So this is it; this is the last edition of My Life at the Movies. 28 months ago it was a Facebook note. For 17 months after that it lived here in Toronto. For 10 it’s been in Pittsburgh. Thank you for the space. To lay it to rest beneath a Satanic Cross is fitting, what with my forficate tongue and all.
All of this began because of a girl; a girl I wondered if I could get over, and later if I should. All of this questioning has been filtered through films: No Strings Attached, Cloud Atlas and literally hundreds of others. But I no longer need the filter, I’ve found my voice.
It’s romantic first and foremost. Confessing my affection for movies like, “Sex and the City” make that obvious. My God the looks that statement gets, as well as the laughs it leads me too. Life is so full of the unexpected. Romeo meets Juliet and their blood feud makes the heart beat. “I love you” they say is said too much, but from the lips of the one you love it’s never said enough. Melodrama, I know, I indulge it often. Yet with it comes a passion that excites senses beyond sight. Touch to be specific. The flesh profits from the emotional luxury. That said the mind needs more than just the niceties.
It needs struggle like muscles need strain. Troubled leads like Prometheus’ Elizabeth Shaw have reminded me to stretch first. To look inside my mind and see how far it takes me. Whether it be another blog, the novel I’d love to write or something still unknown so be it. I’ve learned to trust myself, to stand by my decisions or turn them on their head if needed. It’s frustrating to those who find it fickle, odd to almost everyone else, but there’s one who finds it charming and forgives it for the faults.
Be that as it may I will not press my luck. It’s time to be as stoic as Conan; blissful as the barbarian who was forced to go without. An Atlas shrug is necessary whenever the weight is the world, but since I’m far from worry it’s time to strut into the sunset.
What happens next is already evident… I have no fucking clue. Like Tin-Tin I will let the adventure come to me. The last time it did it approached me over drinks dressed in curls and a smile. It grew into a dream I experienced with eyes wide open and put down in poetic prose. Thank god for My Life at the Movies, and the devil for my tongue. The first gave me the framework, while the latter made the house a home. Home is where the heart is and mine resides on Cedar Lane, amidst Les Miserables and their melancholy ways. For love demands the depths of sorrow and promises the heights of heroes. Once again into the breach dear friends, and onto elevation.