(no subject)
so many things swimming around in my mind these last twenty-four hours or so. I am almost overwhelmed at this task of documenting them (here, and on paper)..
there's the thought I've been having about enjoying a film (or television program, for that matter) simply because I enjoy the soundtrack. something about respecting the creative team for any element of perfection or on-pointedness.take Any Given Sunday, for instance.. I never would have thought that a movie glorifying American football could help me to fully realize all of Moby's implications in Everloving, and I think it was that exact sequence that triggered my love for the film. and there are countless others that fall into the same category. any film makers that utilize a Radiohead song in their storytelling gets the immediate open mind. it's almost comical how my taste in music directly relates to so many things that I love to distract me.
and there's this idea I've been having over the last couple of days about love.. I had this strange conversation about Mr. Guy From the Past Who Won't Depart From the Confines of My Mind the other day (and I almost went straight here to LJ to excrete the thoughts and emotions onto screen and into ones and zeroes, but for the sake of all parties involved, I ultimately decided against it). I continued it last night (with another brilliant lady opposite me) and I don't know.. I came to this conclusion that along with the unconditional acceptance and atomic explosion of chemicals reacting that encompass me, I think love comes from a place that is unique to each individual I feel this way toward. I think it's how I am able to forgive my parents time and time again (and they, me). I can't get a creator-createe relationship anywhere else. and it's forever. I think in order for me to love somebody, I have to get something from them that I can't get anywhere else. they have to add something to my existence (or essence. or "soul"). they can't just enjoy it (though, that is okay, too). it's just not love.
I don't know. I've been reading a lot of poetry lately (not feeling poetic, sadly). I just want to read every poem that affects me outloud to the world and scream to the masses, "I KNOW THE TRUTH." but I know how futile the expenditure of that energy would be. so I silently write here that we are the truth.. hope you understand what this means.
and leave it at that.
there's the thought I've been having about enjoying a film (or television program, for that matter) simply because I enjoy the soundtrack. something about respecting the creative team for any element of perfection or on-pointedness.take Any Given Sunday, for instance.. I never would have thought that a movie glorifying American football could help me to fully realize all of Moby's implications in Everloving, and I think it was that exact sequence that triggered my love for the film. and there are countless others that fall into the same category. any film makers that utilize a Radiohead song in their storytelling gets the immediate open mind. it's almost comical how my taste in music directly relates to so many things that I love to distract me.
and there's this idea I've been having over the last couple of days about love.. I had this strange conversation about Mr. Guy From the Past Who Won't Depart From the Confines of My Mind the other day (and I almost went straight here to LJ to excrete the thoughts and emotions onto screen and into ones and zeroes, but for the sake of all parties involved, I ultimately decided against it). I continued it last night (with another brilliant lady opposite me) and I don't know.. I came to this conclusion that along with the unconditional acceptance and atomic explosion of chemicals reacting that encompass me, I think love comes from a place that is unique to each individual I feel this way toward. I think it's how I am able to forgive my parents time and time again (and they, me). I can't get a creator-createe relationship anywhere else. and it's forever. I think in order for me to love somebody, I have to get something from them that I can't get anywhere else. they have to add something to my existence (or essence. or "soul"). they can't just enjoy it (though, that is okay, too). it's just not love.
I don't know. I've been reading a lot of poetry lately (not feeling poetic, sadly). I just want to read every poem that affects me outloud to the world and scream to the masses, "I KNOW THE TRUTH." but I know how futile the expenditure of that energy would be. so I silently write here that we are the truth.. hope you understand what this means.
and leave it at that.