I remember the last months before the fork in the road came.
It's as if I knew it was going to come, I stayed...
to squeeze out the last bit of love from your heart that I still could.
A cold distance never felt so affirmed.
A couple weeks ago, I watched Masculin féminin: 15 faits précis, which again further justified Godard's genius. It was more sociological than philosophical compared to most of his other films. The film has further spurred my intentions of going somewhere this Summer, and not limit myself to being a towny. I'm in between New York, France, and Switzerland. As some of you may know, I'm in the process of producing/directing my own a film for a screenplay I wrote, so the experience must be consistent with my film. I feel like a trip to New York or France would provide me an experience that would help add to the creative flare of my film. The area I live in can only inspire so much, and I felt like I've sucked it dry for everything it's worth.
As time passes, and the faces I knew grow more and more unfamiliar, my mind questions...
my heart answers, diluted by the demons stored within the echos of the multiple "should/ should nots"
that everyone utters. It's starting to feel like all this city is providing me with are the drapes that keep me
away from society.
Word to Anna Karina for providing me with this quote:
"That's what makes me sad: Life is so different from books. I wish it were the same: clear, logical, organized. Only it isn't."
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