Romantic-film-abusers-anonymous
I am a complex soul.
I don't doubt that everyone else is too mind you... hell, i couldnt possibly take credit for being complex over and above the complexity of the rest of mankind. It's just that today, i feel particularly complicated.
I can be strong, independent, weak, impulsive, emotional, heartless, flippant and loving all in the same minute... and sometimes i'm overwhelmed by my own feelings. Last night was one of those times.
Anyone who knows me will say that I really shouldnt watch emotive films... they trigger an unbidden discontent within me that shocks me with its force, and it's not like i didn't even like the film. No, I LOVED it. But sure as fate, as the credits came up... i started questioning things. Things that, goddammit, i dont want to question.
My life and how i live it is generally a source of joy to me... but when i get in that frame of mind, it's like BAM/SMACK/BOSH WHAT ARE YOU DOIIINNNG WITH YOURSELF?!? WHERE ARE WE GOING?!? WHY ARE WE HERE?!? GAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Poppycock. (i dont think i have ever used that word before, yet it feels oh-so-right)
Despair goes through me like a runaway train... and fills me with anguish. Then, it leaks out of my eyes long after i finish watching the film, liquid anguish. I could bottle and sell the stuff, but the only people who may buy such a thing are washed up musicians who get too successful and forget that it was angst and despair that made their songs so popular. So to recapture their initial angsty popularity and reconnect with their audience, they could use a bottle or two of liquid anguish. (Noel Gallagher)
OR...Maybe film makers could use it to make more films that upset my inner balance. bastards - Make more films that make me cry.
A good cry should never be underestimated, that much is true. But films like 'PS i love you' evoke an innate and unbending fear of being alone in me, that i can hardly breathe. Day to day, i never worry about it. I love my life and my independence... but something stirs within me when i see a well-crafted lovestory... and rears its ugly head. Rendering me useless for about 24 hours afterwards. True story.
After the initial gushing subsides, i feel both joyful and hopeless all in one swift motion. Like a punch to the jaw - figuratively speaking of course. In literal terms, that's nothing like a punch to the jaw.
It's scary how affected i am by something i KNOW is made for pure entertainment. More than that, it always takes me by surprise. Each time i think 'It won't happen this time. I'm made of STEEEEEEL'... Inevitably, I'm wrong.
I'm not talking about just ANY romantic slush though, i have standards. (DONT LAUGH. I really DO!) I'm not some tearful mess trudging through life getting soppy at every slight romantic notion. Yet a well written love story always has me in bits. It's DESPICABLE.
The tragedy is, i laugh at people who scare themselves silly with horror films... but isnt it just as ridiculous for me, a secretly romantic soul, to torture it with unnattainable wrecklessly romantic celluloid?
After a childhood of literally no morals or conscience, or feelings even (ask my sisters, they'll pretty much vouch for that!) ... for the first time in my life, tv and film have the power to make me blub. It scares me. PLUS i love that i'm independent (insert suitable woman-power R-E-S-P-E-C-T type song here) and not reliant on men to make me happy... so how where does it COME FROM! Just from watching a film? JESUS.
AND it makes me ANGRY too... these films have raised my expectations so high that the version of love i aspire to is absolutely, unequivocally unattainable. Believe me, i'd change that if i could. I think it's ridiculous that a girl like me, someone who isn't a COMPLETE halfwit (but who arguably may have halfwit aspects), would allow that to happen to themselves.
Am i the only one who does that? Is there some kind of romantic-film-abusers-anonymous that i can join??
Even in real relationships that i am surrounded by... some inspire me... but mostly i look around and i worry that there are no stupidly romantic heart-on-your-sleeve ridiculous gestures any more. We seem to be too scared to assert the romantic gestures for fear of looking stupid or being laughed at by our peers, who in our generation have become the be all and end all of our existence. Love is on the couch watching TV, it's given away too easily and discarded just as quick. Do people love each other any more? Or, are we all so impatient that we'll settle for second-rate fast love in the arms of someone who is there, but isn't quite right for us? Our generation is spoiled. We want it all. Now. There's no waiting around for anything, not even love.
You've got to hope... and i do... that the romantic souls who created the stories that touch me, are out there somewhere writing about people they know who are keeping real love, not just movie love, alive.
I don't doubt that everyone else is too mind you... hell, i couldnt possibly take credit for being complex over and above the complexity of the rest of mankind. It's just that today, i feel particularly complicated.
I can be strong, independent, weak, impulsive, emotional, heartless, flippant and loving all in the same minute... and sometimes i'm overwhelmed by my own feelings. Last night was one of those times.
Anyone who knows me will say that I really shouldnt watch emotive films... they trigger an unbidden discontent within me that shocks me with its force, and it's not like i didn't even like the film. No, I LOVED it. But sure as fate, as the credits came up... i started questioning things. Things that, goddammit, i dont want to question.
My life and how i live it is generally a source of joy to me... but when i get in that frame of mind, it's like BAM/SMACK/BOSH WHAT ARE YOU DOIIINNNG WITH YOURSELF?!? WHERE ARE WE GOING?!? WHY ARE WE HERE?!? GAAAAAAAAAA!!!!
Poppycock. (i dont think i have ever used that word before, yet it feels oh-so-right)
Despair goes through me like a runaway train... and fills me with anguish. Then, it leaks out of my eyes long after i finish watching the film, liquid anguish. I could bottle and sell the stuff, but the only people who may buy such a thing are washed up musicians who get too successful and forget that it was angst and despair that made their songs so popular. So to recapture their initial angsty popularity and reconnect with their audience, they could use a bottle or two of liquid anguish. (Noel Gallagher)
OR...Maybe film makers could use it to make more films that upset my inner balance. bastards - Make more films that make me cry.
A good cry should never be underestimated, that much is true. But films like 'PS i love you' evoke an innate and unbending fear of being alone in me, that i can hardly breathe. Day to day, i never worry about it. I love my life and my independence... but something stirs within me when i see a well-crafted lovestory... and rears its ugly head. Rendering me useless for about 24 hours afterwards. True story.
After the initial gushing subsides, i feel both joyful and hopeless all in one swift motion. Like a punch to the jaw - figuratively speaking of course. In literal terms, that's nothing like a punch to the jaw.
It's scary how affected i am by something i KNOW is made for pure entertainment. More than that, it always takes me by surprise. Each time i think 'It won't happen this time. I'm made of STEEEEEEL'... Inevitably, I'm wrong.
I'm not talking about just ANY romantic slush though, i have standards. (DONT LAUGH. I really DO!) I'm not some tearful mess trudging through life getting soppy at every slight romantic notion. Yet a well written love story always has me in bits. It's DESPICABLE.
The tragedy is, i laugh at people who scare themselves silly with horror films... but isnt it just as ridiculous for me, a secretly romantic soul, to torture it with unnattainable wrecklessly romantic celluloid?
After a childhood of literally no morals or conscience, or feelings even (ask my sisters, they'll pretty much vouch for that!) ... for the first time in my life, tv and film have the power to make me blub. It scares me. PLUS i love that i'm independent (insert suitable woman-power R-E-S-P-E-C-T type song here) and not reliant on men to make me happy... so how where does it COME FROM! Just from watching a film? JESUS.
AND it makes me ANGRY too... these films have raised my expectations so high that the version of love i aspire to is absolutely, unequivocally unattainable. Believe me, i'd change that if i could. I think it's ridiculous that a girl like me, someone who isn't a COMPLETE halfwit (but who arguably may have halfwit aspects), would allow that to happen to themselves.
Am i the only one who does that? Is there some kind of romantic-film-abusers-anonymous that i can join??
Even in real relationships that i am surrounded by... some inspire me... but mostly i look around and i worry that there are no stupidly romantic heart-on-your-sleeve ridiculous gestures any more. We seem to be too scared to assert the romantic gestures for fear of looking stupid or being laughed at by our peers, who in our generation have become the be all and end all of our existence. Love is on the couch watching TV, it's given away too easily and discarded just as quick. Do people love each other any more? Or, are we all so impatient that we'll settle for second-rate fast love in the arms of someone who is there, but isn't quite right for us? Our generation is spoiled. We want it all. Now. There's no waiting around for anything, not even love.
You've got to hope... and i do... that the romantic souls who created the stories that touch me, are out there somewhere writing about people they know who are keeping real love, not just movie love, alive.
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