#notforme

This is an interesting fellow. Not sure he’s the one for me though considering he “talks to Hades” 👀 😬 🤦‍♀️

Tracing lines of Sahara sands in the dust bowl across from my drink, where the echoes of yesterday's tomorrows shatter the silence over and over, breaching the brink.

Blistering heat sucking the vapor from my very bones, in preparation for the explanation and the dreadful hesitation and the sending home.

Left with no argument, no place to stand, and nothing against which to rebel, just accepting the fate like a guilty thief caught with hands red, speechless under the spell. Pushing for more time and hoping to change a mind, but knowing the time has already come, abandoning, reluctantly, the dreams and expectations in favor of what has been done.

Left with questions, tack-sharp and poised, but lost to the second hand and the sighs, and creeping through the stomach like a virus, realization that all those nights were behind.

Blank and distant, glass like mirror, a face watches itself unleashing the final blow. Canvas and paper baring linkage, named and evidenced in daylight, for all the world to know.

Timeless and energized, the world's greatest demon, built from the fire, damning, and all aglow.

Voiced by the truth and thereof a slayer of hearts. For whose words were unheard in the wrath and the tearing apart. In silence, does the smoke settle, long into battle's aftermath.

The world,

And everyone in it

Will always keep secrets.

People trade them like cards,

Steal them as they did your heart,

Share them like stone soup.

I have learned, that

The more you have,

The harder they are to keep.

Especially when the secrets is love, except,

Not for me.

Yesterday at the cinema as part of

Best of Cinema, David Lynch’s Lost Highway.

Technically impressive and atmospherically very dense. Still, it just didn’t pull me in. I missed something to hold onto, and the constant puzzle mode pushed me out rather than making me curious.

Watching Bill Pullman and Patricia Arquette perform felt, for me, like pulling teeth. And that’s saying something, because I actually like both of them. Visually, there are moments that really work. The camera, the wide shots and close-ups, very much of its time and at the same time unmistakably Lynch. But the story made me sigh more than once. Whether this is some kind of classic hero’s journey or not is something you could philosophize about for hours. This just isn’t the place for it.

The soundtrack wasn’t my thing either. And then, right at the end, Rammstein shows up. That honestly finished me off.

I completely understand why the film has such a cult status. For me, though, it was more exhausting than fascinating.

For my taste, it clearly falls into the art-film category. And honestly, the film itself probably doesn’t need much more commentary at this point. I’m likely one of the last people who had never seen it before.