Jesus Christ
Just finished watching the movie "The Deer Hunter". On so many levels, Holy Fucking Christ. Very intense, yet quiet, details subtle yet absolutely key. Made in 1978, set in the Vietnam era. Very much about Vietnam, human relationships, memory. I should also mention that Robert De Niro is hot beyond belief in this movie, seriously. Oh, really seriously. Christopher Walken is not surprisingly haunting beyond belief. Meryl Streep proves why she went on to become such an actor of note.
My internet was fucked up yesterday. So for what it's worth, here is what I would've posted last night, sure it's a little depressing, but I sit where I am. And I'm feeling better today besides. Anyway...
Feeling incredibly sad, closed and distant. Worry is like an encroaching plague of locusts, I hear the echoing hum and see waves of black undulating, pulsing towards their inevitable end. Small. I feel tiny in the face of this. Ineffectual, like my cramping, clawed hands earlier, wrestling with the knitting needles and finally abandoning the dog’s sweater like a sad flag. Not a permanent abandonment, but tonight, the symbolism strikes at me like a hammer and I am flooded with an ocean of thought, feeling, and become lost in a paralyzed thrum.
I think of how the Grandma from next door lost dexterity in her hands, having to give up her expertly honed crafts. Think too of my own grandmother now many years gone, how her gnarled arthritic hands were forced to stop performing their amazingly natural skills, how frustrating it must’ve been for them both to have the memory exist in the hands, but strangely to have nature deny the memory its satisfaction, completion, fruition. I do not compare myself to them truly, first of all they had both attained mastery of many textile arts. Second it was their age that impaired them, not some obscure disorder.
I am not old, yet, but sometimes I feel so. It’s not just my hands and muscular issues. Sometimes I just feel like I’m suffocating. Sometimes the world just looks and feels like a sad, dark movie, I sit watching, nodding in recognition and disbelief. No, that can’t happen. But of course it does. Fairly often.
Events of this past summer, events of this past weekend come to mind. Fear is the killer. Fear is the great magician. Fear will turn an injury into a blight, and send the unprepared to go wandering off some other cliff somewhere else. Pray that the sea below is kind. Then again, if you’re a zombie, does it matter?
My internet was fucked up yesterday. So for what it's worth, here is what I would've posted last night, sure it's a little depressing, but I sit where I am. And I'm feeling better today besides. Anyway...
Feeling incredibly sad, closed and distant. Worry is like an encroaching plague of locusts, I hear the echoing hum and see waves of black undulating, pulsing towards their inevitable end. Small. I feel tiny in the face of this. Ineffectual, like my cramping, clawed hands earlier, wrestling with the knitting needles and finally abandoning the dog’s sweater like a sad flag. Not a permanent abandonment, but tonight, the symbolism strikes at me like a hammer and I am flooded with an ocean of thought, feeling, and become lost in a paralyzed thrum.
I think of how the Grandma from next door lost dexterity in her hands, having to give up her expertly honed crafts. Think too of my own grandmother now many years gone, how her gnarled arthritic hands were forced to stop performing their amazingly natural skills, how frustrating it must’ve been for them both to have the memory exist in the hands, but strangely to have nature deny the memory its satisfaction, completion, fruition. I do not compare myself to them truly, first of all they had both attained mastery of many textile arts. Second it was their age that impaired them, not some obscure disorder.
I am not old, yet, but sometimes I feel so. It’s not just my hands and muscular issues. Sometimes I just feel like I’m suffocating. Sometimes the world just looks and feels like a sad, dark movie, I sit watching, nodding in recognition and disbelief. No, that can’t happen. But of course it does. Fairly often.
Events of this past summer, events of this past weekend come to mind. Fear is the killer. Fear is the great magician. Fear will turn an injury into a blight, and send the unprepared to go wandering off some other cliff somewhere else. Pray that the sea below is kind. Then again, if you’re a zombie, does it matter?
posted by Black Egg at 9:36 PM
2 Comments:
Lionesses are hunting on tv.I can almost feel the heat,almost smell the hot blood.I don't know if I want to watch any more of it.What if one of them turns her head and looks directly at me then begins moving towards the screen.
It'd be like that Ray Bradbury story(can't recall the title) or like the movie The Ring,but I'm not gonna tell u about that cuz you may not have seen it yet.
So,r u kinda ok now,tonight?(this being Fri. night).I'm here-a phone call away.Not a block away or a mile away but still...don't be shy
I'm doin' somewhat better, thanx for asking. I've created a bit of chaos in my life over the past few months, between quitting my job, moving twice etc. but things are starting to feel like they're leveling off, just a little bit. I needed the disruption! So it's ok, but there aren't too many shortcuts. Yes, I've seen The Ring, also Ringu, the Japanese version. Both very good! I saw a preview for a Ring-type movie tonight, I think it was called The Host? All that nervousy, jumpy camera work - creepy!
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