Brokeback
Last night Jen and I went to see Brokeback Mountain. We were one of 5 there, after reports from everyone saying how packed it had been the last week. Unlike every other queer and/or openminded person in America, I wasn't exactly overly excited about going to see it. My fear was that the men were going to be portrayed as homewrecks of the married lives they chose to lead. But after a discussion with my mentor, I was convinced to give it a go. Gay cowboys here we come...
It was incredible. The universal emotions were so familiar and close. I knew them. The movie is still dwelling in me, and I'm thinking about it constantly. Not so much of the scenes or the characters, but more of the feeling that it left me with. That awareness, the prying open of the buffers between us and our world. It was painful to watch, yet afterwards I just wanted to sit there, on the verge of crying, heaving breaths of tears. I wanted to remember and analyze it. I wrote last night afterwards, and it still didn't give me justice or peace or balance. So I'm toting it around with me. I haven't figured out what to do with it yet. There's a need to place it in a compartment, slide it onto a self and be done with it. But I'd rather not. I'd rather pace back and forth with that emotion holding it in my sensitive palms, saying "thank you."
It was incredible. The universal emotions were so familiar and close. I knew them. The movie is still dwelling in me, and I'm thinking about it constantly. Not so much of the scenes or the characters, but more of the feeling that it left me with. That awareness, the prying open of the buffers between us and our world. It was painful to watch, yet afterwards I just wanted to sit there, on the verge of crying, heaving breaths of tears. I wanted to remember and analyze it. I wrote last night afterwards, and it still didn't give me justice or peace or balance. So I'm toting it around with me. I haven't figured out what to do with it yet. There's a need to place it in a compartment, slide it onto a self and be done with it. But I'd rather not. I'd rather pace back and forth with that emotion holding it in my sensitive palms, saying "thank you."