9.14.2011

Those summer girls are bright, shiny.

Legs showing, short sleeves, tennis tans.

They smile, baby-whites beneath the

Oh So Blue of their eyes.

Those winter girls are darker, more sure.

Cigarette smoke clouds around the bars and clubs

and their tattoos are the only sleeves they need, though they ask

Santa Baby Leave My Presents Under the Tree.

9.04.2011

cinemaphilia

I just saw The Debt today with Jessica Chastain and Sam Worthington, written by Matthew Vaughan. And I absolutely loved it, though it was a bit slow--mainly, I loved it because it's made me think.

There are so many things that influence who we are and what we do. It's difficult to name just one event that led up to the next: it's not a linear progression. Rather, everything is intrinsic upon everything else.

When we deny ourselves what we want out of fear, is this because of who we are? Is this because of the series of choices and decisions, some our own but mostly those of other people, that have contributed to causing that fear?

At Nathan's funeral, the preacher, a man whose wife had suffered two miscarriages twenty years ago, told his parents, "You're lucky, at least you had twenty years with him." Did he say that because of his own hurt and pain, or did he say that to put things in perspective? I don't particularly believe that you can make your grief a lower portion of your life just because you're lucky you aren't worse off.

I've written so many short stories, from 2 to 20 pages. I can't focus on anything after that 20th page, like I have a block. I write poetry, mostly just angry lines. But I hope that anything I write can be as powerful and thought-provoking as some of these movies that I watch. They have this element of something being withheld from the main character--not as some plot device, but because sometimes, that's just what happens. Something just holds us back.