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cine-confess · 3 years

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Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelles (1975) - Comfort in Repetition

Throughout 2020 and 2021, a lot of us are spending our time in home, adjusting an isolated, repetitive new life away from sickness.

What if Isolation and Repetition brings comfort? And what if those are the only escape from hard times?

Our everyday lives are often repetitive that we sometimes find crushingly boring, meaningless, and less-than-alive. It is a cycle that keeps repeating. A seamless system of repetitions.

Wake up, eat, go to work, go home, shower, eat, sleep.

Such is life under capitalism.

But at times, repetition is the only comfort we can have in a troubled world. In a world where we cannot control a lot of things to our comfort, the controlled repetition of everyday life can be an escape from the uncontrollable, constantly-changing external lives of us.

Dreariness and Repetition is a thing we can comfortably expect and control. It's easy to handle workdays without new things, because we know what will happen, and we know how we will handle it.

We have autonomy in repetition. We have freedom in isolation. Isolation brings us comfort.

But what if the repetition breaks down? Will we be glad or angry?

Trigger Warnings: Suicide mention, Suicidal Ideation, COVID-19 Mentions

Enter Jeanne Dielman, 23, Quai du Commerce 1080 Bruxelles (1975), a film by Chantal Akerman. Widely known for its' soul-crushing length of three hours and twelve minutes that consists of a woman doing her chores with no music, minimal dialogue, and snail's pace. It is considered a rite of passage for both cinephiles and film students for this reason alone. It is THE quintessential "boring European movie".

All we see in the three hour runtime is just a woman doing her chores and housework.

Wake up, make bed, eat breakfast, tidy up home, groceries, stare at the void, shower, eat dinner, meet client, sleep.

That is all what we see in the movie. The life of Jeanne Dielman. Nothing more, nothing less. For three full hours. The title itself is literally her home address!

it is minimalism taken to the realistic extreme. It forces you to think, it forces you to focus, and it forces you to feel. Because this is reality.

The slow pacing makes all the scenes where Jeanne Dielman does her chores feels longer and more true to reality. A good chunk of 30-40 minutes is dedicated to scenes of her cooking. It's not like in cooking shows where we see cooking in a quick way, we see cooking in real time. Boringly.

Even bathing scenes feels like a chore thanks to the pacing and filmmaking style. Yes, we see Jeanne Dielman strip naked and wash herself, but the pacing makes it felt like an actual chore.

Because such is life. It is full of boring repetitive chores.

Even when other people comes to the screen such as her son and 'clients' only reinforces the loneliness and isolationist life of Jeanne Dielman, since they all have very minimal dialogue of mundane things.

"How was school?", "Eh, fine i guess. Skipped PE to meet someone", "Don't do that", "Okay Mom, but I was with a friend", "Alright, let's continue reading", "Okay"

Nothing fancy. Just a mother and her school-aged son. Just another chore. In Jeanne Dielman's life, conversation is just a chore.

Fortunately, it's not all boring chores in house. We see Jeanne Dielman go out and do things like shopping for groceries, go to bank, and go to a nice cafe.

It's scenes like this that makes us appreciate the little things in life. The little trips to minimarkets, the cafes we frequently go to, the roads we travel. It's what makes everyday life bearable, it's kind of like what Studio Ghibli movies does to you, but in a more realistic way.

And even then we get a little backstory and personality on Jeanne. She has a penchant for attention to detail, shows signs of perfectionism, had a late husband who died, lives with her teenaged son alone, has a sister in Canada, works as an occasional babysitter and a prostitute when her son isn't around. We can see that Jeanne Dielman is having a hard time in her life outside of isolation. And it's possible that she sees her dreary life as an escape.

It's a brutally isolated repetitive life for Jeanne Dielman. And arguably, she is purposefully isolating herself from her implied terrible reality.

But at the same time, she finds comfort, control, and agency in her calculated, and isolated everyday life.

Because ultimately, she can control her life. This is the life that makes her feel like herself. Free of other people and external threats from controlling her.

But it doesn't last forever for her. While the first two (of three) days depicted in the movie shows a carefully-constructed, scheduled. clean, and controlled everyday life, the third day is where things breaks down. The repetition breaks. She is forced to get out from isolation.

And Jeanne Dielman does not like it.

Her details disappears.

A potato drops, a shoe drops, a button in a clothing is gone and you can't find the exact same button after going to three tailors. There is a level of anger that you could feel in the smallest of mistakes in your life. There's nothing more annoying than seeing a clothing...missing a button. There's nothing more terrible than not being able to find the exact same button for the outfit. Now the outfit looks shitty forever.

Have you ever had your days ruined from smallest of mistakes? This film shows it in subtle detail through Delphine Seyrig's face and movements as Jeanne Dielman loses control of her life. The thesis of this part of the movie is: One mistake sometimes ruins the entire day, and Chantal Akerman portrays it realistically.

Mistakes in life makes agency in life slowly disappearing.

And it does not stop there. In the span of hours, foods are getting overcooked, usual coffee tastes bad (the screenshot shows her having to brew a coffee from scratch because she's pissed over it),

Then her favourite table at the cafe is occupied.

It's small, but you can feel the crushing betrayal over it. It's like someone is taking away your friend from you. And the other seat don't feel as good as the usual. We all definitely felt betrayed over smallest stuff like that in our lives. And to top it all off, your favourite waitress that usually asks you for orders and knows your favourite menus are not there.

Does it felt like something is leaving you behind? Yes.

Your comfort is leaving you behind, and forces you to get out. But the thing is, you are comfortable, and content with the repetitive comfort. It's the only thing you can have, and you can't have it suddenly.

Jeanne Dielman's life is suddenly changing to a direction she does not expect, nor want to.

The last minutes of the movie now shows her job -- prostitution. She must service a john. And a john gets serviced indeed. But something is wrong: Jeanne Dielman feels pleasure from her job.

She felt pleasure from the job that wasn't meant to give you pleasure. Throughout the movie, we see her "job" being.....just another job. Just something to get bread in her mouth. No pleasure, no hate. A job.

But feeling pleasure in a job where you normally won't....that's also an unwanted change in life.

Jeanne Dielman's comfort zone changes, but.....her carefully-constructed life is being taken away.

In the last minute, we see her life being taken away. For Jeanne Dielman, a person whose life got taken away previously, this is an unwelcome change. Her dreary life now no longer gives comfort

It is happening again. And this time, she can't go back to her previous dreary life. She WILL want a different life, and it's unfair.

And what happens next is her last attempt to reclaim her dreary life that has gave her comfort and agency.

She murders the john. To her, he is taking her life away. And she doesn't want it to happen. Therefore, he is responsible for taking away her comfort zone.

Now, how would you reclaim your comfort zone?

This is the question that Chantal Akerman asks us, to understand Jeanne Dielman's desperate action. But the next scene shows that she is never getting her life back.

She must go.

And fade to black. The life of Jeanne Dielman ends.

That is all you see in the three-hour-and-twelve-minutes runtime. Nothing really happens, but something is building up, only to crash in the last minutes. This move is boring, but it asks you to see. It asks you to notice. It asks you to feel.

It is technically, an action movie. In that the action is in you.

The uninterrupted 7-minute shot of Jeanne Dielman bleeding to death in an attempt to commit suicide made me think.

What would you do when Change brings pain? Would you revert to nothingness?

As I am typing this, I am currently having carpal tunnel syndrome on both hands. So, not being able to do anything forced me to find something to occupy my ADHD-brain with.

And yet, I chose this film. On paper, this should be a nightmare for me who has ADHD and therefore continously losing focus. Yeah, I did lost focus few times. But I spent more time focusing.

Because this is just what people call, life

As I have mentioned in my Melancholia (2011) review, I had a bad breakup that resulted in a months-long grief in 2015. What I did not talk about was how my days went.

In the days following it, it was all mundane. Nothing exciting, just me at home, doing chores, and occasional succumbs to dark thoughts and depression. And crying myself to sleep.

I reverted to dreariness. To escape from grief.

My routine was boring, but it might have helped me to become numb from the pain. I've become more numb to anything thanks to everyday of boring, mundane life. I've begun to think that being at home, in dreary life is comfort. Better than the scary world of the outside. (No, I am NOT being a Hikikomori)

But it's the reason why I am still alive to this day. I found comfort in dreariness. Dreariness lets me revert to a place where nothing changes. Even when i succumb to dark thoughts, nothing bad will happen. Dreariness was escapism for me.

Technically, I have died. And this dreariness is just where my ghost live in. This repetitive life is peaceful.

Repetition brings comfort when variance brings pain.

Weeks ago, I attempted to add variance in my dreary work-from-home life by doing fun drawings. All it did was giving me Carpal Tunnel Syndrome. Maybe it's my body screaming "No, I don't want this. Stay living a mundane life, please" While it will go away, I wonder, is variance in life an 'invasion' to comfort?

Is repetition truly a comfort zone?

While I thought about it, I thought about this pandemic. Isolation is what keeps us alive. As long as we all stay at home, staying true to our dreary life as comfort from a pandemic.

"Staying home saves lives" indeed.

I have stayed home for the rest of 2020 and 2021. The outside world is bad. And isolating myself brings a small amount of peace. Small, but peace none the less. It is what repetition brings. Dreariness helped me move on from the many disasters around me.

Then as I am writing this, Something happened.

My life suddenly changed for the worse drastically, in a way that I might be losing my current comfortable mundane life. I don't want to lose it. Let's hope that I won't lose it. Again, I wonder, are changes in life an 'invasion' to comfort?

Is reverting to dreariness and repetition a way to stop the pain in change?

The question keeps ringing in my head. And the ending of the film stays in my mind. What if I lose my current dreariness that is my comfort? Find a new repetition, they said. But I persist. It's like a person being taken away from you. You don't look for replacement.

How will I able to reclaim it? What should I do when reverting to dreariness becomes impossible?

Maybe the answer should remain unanswered. As long as we stay at home. As long as we make dreariness an escape from reality.

#write up #tw: suicide mentions #tw: suicidal ideation #grief #directed by women #tw: covid-19

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cine-confess · 3 years

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Melancholia (2011): My experience with the melancholy.

Alternative title: What no “Melodrama” and “SOUR” (and “Offerings” by Typhoon) could do to a mf who needed it back in 2015.

It has been six years, six years ago, at exactly July 10th. 2015, a planet crashed into my life and destroyed everything, but luckily, I was be able to rebuilt my whole world from the ashes.

There has been a discussion of movies that got you into films in general. The movie that you love so much, it gets you into the medium as a whole. And how it affects you emotionally. I would like to talk about my story on how movies provided my recovery from the darkest time of my life. And I want to address my feelings regarding this movie, especially when reconciling with not-so-fun things in real life (both facts about me and this movie)

Most people assume it was either Jackie (2016), Synecdoche, New York (2008), or All That Jazz (1980) that saved me, got me into the medium, turned me into…...this. But not those. The story is more complicated than that.

And by that, I would like to preface this write-up by saying that I have planned to say this in a long time. I have already addressed it on my Instagram, but it was for my close friends list only. Now that it has been six years since it happened, I am ready to tell my story on how Melancholia, a giant planet destroying all life, saved me from my darkest time.

And a fair warning; This is VERY TMI, get outta here if you don’t want to see TMI stuff.

Before I go further, I want you to know that this is NOT a “My side of the story” thing. This is a writeup on how I feel in the aftermath and please do not go and assign who was the bad one and the good one. Thank you.

In 2015, I had a terrible break-up. In July 10th, 2015. I will not provide more details. But it happened.

The event did not come sudden, it happened in the middle of a party. I was invited by one of them to have a dinner together in a weeaboo restaurant that I loved. It was an anime-themed novelty restaurant. It had great food, nice atmosphere, and manga, with the speakers blaring anime theme songs, what’s not to like?

So I went with my best friend to meet all of them. But before the dinner even started, I already had a bad feeling that this dinner will suck. I wallowed in, trying so hard not to show negative emotions. Until my best friend escorted me into an empty space, where she tells me;

“Listen to me, we agreed that we don't want you to make any scenes tonight, no, we don't!"

(By the way, that's not the exact words from her, but she did say that to me before the others arrived. I reluctantly said yes.)

The party was fun, we had a lot of laughs…….for them, because I found it difficult to be happy, or even to enjoy the party. I tried my best to smile, but I ended up running away to the bathroom a few times. I even tried to puke because the food --- which I loved, since it wasn’t the first time I had dined in that place --- tasted like garbage that made me sick.

Nevertheless, the evening went on, until the inevitable happened. The worst that I expected happened, for reasons that's irrelevant to this story/write-up. Because no matter what, I fucked up, it was my fault. This is my consequence. I wished the world ends right this instant.

(Trigger Warnings: Suicide mentions, Possible Suicidal Ideation from this point on!)

It was over. I have to try being alone. It felt like my whole world had ended. And suicidal feelings would make me look like a coward, even though I thoroughly wished that I suddenly coughed up blood, so;

I wished for the world to just end. The end of the world is the only way I can be freed from my pain, I prayed to God many times to take my life, or to tell me when everything will be better. Yet, those two never came. I was forced to face the storm myself. With no help.

It fucked me up for the rest of 2015. In fact, I spent the tail end of 2015 sobbing and screaming everyday, unable to hold the tremendous amount of grief, and my gradual loss in pleasure from things I've previously enjoyed (sorry, Splatoon... it’s hard to like you again…) was worrying.

I refused to eat food unless it's my favorites, and even then, my favorite foods taste like ashes. I stopped believing in recovery, kindness, friendliness, and anything. I became a nihilistic pessimistic misanthrope. I overspent my money on anime merch as well.

My temper began to worsen, as I often expressed excessive amount of anger and tantrum, and the only way to let it out without harming others was by writing a really fucked up story full of violence……which in itself, still very concerning. Those were the days during July and August of 2015.

When the tears stopped, emptiness would fill my heart. Nothing brought me joy. It’s hard to feel, and I pulled myself away from people. Breakdowns were a normal occurrence during that period. I constantly looked for new interests, to distract myself from the pain, but none worked. To this day, I’m still unsure how I managed to go through all of that without wanting to pull out my hair or dropping everything in life.

In addition, making decisions felt more difficult, I chose my college major out of confusion. My scores flunked, my eyes were full of void and empty. I was melancholic.

Luckily, all storms do eventually end, as December 2015 was the time that I have waited, as I found my sister asking me to watch the Star Wars original trilogy with her. I reluctantly said yes, only to find myself engrossed to everything in it. Though, this is the story that you all know. Star Wars literally saved my life, and I gradually stopped crying. But that wasn’t it.

The real story starts here.

I joined Twitter in January 2016, just to see more Star Wars. There, I get to meet my mutuals, who are cinephiles. My days are gradually getting better. I was able to get back on my own two feet, and the light was finally visible, after so long. I gradually met other great people on twitter and exciting days would ensue in the timeline. The pain of the break-up was pulled from my heart,

But it did not help me to fully recover from the sadness, guilt, and emptiness that day has caused. How that storm would pass is a different story, a story only few knows. This is the story.

I started my college years in July of 2016, exactly a year after “Melancholia” crashed into my life. It started better than I thought. I made friends quickly, enjoyed myself in a new, unfamiliar space. It was much busier, but I feel better in this space. Still, the fear of 2015 repeating itself persists, even though the people of this new space are good people.

What if I have to re-experience the destruction of my world, again?, I asked. And in the middle of the question, a relieving answer to the way out of my pain reveals itself.

Before college started, I found Letterboxd. I was happy that I can finally become one with the cinephiles, and I began to consume more movies. I began to spend my time in Letterboxd, finding what movies I should watch, reading funny one-liners, and looking at recommendations for what people call, the “arthouse” movies.

And in the middle of November of 2016, during my journey finding the “arthouse”, I stumbled upon Melancholia, thanks to the enticing poster. I thought the poster was beautiful, and was an indication that it won’t have stuff like Antichrist (2008) (i will never watch Antichrist, by the way. Say no to self-mutilation!)

Seeing that it is in English, with “geek/nerd-friendly cast”, despite the film’s country of origin.

A Good start, I thought.

So, out of curiosity, I looked it up on Wikipedia, and the plot summary withered me in shock. It was too real for me.

This is how that day went, this is how I felt, everything felt like that. Melancholia.

And with that, I decided to give it a watch, despite the storm of the pain still looms in. It has been one year, and I was ready to face the storm, to calm it, to turn it into a rainbow, if possible. I am finally addressing what happened back then, and is ready to get out of it.

Melancholia centers around Justine getting married, which is supposed to be her happiest day in her life. But when she finally arrived at the Celebration…….she couldn’t bring herself to be happy, at the sight of people who love (Michael, Claire, and Leo), dislike (Wedding Planner, her boss Jack, and to a minor extent, Claire’s husband John), gives zero shit (Justine’s Dad – I don’t know his name), and outright hate her (Gaby).

It sounded familiar…..but it gets worse than that, real quick.

This, coupled with the sight of her uselessly cringe and unfunny dad and her mean-spirited mom showing how they clearly hate each other and don’t care (don’t really care, in her dad’s case) about Justine getting married, plus her overbearing boss STILL pushing her for a work-related bullshit on her WEDDING day, quickly worsen her mood, in a time where NOBODY wants to see her in a negative state, no less.

Everything made it hard for Justine to enjoy her happiest day. She’s trapped in the castle. And eventually her depression, which she tried so hard to hide, would leak into the party, and would ruin the whole night, her job, and her family.

And this rang true to that day. A fun dinner, where people I loved and cherished are all there, in a place that I liked being in, food that I enjoyed…..basically, what should have been one of the happiest days of my life, all fell apart from what’s really inside it. I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy it, while everyone tells me that I should be enjoying the dinner no matter what, and no one wanted to see me in a sour mood.

And yes, my sour mood, complete with my unfiltered sadness doesn’t just annoy everyone……it destroyed the whole evening. My selfish breakdown ruined what was supposed to be a fun evening.

Justine tried to look like she’s enjoying it, hiding her melancholy, although cracks were shown……like, pissing in the golf course, as a possible metaphor of pissing everything in her life. She does eventually enjoy herself during the other events like dancing and cake-cutting, but not for long, as she escapes for a bit to drown her sorrows in the tub for so long, unhappy. And when everything just became meaningless for her, she does the whole fake smile thing too, until Claire sees through it, and accuses her of lying.

”You’re lying to all of us!”

Back to the dinner, I tried to look like I enjoyed myself too. I tried to laugh, joke, and talk about fun stuff. But it was clear that nothing worked. So I took regular bathroom escapes, doing nothing in particular. I felt nothing, because if no one can enjoy my presence, everything becomes meaningless.

I couldn’t follow their joy, their smiles, and whatnot. And my best friend (my ‘Claire’) eventually sees that I lied to everyone. In a situation where I am expected to feel the same thing they do, which was impossible for me, knowing that they don’t want me to emote and yet, demanding me to be happy. It made no sense.

And it was natural for me that the only emotion I can feel is gloom. Because being happy does not make sense, and the grief instantly glooms. Everyone could see through the lies I put up.

”I tried, Claire…”

Just as Justine’s wedding ends up with her leaving from her OWN life, and people leaving her…..essentially destroying her world, that day ended up doing the same for me. Simply put, it’s like seeing through a looking-glass. What was supposed to be a happy celebration left Justine to ashes. Just as a cosmic menace looms. It would bring an end to Justine’s ordeal, as well as my ordeal.

Which brings us to Part 2 of the story, the imminent destruction of Earth, and the lowest point of Justine, as well as the end of her ordeal.

At the start of the second part, it was made clear that Justine looked worse and an even bigger mess than she was in the first part. It is implied that her marriage wasn’t doing well, in addition to her being jobless, as a result of her breakdown towards the asshole boss Jack in the first part. She has nothing that can keep her in company. All she had was her deep depression.

It rang true to me too. For the first few days, it was just me crying my eyes out. But then I grew more numb and emotional, but distant from everyone. I had ALMOST no friends, save from two very great people who kept me alive……though one of them IS my ‘Claire’.

(Cue a paragraph on how my darkest times would’ve been a lot more different if “Melodrama” by Lorde came out at that time)

Justine can’t move, can’t feel, and can’t be bothered with pesky emotions. This was the next step of my grief and depression. After all the tears, there was apathy and numbness.

What struck my heart was the bath scene and the dinner scene…….she couldn’t even enjoy things she loved. This terrified me because I felt exactly like that too. I hated eating, everything tasted like garbage to me. I could not find enjoyment in stuff I like, because it felt tainted from the breakup. Everything looks like filth and garbage to me. Even everyone feels fake. Justine feels this, and the only real thing to her was what came next --- Melancholia.

So, we finally get to see Melancholia itself. Just as Justine begins to completely lose her pleasure. At that point, she can’t even feel joy from horse-riding (poor Abraham…). But at the same time, she found an outlet she can run to, for easing her pain. The Blue Moon became her only ‘friend’.

Really, when you are in your worst, the only solace you’ll find is bad things. I wanted horrifying things to happen. I wanted the world to instantly end. To me, nothing good comes out of life.

The Earth is evil. That was on my mind.

As soon as it was made clear that Melancholia’s here to destroy everything, Claire gets into a panic and wants everything to pass. Now Justine is calm. While I never felt like that (well, back in 2015-16 there was no “earth dying” threats for me to get happy from!), it does mirror my imaginations of that time. I would’ve welcomed an instant destruction of life, because I had nothing left at that time. It is terrifying in hindsight, but it shows on how these conditions can completely affect a person. I was lucky I had a ‘Claire’ at the time, but that wasn’t enough. I needed help.

I wasn’t able to get support because of all the stigma surrounding mental health. I wasn’t able to talk to anyone. I was alone

We need help, we need support. Because we deserve to live happily and wonderfully with everyone, we deserve to feel, taste, and smile. Depression and grief can change a person completely without them wanting it.

I never wanted to feel like Justine back then, but I was at my lowest that it was the only thing i can do. I had zero support, and my own thoughts are all there is. Even back then, I felt that I do not deserve a nice life.

What should I do? How should I feel? When the Earth is this evil?

But I know that Earth isn’t evil. And so does Claire, who knows that this storm is not real. But evidently, it wasn’t. It was total destruction. You either accept, or reject by leaving the Earth.

But in the end, storms pass.

And then Melancholia came. Everything faded to black. No one is spared. That is not a happy ending.

But at the same time, an enormous weight has been lifted. To me, it’s a sign to accept, and continue to live on. I felt much lighter, and it was a big step to my recovery from that day. My plight was a parasitic astronomical waste, and Melancholia crashed into it. This movie rejuvenated me.

While I do know of Lars von Trier being a detestable garbage human being (even before I decided to see this, I already read the shitty things he’s known for) that I hate and am glad that he’s not making movies anymore (Yes, Lars, The House That Jack Built (2019) should definitely be your last film), Melancholia made me realize how portrayals of plight can help me face my own plight. And to not make me feel alone.

People may not agree on the portrayal of depression, and that is valid. Absolutely valid. But to me, everything felt real to what happened to me. From the symptoms and negative effects to Justine’s condition to the people around her was really true to my situation. I hate to say this but Melancholia predicted my 2015 conditions in 2011, and again, it felt like looking through a glass.

But that ‘looking glass’ proved to be helping for me. Seeing a fiction about your condition makes you feel less alone. It made me feel seen.

Even the actors nailed everything. Charlotte Gainsbourg, as I have mentioned before, made my friend realized how terrible everything was to both of us as she (my friend) watched Gainsbourg painstakingly try to stop everything that has spiraled out of her control to plan so she can ensure that the artificial happiness could go well because it is a ritual.

She felt it. And she actually apologized to me for “being exactly like Charlotte’s character” when we saw this movie together!

Some of them (with 2-3 exceptions) on that day acted like Stellan Skarsgard and Kiefer Sutherland, in that I was a disposable business for them, an important business to handle and as soon as I wrecked their business thanks to my emotions, everything fell apart.

While I haven’t gotten the full closure on that day (I will probably never get one, and it’s okay. I don’t think i need one at this point), I feel that what’s important to me is how this supposedly eternal pain that ate me throughout 2015 has been lifted. Yes, there are relapses (at the time of writing in June 2021, I am having relapses about these memories again, but the pain is much, much less painful than in 2015), and I had no professional support nor medications, but this shows how films can be the only thing that comforts you when there’s nothing. I always come back to Melancholia (and Synecdoche, New York (2008)) when I feel terrible, to give me comfort that I am not alone.

Films are not reality, but they are paintings based on reality. And what ‘reality’ it paints is important. My reality of that darkest time was painted clearly. And it helped me to see my reality further.

(However, yes, PLEASE get support if you are having the same issues as mine. Nothing can replace professional help, therapy, and support! Unfortunately, I can’t post resources….as I don’t have support myself)

Melancholia did not cure my condition, but it did brought me out from my darkest place. And since that day, I’ve been ‘escaping’ to sadder and depressing movies as an escape from terrible times. I even made a list of what to watch when I feel bad.

Because when I see suffering in fiction, I feel that I am not alone, and it will eventually pass. Nothing lasts forever.

And my blight did not last forever. I was able to live a ‘new’ life in college and graduating….before my life got taken away again by, well, ‘rona, but that’s a different story.

But in the meantime, we have films. No matter how terrible our lives are, films provides an escape for us, no matter the emotions we have. The Earth isn’t evil, and when it does become evil, there’s a form of escape through films.

I really can’t provide more quotes because it’s hard. So I will end it here. Thank you for reading my thoughts and feelings. But don’t worry about me, I just wanted to get this all out from my system.

Thank you, and may we finally be freed from the Storm of Melancholy, and live in peace with it.

(Music I listened to while writing: “Shelter” by Porter Robinson, “Sober” by Lorde, “brutal” by Olivia Rodrigo, “Angie” by The Rolling Stones, “Sleep” by Typhoon)

#tw: suicidal ideation #tw: suicide mentions #depression #grief #write up

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