YJL

A twitter I followed tweeted¹ (got to favor it) the clip below exactly two months ago, and a month ago, a blog I read posted it. It is like recurring reminders around me, they kept pondering me. After, I had been waiting to post about it, but I didn’t because it’s kind of way too negative. Hell, who am I to care about that?

After I watched the clip, I checked out the film (Synecdoche, New York). It’s kind of abstract to me, I knew I didn’t catch the concept of this film well. Basically, the plot is good but it has nothing to do with this post. All I want to bring up is the last line of dialog in the clip.

Minister: Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I’ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I’ve been pretending I’m OK, just to get along, just for, I don’t know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.

I didn’t mean to shout that out to everyone nor to particular someone, it’s just a feeling of yelling that. Though, I only tweeted, yelling that is really not my way at the moment. Nope, it didn’t make me better but it seemed to be a necessary step to relieve. Some things or nothing caused all of the sudden irrational feelings, no clue of what just happened, or what the hell I am writing.

Well, fuck everybody. Amen.