Crying yourself to sleep
You cry because of what’s upsetting you
You cry because you shouldn’t be upset
You cry because you can’t make up your mind
You’re fighting with yourself
It’s a merciless battle that can only end in someone or something dying
You cry some more
You fight for breath
You wonder why you care so much
Why you let trivial things dictate your life
You cry
You sob
Your nose runs
You drool
Not a pretty picture
But you must be pretty; there is an intense desire to make it so. You grab anything you can to mop up the mess, but the water keeps coming.
It can’t be stopped.
All you wish is that someday, somehow, you could stop caring, stop crying...
Then you wake up, and for once, what you wanted actually happened.
Your face is finally dry and so is everything else: your pillow, the tissue paper scattered around you and your heart.
You don’t care about trivial things, you really don’t care about anything; there is just this amazing sense of numb.
Your new hope is that you will never have to feel like that again. Never have to feel like nothing. Because you can’t live when you do.
It is said that “life is not measured by he number of breathes we take, but by the number of moments that take your breathe away,” so when one is numb to their surroundings, they cannot be alive, for how can one experience awe, of their heart is calloused and they have developed a leprosy of the spirit.
They live
He looks
She sees
He speaks
They order
They eat
He pays
He speaks
She speaks
They listen
He proposes
She accepts
They hold
They gather
They have
They hold
They live
They love
They hold
He kisses
She scratches
They hold
She tests
She grows
They hold
They prepare
They plan
They hold
She winces
She breathes
He holds
She screams
She breathes
He holds
She pushes
She breathes
He holds
She delivers
She breathes
He holds
he cries
he breathes
They hold
he eats
he breathes
They hold
he sleeps
he poops
They hold
he grows
he crawls
They hold
he falls
he hurts
They hold
he walks
he runs
They hold
he rides
he drives
They hold
he grows
He leaves
They hold
Movies
Movies exist in a world apart with rules that are different from ours.
To enjoy truly enjoy a film, you must first forget your reality, forget what you believe. Only then can you fill your mind with the reality of the film and the beliefs of the characters.
You cannot hold Star Wars to physics from the here and now. It happened a long time ago...far far away.
Why then would you expect a film made in the thirties to have modern sensibilities?
Perhaps I'm starting in the middle.
When I watched 1939's "The Women" for the first time I laughed and giggled at the wit. I gloated when the worst of the women were overthrown. I cheered when the heroine threw away her pride to get back the man she loved.
I didn't think about what I would do if I was in the situation. I didn't think about how life was today or my reality. Women staying in abusive relationships because they were married and they gave back as much as they got was ok in their reality. The other woman was nicer than the wife so good job going to Reno... the only place to get a divorce.
After watching it and watching it with others I began to realize how odd my ability to suspend my disbelief of a reality so unlike my own was.
"How could any self respecting person of the modern age accept what happened?" "How could you be happy she went back to her cheating husband?" "How could you not notice there was not one man in the entire movie?"
Odd as it may be, I feel all movies are fantasies. Women not having rights or only being able to support themselves is just as fantastical as light sabers and millennium falcons existing. My question for those that question me is:
If you can suspend your disbelief and enjoy a film with siblings kissing and fathers chopping off their sons hands, why is it so hard to accept a reality that truly existed before your time?
Silence
Background noise is ever present
Loud, annoying and mostly unpleasant
Why won't it ever fade away
Let only the silence stay
The music and talking finally quiet
But then your thoughts start to riot
Why won't the world just hush
Why must all the noises rush
Into your ear into your head
Why can't they see the tears you shed
Why can't they leave you alone
Why can't it all be still as stone
Perhaps it's as I fear
Perhaps I shall be doomed to hear
The background noises in my head
Silence: given only to the dead