Today was in many ways awful. Couldn't sleep. Wake up to a text from the girl. Bad day at the office. Terrible feelings of sickness, general physical and mental spiritual. Disaffection for my fellow men. Detachment from the same. My second 2000 words are awful, meaningless, whirling, plotless, falling far from existential and reading more like the haphazard fantasy that my little student writes. I smoke a cigarette and climb the hillside to my stately apartment, and I feel as if I am going to collapse from exhaustion. I feel again like I'm dying of something.
So I put in "Persona," a film of Bergman's I actually purchased almost a year ago. It's amazing how few films I really watched in college, when I was supposedly a major in Film Studies. And now, in less than a week, rata-tat-tock, "Badlands" by Malick, "Band a Part" by Godard, "Persona" by Bergman. "Persona" is almost my favorite of the lot. Not sure how I feel about the ending, although I think that I appreciate it. It's not about the ending, anyways. It's a film which seems to nail precisely the sort of thing that I have been feeling for awhile. The main character (one of them, at least) is an actress who has stopped speaking - who perhaps cannot speak, out of disgust or fear or disenchantment with how little speech can really express.
I am remembering how much I love the movies.
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