Posts tagged with "equivocality"

Missing A Ride

I almost did something stupid crazy exciting adventurous tonight. But I didn’t. Maybe it was too last-minute. Maybe I was feeling too shy and introverted. Maybe I’m complacent. Maybe I’m too comfortable where I am right now.

Maybe the consequences of failure were greater than the potential gains of success.

Sometimes I wonder when the scales will tip that balance. When — if ever — will I be unsatisfied enough with things to step out of my comfort zone and take those chances?

When will I catch that ride?

A Bitter Belief

Jack: What kind of movies do you prefer, the ones with the sad endings or the happy ones?

Claire: The sad ones definitely. I like movies that make me cry.

Jack: Then you’re with the right guy.

Jack is the leading man. Such screen time is only reserved for protagonists, though anti-hero’s fit this mould too. You want to root for him, to discover that in the end he’s smart enough to give up the criminal life, to stay out of trouble, to truly appreciate the one who loves him. That’s what Claire is banking on too.

She wants to fulfill the dream that she’ll get the bad boy, and she’ll be the one for whom he gives up his criminal life. A story that’s been told time and time again, in life and on the screen. But he won’t, and that makes her want him even more.

Through their relationship, you have a hard time believing that anyone would be so self-destructive to fall for a guy like this, the way you don’t believe a professional assassin would suddenly develop a conscience when discovering that his mark is a 12-year-old girl. But this is Hollywood, and we’re lead to believe that anything is possible.

And as he cleans Claire’s blood off his bedroom floor, you realize that it’s harder to believe he was able to fill a bucket of water from the faucet when he just got out on parole and his utility bills have been unpaid for over a year, than a girl falling in love with someone so bad for her. After all, life has not proven otherwise.

This quietly fills you with bitterness.

When Will The Devil Take Me?

It hasn’t stopped raining since I woke up this morning, and now it’s dark, with only the streetlamps and their reflections in the puddles for light. It’s cold outside.

This is a good thing.

I feel like the eponymous character in Onegin. Sitting on the balcony in the dead of winter, waiting for a letter. His servant, handing him a stemmed glass of vodka, asks him to come inside because it’s cold. “I like the cold” he replies, as he resigns himself to his fate.

He walks down the streets of Saint Petersburg, and his motif comes in on the piano, followed by strings. FADE TO BLACK.

A stoic face to the world. Can I say stoic? I like stoic.

These titles are getting harder and harder to write.

And I want to say that I’m melancholy, but I’m not. But I’m not giddy either. My emotions aren’t black and white. They’re a mixture of ups and down. I don’t know what to say when I don’t know what I’m feeling or what comes next.

I’m just waiting. Passive. Yielding.