Merrily rolling along

Because some days it's easier, and some days it isn't. Not that I'm not happy! I am an adult now, but sometimes I feel like that scared teenager with the uncertain fashion sense and the curious desire for approval. I am no longer prone to wild swings on the pendulum of emotion, and I don't think I can feel things so deeply now as I was able to back then, when every day it was a challenge even to put clothes on and go to school and to smile and to eat.

It's just, it's one of those days when it feels like I want to crawl out of myself, as if my own skin were too tight to fit all of me. (Like, you know, my clothes.) I wish there were an Obliviate for real life so you could take away the most terrible parts, the worst parts, so you could never go back to them and feel that before they happened, how much smoother and smaller was your heart.
------------------------------------------

Not a day goes by,
Not a single day.

But you're somewhere a part of my life,
And it looks like you'll stay.

As the days go by,
I keep thinking, "When does it end?
Where's the day I'll have started forgetting?"

But I just go on
Thinking and sweating
And cursing and crying
And turning and reaching
And waking,
And dying.

And no,
Not a day goes by,
Not a blessed day.

But you're still somehow part of my life
And you won't go away.

And I have to say,
If you did, I'd die.
I'll die day after day
After day after day,
After day after day,
After day.

Till the days go by,
Till the days go by,
Till the days go by.

Le fabuleux destin

I saw Amelie when it first came out. I remember seeing the ad in the paper, saying it was going to be shown in the Ayala cinemas only, and I think (I don't know if I remember correctly) that I'd already been waiting for the release for some time. I forgot how I found out about it--only that I was highly interested in French films because I was just starting to learn the language. But I remember how, getting started in livejournal, the background I used was a screencap of one of the last scenes--the one when Hipolito, the writer, turns and sees on the wall an excerpt from his own writing: Sans toi, les émotions d'aujourd hui ne seraient que la peau morte des émotions d'autrefois. My very first icons were from Amelie. The one I use on livejournal is still from Amelie, a shot of the little girl taking a picture of the sky, where there are clouds shaped like a big teddy bear.

Seeing the movie through an adult's eyes, I saw more than I did when I was younger. I think the movie is admired for all the right reasons; the cinematography is beautiful, the story is simple but so accessible and familiar, like real life, and the music is incredible even when you take it out of the context of the soundtrack. And... maybe everyone saw this but me. Or maybe I saw it before but I just forgot. But I can't stop thinking about how sometimes I'm like that man with the bones as fragile as glass, who sits at home with the padded furniture and carpeted floor, because he's so much at risk of getting hurt. Am I the only one who wishes she had such an excuse? Maybe not. I'm sure not. It's just, wouldn't it be so much easier to stay at home? To quit med school, to move out of my apartment, to stop taking risks. To bury myself somewhere that I wouldn't have to be hurt by the small hurtful things that other people do and say, and to stop forcing myself through the torture that is med school, which isn't hard because of the academics, if you know what I mean. Why does the human experience have to be so abrasive?


Monsieur Dufayel, je pense que je deviendrai comme vous. :-/