Just thinkin' Again
Are there any movies that you really really love, but you don't want to watch them because they cause you to feel a certain way? I have used two quotes from The Hours today, and I really want to sit down and watch it, because I just adore the film. The only thing is, I know if I watch it, I will get depressed. It's weird that a movie can do that to me. I love moments in the film, thoughtful rantings from the characters, life lessons learned through them, and even just watching them develope on screen. I'm probably the only one that enjoys the film that much, but I'm sure each person has their own. Another, more recent film that does this for me is Brokeback Mountain (of course), which I have loaned out to a couple of people now. I know that it is just a story like many other stories told before, but it just hits closer to home for me somehow. It's not even so much the gay issue, which strikes me as odd at times that it isn't. For me, it could be a straight couple fighting for the same thing, but it's more of the families and how each one deals with the situation that gets to me. There are so many levels of acceptance, denial, love, hate, and indecision involved. They are so simple, yet there are complexities that can only be suggested, yet not explained outright. Humans, oh how simple, yet made so complex by our own nature.
I have thought at times that I really am an odd person. Seriously, some people read books, and read as many as they can, because they love books. I can take one book, and read it over the span of a month or even a couple of months if it's good enough, only because I am captivated by the story. A part of me gets lost in the story while I'm reading it, and I don't want it to be over too soon. Most people would just read and get it over with, and then read the book again if they loved it so much. I, for reasons I can not explain, can not reread a book. Once I have grown attached to the story and taken what I can from it, it's as if the book dies to me. You say your goodbyes and lay it to rest. You remember the moments that made you feel certain emotions. Take away a message from it, if it gives you one. It is almost as if it's a friend or family member that passes away. That is an extreme way of putting it, but I can't explain it any other way. Strange as it is.
I think that's why it was so difficult for me in theatre classes to do certain things with plays, because it's really hard for me to reread them. I may love one, and try to reread it, and not like it as much because I didn't get the same message from it. As if the memories are replaced, and I killed them with other memories. On the same token though, I did like to discuss them. I remember Studies in Dramatic Literature. I loved talking about the plays, because you got different views, and feelings from different people. You may love one and 10 others hate it, but it is because you all got something different out of it. I know that playwrights usually have one major theme, or lesson that they want to get across, but even once that one main theme is realized, there are so many other oppertunities for applying different views, from different angles to the work. Rather than read the plays over and over, I think I could watch one that is directed by different directors and see what one person wanted to get across in their production verses someone else's viewpoint of the same show.
Yeah, it's just me rambling again. Some thoughts that were floating around in my mind today.
Love and War, two very different things, yet such a fine line between them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waiting
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kisses, sweeter than honey, touched these lips long ago. Now, as the years pass by, the sweetness has gone bitter. Long after the kisses that could set souls on fire with a burning passion, these lips grow cold as ice. With every passing moment they grow colder still.
Love lost in wars of an angry past. A promise never meant to be broken, remains true in a virtuous heart. Long after the loss of a love so strong that it could cause time to stand still, these lips remain frozen. Lost in a time that only memory can serve to understand.
These lips yearn for those kisses, those moments, that love everlasting. Waiting. One day to return again to the sweetness of honey.
I have thought at times that I really am an odd person. Seriously, some people read books, and read as many as they can, because they love books. I can take one book, and read it over the span of a month or even a couple of months if it's good enough, only because I am captivated by the story. A part of me gets lost in the story while I'm reading it, and I don't want it to be over too soon. Most people would just read and get it over with, and then read the book again if they loved it so much. I, for reasons I can not explain, can not reread a book. Once I have grown attached to the story and taken what I can from it, it's as if the book dies to me. You say your goodbyes and lay it to rest. You remember the moments that made you feel certain emotions. Take away a message from it, if it gives you one. It is almost as if it's a friend or family member that passes away. That is an extreme way of putting it, but I can't explain it any other way. Strange as it is.
I think that's why it was so difficult for me in theatre classes to do certain things with plays, because it's really hard for me to reread them. I may love one, and try to reread it, and not like it as much because I didn't get the same message from it. As if the memories are replaced, and I killed them with other memories. On the same token though, I did like to discuss them. I remember Studies in Dramatic Literature. I loved talking about the plays, because you got different views, and feelings from different people. You may love one and 10 others hate it, but it is because you all got something different out of it. I know that playwrights usually have one major theme, or lesson that they want to get across, but even once that one main theme is realized, there are so many other oppertunities for applying different views, from different angles to the work. Rather than read the plays over and over, I think I could watch one that is directed by different directors and see what one person wanted to get across in their production verses someone else's viewpoint of the same show.
Yeah, it's just me rambling again. Some thoughts that were floating around in my mind today.
Love and War, two very different things, yet such a fine line between them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Waiting
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kisses, sweeter than honey, touched these lips long ago. Now, as the years pass by, the sweetness has gone bitter. Long after the kisses that could set souls on fire with a burning passion, these lips grow cold as ice. With every passing moment they grow colder still.
Love lost in wars of an angry past. A promise never meant to be broken, remains true in a virtuous heart. Long after the loss of a love so strong that it could cause time to stand still, these lips remain frozen. Lost in a time that only memory can serve to understand.
These lips yearn for those kisses, those moments, that love everlasting. Waiting. One day to return again to the sweetness of honey.