Le rayon vert / The Green Ray (Eric Rohmer, 1986)
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if i look back, i am lost
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@lesseninglessons
Le rayon vert / The Green Ray (Eric Rohmer, 1986)
I’ve always been someone who feels kind of impatient with life. Come on, let’s get to the good stuff, let’s go somewhere more exciting, let’s get to the people I’ll find exciting. Loneliness, I think, is in that sense just a form of impatience. You’re impatient to meet the next person you can have romantic feelings for. Or just impatient to spend time with good friends again. In that sense, the pandemic has tested our patience - and our capacity to tolerate loneliness - to the limit. I’d always looked for some way out of those feelings even before Covid. But never knew what that might be, this miraculous way out that I needed. I think I may be starting to understand, though. It’s simply the opposite. Patience. Cultivating one’s capacity for patience. That is the strange alchemy I need, to turn loneliness into something better. (I found some random old notes on my phone and decided to write them down here; this was one of them)
I don’t understand Englishness. I don’t understand why it should be a virtue to be indirect and unemotional.
There were lines in Whitman's poems that had always struck me as exaggerated in their enthusiasm, their unhinged eroticism; they embarrassed me a little (...) I realised I had always read them poorly, the lines I had failed to understand; they weren't exaggerated at all, they were exact, and for a moment I understood his desire to be naked before the world, his madness, as he says, to be in contact with it. I even felt something of that desire myself, though it was nothing like madness for me, in my life lived almost always beneath the pitch of poetry, a life of inhibition and missed chances, perhaps, but also a bearable life, a life that to some extent I had chosen and continued to choose.
Garth Greenwell, What Belongs To You
Should’ve seen the cracks in the ceiling and the mirror covered up with dust But I was busy talking on the phone Should’ve seen the obstacles but I said this house was built for us Hello? Is anybody home?
Heartwarming
Light Sleeper (Paul Schrader, 1992)
Penda’s Fen (1974)
Certified Copy (2010)
A haiku
Now I’m watching the Second seasons of shows we Started together
I do know that framing your husband for your murder is beyond the pale of what an average woman might do. But it's so very necessary. Nick must be taught a lesson. He's never been taught a lesson! He glides through life with that charming-Nicky grin, his beloved-child entitlement, his fibs and shirkings, his shortcomings and selfishness, and no one calls him on anything. I think this experience will make him a better person. Or at least a sorrier one. Fucker.
Gillian Flynn, Gone Girl
Wallowing
Lately I’ve become a bit unstuck in time, like Billy Pilgrim famously does in Kurt Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse 5. But not in any exciting sci-fi way, just in the heartbreak sense of things - my mind creeping back to the past, to things I could’ve done differently, sometimes enacting a whole one-sided conversation, a monologue of what I should’ve said, in this or that situation, to really, properly, -finally- explain my point of view in a way that wouldn’t have sounded whiny or upset him, a way that would’ve finally made him understand. But of course that’s ridiculous. Was I really that bad at expressing myself? Or was it just that he didn’t, could never have, really heard me? Because he didn’t GET me. Because he was completely emotionally closed-off. Because we were a ludicrously bad match. One that I should stop mourning the loss of. Or maybe instead of explaining myself, I should have asked more questions. Like ‘what do you mean by ‘I can’t give you what you want’, when we’ve never really discussed what I want, or what you have to give?’ Maybe that would have been better. To demand more information, from this blank unknowable void of a person. You can project whatever you want onto a blank void - best-case scenarios and high hopes in the beginning, worst-case-scenario anxieties towards the end - but in the end, it’s all just projections. You never really knew, did you? Spent a year of your life staring at an unknowable mask. A very pretty one, but still just a mask. Heartbreak is stupidity. Like the Albert Einstein definition of insanity being when you do the same thing over and over expecting a different result. Except retroactively. Going over the same thing over and over, a thing FROM THE PAST that cannot, will not, be re-attempted. And expecting to, what? Draw new conclusions from it? Reach some kind of epiphany? Learn to do it right next time? But there won’t even be a next time. Not one that’ll ever be exactly like that time. Like that person. Because people, and their foibles and flaws and the best ways of communicating with them, are always different. Hence why each relationship presents different challenges. Hence why they can keep failing, and failing, and failing, and it’s never for the same exact reasons, never anything in yourself that you can pinpoint. Anyway. A friend of mine said that I like to wallow. That part of me secretly enjoys it, this indulgence of rolling around in my own pain and misery, and I should try to stop. I knew what he meant, but surely it can’t be self-indulgence? It’s not pleasurable. I don’t ENJOY feeling lonely, or betrayed. But maybe the frequent re-examination of times when I’ve felt that way is more of a scratching-at-a-scab, biting-an-ulcer kind of habit. But dear -God-, it does seem to take up a lot of mental space. It gets me when I’m half-asleep especially - getting up in the morning, or emerging from a nap on the train back home at night. That’s when I get unstuck in time, and suddenly I’m back in the relationship, trying to re-do the past. When I’m fully awake I can usually shove it to one side, with some effort. The best way to forget an experience is to put other experiences between you and it. I just don’t know what those experiences should be. Well, they’ll probably happen soon enough whether I want them to or not. This is all so stupid. Heartbreak is stupid. Especially heartbreak over someone you weren’t even well-matched with, someone who couldn’t even say they loved you. Maybe I should really be examining why I fall for the emotionally unavailable types, and never a nice, normal, open type. But that’s a mystery too big and dark and weird for even my overactive brain to start in on, at least tonight. I don’t know what I’m trying to say here. Just wallowing out loud for a bit I guess.
Parasite (Bong Joon-Ho, 2019)
Best of 2019 + best of the decade roundup
Okay, here we go. My picks for 2019 first: Best Film Midsommar Best Album FKA twigs - MAGDALENE Best TV show Mr Robot (final season) Best Book I didn’t read much new stuff this year, so I guess I’ll have to agree with Man Booker and give it to Margaret Atwood’s The Testaments. BEST OF THE DECADE! Film: Under the Skin – dir: Jonathan Glazer (2013) Album: Crystal Castles - Crystal Castles II (2010) TV show: The Americans Book: The Luminaries - Eleanor Catton
People not to fall for in 2020
People who don’t like Björk
People with a really well-maintained social media presence. What’s wrong with them?!
People with no social media presence. What’s wrong with them?!
Tory-voters
People who will gladly invite you to event after event with their friends but rarely come through for events in your life
People who (and I mean this literally, physically) aren’t there for you
People who don’t like Kate Bush
Weird British people who enjoy getting their food at Gregg’s. Or Boots.
People who are part of the ‘Radical Fairies’
People who take an inordinately long time to order in restaurants
People who are obsessed with their wardrobe
People who look down on your wardrobe
People who will loudly play you clips or music off their phones in public
People who ignore your discomfort when playing you clips or music off their phones in public
People who can’t relate to Thora Birch’s character in Ghost World
People who can’t relate to Larry David on Curb Your Enthusiasm
People of a much higher class background than you
People who’ve never had their heart broken
People who’ve never broken anyone else’s heart (and realised what they did, and learned from it)
People who’ve never known what it’s like to be lonely
People who walk away when you’re upset
People who have no identity of their own but find it by being constantly among groups of friends
People who do drugs all the time
People who look down on you for doing drugs sometimes
People who use the words ‘clingy’ or ‘needy’
People who think this list is too picky
People who think there’s anything wrong with being single
A playlist featuring Anna Meredith, FKA twigs, Thom Yorke, and others
Here you go.