(What A Mess, 2011)There are certain things, a lot of things, omitted. Mostly because it becomes too personal, without the abstraction of fiction hiding what is said here. The truth is I am a good liar. Because I don't realize I am lying anymore. With the words to follow after that statement, I need you to trust me again. I've been telling the truth this whole time. I keep telling myself that. This is all true, down to the last ridiculous detail. The names have been changed to protect the identities of the people involved in each and every story. Their new names manifest a life of their own, and in turn start to grow beyond the memory of the person they are based off of. In this process they are immortalized, continuing to change, to speak, to live. They will travel the world, they will fail, they will fall in love, they will lose it all, only to come back at the end. It is all about that, the end. Sometimes you can write the most nonsense things, and as long as you wow them in the end you're safe, you're ok, you're doing fine, you got them, they leave the theater to realize it is night, what they are feeling is good, satisfied, with new thoughts in their heads. They just sat down through 100 minutes of garbage, but they last remember the 20 minutes of everything coming together, finding peace, everything is resolving, the world is fixed again, it all makes sense, we can love each other. The end is never complete, it leaves you wanting more, or it leaves you full enough to carry the story away, to let it continue to live, to change, to develop in your mind, as life continues to grow and die and grow and die, one dying cell being replaced with a new cell, and it goes back and forth forever.
Somewhere in all this I meant to say you are here, will always be here, and you are there, and you may or may not always be there, but you'll always be here. (Right here).
No comments:
Post a Comment