Garden State is one of my favorite films. Arguably, it should be one of everyone's favorite films. The soundtrack alone could really drive a good evening into a good morning into the afternoon. Sure, it has it's moments of theatrical Hollywood nonsense that will, most certainly, creep it's ugly way into every flick made from here on out. In the end though, moments exist in this film that allow the watcher to feel connected and understand the goings-on of life just a little clearer or less clear, as the case may be.
"You're in it right now." Shutters. Goose bumps. Reality hitting the walls of the mind that one attempts so cleverly to vail. This line alone. And that, my friends, is how movies are made.
Although I could sit on my stool and scribe an entire blog about my endless love for gs, the truth is, this one line, this one piece of script, is what jumps to mind this evening as I attempt to put into words what the grey matter swarming around is computing.
Cannot compute. Error Message. Little yellow, annoying exclamation point. Yes to all of the above.
I am not certain if I am so "in it" that I cannot see the forest for the trees or if I am so not invested in it that my mind (and little beating heart) refuse to attempt to see anything past the point of my little lopsided nose. (It really is lopsided...take a look next time you're face to face with the Lizzy B).
So good to be back in Florida although leaving my family and friends was difficult, I came back knowing that this was home and threw myself head first into making that notion a fact. Honesty. Is it really that difficult? Are we a people that have become incapable of just speaking what is truth? Are we a people that thrive so insanely on the feeling of presenting our feathers, all beautiful and vibrant in color that we do not dare admit that the humidity is doing a number and ruffling the hell out of our beauty?
I am in a place of duality. I stand, firmly, in a place of a split heart. You know...the hearts that we drew when we were in middle school and some little meany made us angry. If I were a betting woman, I would say I am one or two weeks away from screen-printing a split heart on a t-shirt and screaming my story at the top of my lungs to innocent passers-by who dare to ask what message t "means."
Because if I were to stand on a street corner and purge forth the reason for the screen-printing extravagance...it would be honest. At least it would be honest.
Lady is hungry for some honesty.
A good trip home. A safe place. A place surrounded with love. Palpable. Real. Honest. Love.
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