quietenvoy.

Homecoming

Plot Good intentions. Erratic bosses. Mounting paranoia. Unforeseen consequences spiraling out of control. Heidi (Julia Roberts) works at Homecoming, a facility helping soldiers transition to civilian life. Years later she has started a new life, when the Department of Defense questions why she left Homecoming. Heidi realizes there's a whole other story behind the one she's been telling herself.

Creators Micah Bloomberg, Eli Horowitz, Sam Esmail

Stars Julia Roberts, Bobby Cannavale, Stephan James

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The man sitting behind me

is telling the man sitting next to him about his heart bypass.

Outside the train’s window, the landscapes smear by— the earnest, haphazard distillations of America. The backyards

and back sides of houses. The back lots of shops and factories. The undersides of bridges. And then the        stretches

of actual land, which is not so much land but the kinds of water courses and greenery that register

like luck in the mind. Dense walls of trees. Punky little woods. The living continually out-growing

the fallen and decaying. The vines and ivies taking over everything, proving that the force of disorder is also the force

of plenty. Then the eye dilating to the sudden clearings—fields, meadows. The bogs that must have been left

by retreating glaciers. The creeks, the algae broth of ponds. Then the broad silver of rivers, shiny

as turnstiles. Attrition, dispersal, growth—a system unfastened to story, as though the green sight itself

was beyond story, was peacefully beyond any clear meaning. But why the gust of alertness that comes

to me every time any indication of the human passes into sight—like a mirror, like to like, even though I am        not

the summer backyard with the orange soccer ball resting there, even though I am not the pick-up truck

parked in the back lot, its two doors opened wide, and no one around to show whether it is funny

or an emergency that the truck is like that. Each thing looks        new even when it is old and broken down.

Júlio Resende É assim, a música

A música é assim: pergunta, insiste na demorada interrogação - sobre o amor?, o mundo?, a vida? Não sabemos, e nunca nunca o saberemos. Como se nada dissesse vai afinal dizendo tudo. Assim: fluindo, ardendo até ser fulguração – por fim o branco silêncio do deserto. Antes porém, como sílaba trémula, volta a romper, ferir, acariciar a mais longínqua das estrelas.

Black Mirror Hang the DJ