Some movies, we want to experience, again and again,
from the prologue, until it crashes, into the credits.
With waves of laughter and tears, oft happily afters.
Some movies, we value the sum, wishing to whiplash
through the reel, for its too real, with smoking guns.
We love the family hugs at the start, but it breaks our hearts
all through the middle parts, as if we’ve been gutted or shot.
Specially, taking the loved ones into a church, securing
the doors and nailing the windows shut. Claustrophobia
of the sinister, of the dark, of the red and blue flames.
The splinters, the bruises, the beatings, the fear, the burn
hold onto the credits, tear through the compassionate soul.
The movie was gut-wrenchingly good, but torturous.
We sigh, as we say our goodbyes, especially when
we know that the actor has overdosed, joined the dead
in his youth. The truth of weaving a tale, summing up life.
6/20/2023
Trying to make it through “The Patriot”
The dreamland calls me to bury myself deep into the warm, sweaty breast of a safer,
lawless land, that's comforting whilst maintaining the surrealism that's mirrored in the
passive, day-to-day life of most observers, humans, and astronauts.
Tonight I can be anyone, anything, superhuman, sub-human, superhero, anti-hero; or just
simply embrace the benefits of a world created entirely for me; courtesy of myself and my
subconscious. Disregard this universe, and create your own.
Sleep is the totally accessible, complimentary antidote to your messed up, gut-wrenchingly
predictable, miserable life.
The ship that sinks, but keeps on sailing.