I think some time in our childhood/ teenagerhood, we were introduced to the idea that grief is cerebral, sadness is intellectual, and we internalized it in a way that we’ve never let this notion go.
There’s a reason that (I believe) only I can fathom why life and file are phonetic palindromes. I’ve been sick for the majority of my life, my history inscribed in my medical files…
We are coming to terms with the fact that even though we are social animals, we are not social carnivores. We do not require the 24×7 presence of another (just as we don’t need a 24×7 news feed,) and I think that’s beautiful.
Maybe, films are best thought of as an escape.
If we were to take them literally, they would either consume us; or we would be conned, confused, and consumed.
Never again; let it be said that lotuses are the only flowers that bloom in murky, muddy waters. Reesa is the flower that blooms in the darkest waters, the enchanting light at the end of the tunnel everyone should be blindsided by.