imagine you could go with them. Away. Gone with the wind, and a smile; a last one. Massive conclusions. To end; before the first day in the rest of your life. Saying it was completed so it could be incomplete once again. Fresh. I thought everything was going to be different. One great, big bowl of change. And it was. I was wrong. Put on my specs and view the world and find the faintest odds.