Who am I? Do you know me? Have we met? In real life? In passing? Have we hung out together? Have you read things I’ve written? Do you know me? Am I the me that you thought I’d me? Am I the me that I think I am? Want to be?
There are no perfect circles in nature, but a thick outline will make it seem perfect.
Maybe because it’s spring but I’ve seen at least a half dozen people post online recently “I want to run away from it all.” I get angry when I read that. Who are you to abandon your responsibilities? Your friends? Me? Do you think I don’t want to run away too? Things would be easier if life had granular control. Running away from things that are dreary, shutting down on things that are hard, following along with things that mollify. Is life something that you can permit in piecemeal, instead of something that you have to live?
Everyone wants to be the flower but not the vase.
Noriko’s Dinner Table, the sequel/prequel to the buckets of blood flick Suicide Club, is billed as a horror but there’s really no more than 5 minutes of gore in this 2 hour and 40 minute movie. In many ways it’s a darker, externalistic version of the romantic, introspective Lost In Translation. Both movies ask “Who am I? What does my life mean?”
She came to Tokyo to be happy, but I knew she’d transcend it.
For a film made in 2004, it speaks to a modern alienation (technological or otherwise). The push/pull that comes with developing seemingly close but ultimately intangible connections with people either across the country or across the dinner table. It’s a stark movie that layers upon itself leaving you questioning the ephemeral nature inherent to all relationships. Talking doesn’t mean you’re communicating, staying doesn’t mean you’re content, and running doesn’t mean you’re blissful.
Your heart is a small glass, if you pour too much emotion into it tears will spill out.