Sometimes I love how much I hate you but at the same time, I am scared of how much I love you

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@manasv1
Sometimes I love how much I hate you but at the same time, I am scared of how much I love you
F1 Movie: A formula of what could have been
The F1 movie has frozen time at its peak. Carlos in red, Hamilton in Mercedes, Sergio in Red Bull, and of course, Steiner in the ever glory of Haas. For long-time followers, this visual alone evokes a carefully preserved Formula One memory, presenting the sport of everglory in one of its most recognisable modern phases.
And that, perhaps, is where the film succeeds the most.
From the opening laps to the final showdown, the visuals are undeniably stunning. The cinematography delivers everything a motorsport fan could ask for: gleaming floodlights, trackside uncertainty, the violence of speed, and the glamour that has come to define Formula One’s global image. The cars look spectacular, the paddock atmosphere feels immersive, and the race sequences are crafted with breathtaking precision.
But beyond the extravaganza lies a problem the film never truly escapes, its complete lack of surprise.
The storyline unfolds in an almost painfully predictable manner, moving from one expected moment to the next without ever challenging the audience. Every rivalry, every emotional setback, and every triumphant moment feels telegraphed far in advance. For a sport built on split-second unpredictability, safety cars, strategy gambles, and chaotic outcomes, the film ironically delivers a narrative with very little tension.
That is what makes the viewing experience bittersweet for an F1 fan.
On one hand, the sport has rarely looked this beautiful on screen. On the other hand, the film’s inaccuracies are just as massive as its visuals are polished. The racing world portrayed often feels less like Formula One and more like a dramatised, fantasy version of it, something closer to fan fiction than authentic sports storytelling.
A major issue lies in the central performance. Brad Pitt simply does not suit the film’s world. His presence never fully blends into the hyper-specific, technically demanding environment of Formula One. Rather than disappearing into the role, he often feels like a Hollywood star placed inside a racing simulator. The performance lacks the raw edge, urgency, and lived-in realism needed for a story set in one of the most intense sports in the world.
Perhaps the most unrealistic aspect, however, is the engineer-driver trope, especially the dynamic between a male driver and a female engineer, which is often framed in a romanticised way. While the trope may work cinematically, it feels deeply disconnected from the realities of Formula One culture. The professional boundaries, high-pressure communication systems, and public scrutiny within the paddock make such a storyline difficult to accept as believable. In real life, it simply would not have worked the way the film presents it.
Ultimately, the F1 movie is a visually brilliant but narratively safe project, one that celebrates the sport's aesthetics while often misunderstanding its essence. For fans, it offers nostalgia, gorgeous racecraft, and iconic grid memories, but it also leaves behind the nagging sense that what could have been an authentic motorsport drama turned into something far more fictional.
A thrilling watch for the eyes, perhaps. But for the heart of a true Formula One fan, it remains frustratingly hollow.
I wish I was optimistic enough to call my museum of failure the gallery of trying. I wish I was optimistic enough to climb the mountain of experiences instead of drowning in the ocean of regrets. I wish I was optimistic enough to say I am trying to achieve success instead of believing I am trying to avoid failure. But at the end of the day, I am still walking through the boulevard of broken dreams to visit the graveyard of my ambitions. At the end of the day, I am still standing in front of my worst nightmare, the tree of 'what ifs'.
what is love?
I've never felt it, I've never done it. But the closest thing to love for me is the notes app folder filled with things related to you. Closest thing to love for me is the Pinterest folder dedicated to you. Closest thing to love for me is the playlist filled with songs you love. Closest thing to love for me is leaving you because I couldn't love.
Happiness?
I have forgotten what happiness is. I have forgotten how it feels. I remember laughing so hard that my stomach cramped up and the joy of seeing movies but not the accurate feeling of happiness. I can't recall the last time I felt it. Nowadays it's just a satisfaction because I know I won't have that particular feeling again. I have become too cautious to be happy.
There's a universe where I'm not there There's a universe where I'm an orphan There's a universe where you're not there There's a universe where I'm dead But there's also a universe where I love you back I was hoping it would be this one but somehow it isn't
Narcissistic
All the emotional scars I gave myself thinking you gave All the pettylies in my mind saying they deserve me I made myself the victim god knows mwhy but I don't even believe in him so he would deny
Deny knowing anything about me anyway cause even he doesn't know all my shades I act like the victim, the one who got hurt my whole life is portrayed as a hyperbole
I may be the one hurting you again and again but I'll never accept it even if it came to my face I'll deny and deny until you give up I'll tell myself to keep my chin up
But I'll say sorry for all the miscellaneous things be it seeing your phone or a mistaken touching ill not speak up when you're absolutely wrong and just agree to everything like a broken song
Tears
Things were heard tears were shed unspoken things made my mind a wreck
Tried being quiet but the unshed tears came out as if they would disappear
they betray me at the worst of time but at least I can call them mine
Faceless
You're not in my life I haven't seen your face, have I? You're just someone faceless and my friends call me shameless for being in love with a shadow we won't walk in the meadows
and I'd be lying to say that it doesn't hurt you're not here you won't comfort me when I'm in fear that you're just an art of fiction and that you're not even real
What about me?
I forgive too easily and I hate myself for it so I never got the apology I deserved well suck it
What if it doesn't get easier like everybody says I don't know how far I have to go to feel like I am there
I want to scream, please don't expect too much from me I am terrified and scared that this is all I'll ever be
I still grieve for the person that never got to exist I urge that version to come but she always resists
I am sorry that I am not everything you imagined to be but I am tired of trying so go seek her for me
I don't know exactly what it is that I want but I know for sure quite literally this is not
I am afraid that I am walking on the wrong path but I have already come here and it's too far to retract
Failing hurts more when I know I used to achieve I had so much potential but I lost it in the spree