Thursday, 28 March 2019

a little less to give each time we fall

March 28, 2019 0 Comments
A film sequence from Blue is the Warmest Colour, dir. Abdellatif Kechiche, 2013
When you looked me in the eyes all perplexed and puzzled, half engaged and enthused, you looked at me as if time could stop at any minute. And that if it were to slowly escape from the palm of our hands we'd spend the rest of our lives gazing at each other absorbing every inch of beauty and pain, love and loss, all the wisdom and misery we had built into each other back into the heavens to be forgotten. Back into the heavens to be saved from our sense of humanity, and back into the heavens to be protected from the realism that had dragged us down into the dust and mud. Down into some form of unrequited love masked as a friendship.

When you looked me in the eyes as a last resort, I loved you too much to even bother. I loved you too much to even care. I loved you too much that if losing myself in you meant indulging in the lunacy of fleeting emotions, I would have been willing to break apart the world just to feel a second of your love. And I would trap that single second of love to replay at the back of my heart and mind, and hold it there forever. Hold it there to preserve an infinite tenderness that I will always have for you. An infinite tenderness that defines how we all have a little less to give each time we fall. How we all have a little less to say each time we allow ourselves to love for another body and soul.

Sunday, 17 March 2019

second thoughts and final words

March 17, 2019 0 Comments
A film sequence from Buffalo 66, dir. Vincent Gallo, 1998
I wanted you to kiss me more. I wanted you to know that, but I never told you. I wanted you to take it a step further and to let me feel things that I had never felt before. Cold and unemotional, I wanted you so badly but I was too afraid to give it to you. I know that's the reason why you left me hanging dry and hopeless. I know that's the reason why you never bothered to reach out to me again a second time. I know that's the reason why you thought I was a waste of all those hours of your life. Too much to deal with for something you wanted so quickly. Too difficult, too silent, too unattainable. I know that's the reason why you thought me a paradoxical complication that you could never bother with a second time. A paradoxical complication that could have been simple and straight to the point if you had played your cards right.

(image found here)
I wish I could tell you not to worry so much when the truth was that there were no deeper thoughts in my heart and mind set in stone for you in the first place. That if you were scared I'd trap you into some numbing state of psychoanalytic vulnerability, that if I were to secure you into a numbing state of undesired responsibility... it would all be nonsensical fiction in your head. I wish I could tell you that there were no misunderstandings that could get in the way of the freedom that you crave - the occasional desire of thoughtless and romantic hedonism I sense you need and want so deeply. I wish I could tell you, but who am I to make you realize all these things when I myself am in a position of youthful uncertainty and naivete - a position of reactionary second thoughts that multiply by inevitable revelations I have been challenged to deal with these past few months on my own.
(image found here)
And come to think of it, I understood what you were trying to say to me. And come to think of it, maybe it's true that "sometimes you just need to get fucked" to get through a hard day. And come to think of it, maybe I never truly liked you enough anyway. And come to think of it, maybe it wasn't so wrong of me to refuse to give anything deeper than desire. Deeper than what you gave me. And what you gave me was nothing more but confusion laced into lust. And what you gave me was nothing more but a mind game to deal with from an imaginary distance. And what you gave me was another lesson to keep in heart and mind, that if you speak more than you listen, speak more than you do, that in the end "the rest is rust and stardust". You're something worth forgetting even if it's not what the heart and imagination asks for.