Write/Speak/Paint/Shoot/Print
Ask me anything
Ask me anything
This is a beautiful film built of only the most honest parts.
Y tu mamá también (Mexico, 2001)
A Dash of Accelerant
Tres
This is the part of the story where the hero stares into the mirror. He examines the cracks in his fading skin, the sallow glare of age. He feels it sinking into his bones, this cruel mortality. He puts the bottle down. He frees it from its servitude for but a second. If it were a child, it would scream, plead to be reunited with its master, its mother, its home. His grip, his maw, his gullet, his ravaged brain.
His fingernails are black with the soot of night, the dirt of a poor life. He carries the soil of sorrow in the fissures of his fingers. His eyes are sunken, rimmed with darkness. He wipes his sad paw on that taunting reflection, the prankish counterfeit before him. This is not how this was supposed to turn out, he wants to say, he wants to scream, he wants to be his rallying cry as his weakness flows forth in the form of some variation of strength. He wants to breaks that sneering son of a bitch, the lips, torn as they are, that mock his collapse. All he manages to do is transfer his filth to the glass. Over his eyes. Over the only honest part of him. He doesn’t have to look away now. He can pretend the duplicated room holds a man worth his weight in love. As it stands, it only holds a faker, a caricature of a human being.
He is a creature. A monster born from the bottom and blessed with the tendencies of assimilation. There is no sign of the coldness he carries. There is nothing to indicate that he has never felt for anything. Almost anything save for his obsessive affair with truth. With knowledge. This is a game of odds and only in the implied victory of verity could one topple the house. This is to say that his struggle has been pure but it also must be uttered that it has also been futile. He was never going to win. He could see that now. No one really wins, not really. No one manages to trick death. Nobody pulls a fast one on oblivion.
Erin L. M. McGuire | http://behance.net/erindesign
I’m a young graphic designer from Canada trying to build my portfolio and get out into the world of design. My dreams and goals are huge but my passion is even bigger.
#57: Dark City
I saw this movie six times in the theater. By myself. At the time, it was one of the most audacious things I had ever witnessed. To this day, it stands as one of the greatest sci-fi movies ever made. Alex Proyas has since become an industry hack but this remains as his greatest contribution to the cinema.
(Source: thetvscreen)
