Yet another movie I finished watching a moment back. Tears know how to flow alone, so I washed them off my face. Still, a tear or two rolled down my cheek.
I was losing myself to depression starting from living with unbearable cramps to breaking into repeat fits. Reasons are just excuses; hence being restrictive with those.
It was only a movie suggestion. I had let it skim down for the sometime… till one day, I felt the urgency to find out about what was suggested. I was waiting to know the person better, if not very well, to accept the offered suggestion. The last time the offer and acceptance role was played; it changed my course of life. I needed it, it was offered to me. A stage was set for me to be able to step up to enact my play. That was the first time too.
I was offered to become the author of my biography.
The previous one I entered into my personal favorite list was The Lakehouse: a love-story being played at two different time-zones simultaneously to cheat death and collide to bring about a happy ending at the last crossover. The Fountain was linked at several places across three different timezones reminding us to let go and live at peace with death. Although the movie had ended with death in bold letters; yet, a certain amount of rewriting -after the story within the movie was over- infused a warm feeling.
A big chunk of my life has to die and get buried. I’m standing at the threshold of a new beginning, watching the stale branches getting pruned. I feel I’m being sized down; for once those episodes are concluded; many years would draw a blank. A certain part of me will die along perhaps or so I’m feeling. Memory of the events may not fade; some would continue to live with me bearing a scar on my skin too; but for now, I see the participants drifting away from the spotlight. I am witnessing the curtains being drawn!
I am pulling the string.
The movie wasn’t about death alone. I felt a push to let go and instead hope. Changing a certain course of action maybe possible if not easily attainable; yet, accepting that loss with hopes intact will take life forward.
If being a woman you ever went bald at some time by choice, you must know how it felt when you realized it’s grown long. As a kid your excitement was well placed while fixing a clip in your hair; but unparallel to how you had felt taking those clips out from the closet. You had forgotten how beautiful your tresses were and then one day, it needed styling and that’s when you realized how beautiful your hair is. You maybe mundanely combing to clip them and that’s when the mirror did its reflection trick. It had showed a vision you had forgotten about- out of choice. This is what is depressing me. That I did go bald only helped me write the metaphor.
I am at a loss of words about how The Fountain didn’t end on a sad note. The movie being suggested by the person who inadvertently let me take hold of my life again; I take that as an indication. If not across different time zones; however, I felt tugged by a few time-periods all at the same time while writing this post. The cause of depression isn’t lost still. I need to let a few things bid adieu now. This is not the end of life- neither could the previous losses bring any; nor would the overdue death of a bunch of characters. If at all, I need to raise my hopes.
About the love-story: Instead of till death do us apart, I say, we’ll unite forever in death.
P.S.: Given the fact I write when it’s over, I believe I am not depressed anymore. I’m adhering to yet another suggestion; though practicing on my own since a few weeks unknowingly. I have been up for almost 24hrs now, will crash for 6 hours so I wake up a new person. I’ll cheat and play dead for a couple of extra hours 😛
Olivia's life instances... 