I’m filling up my new journal pages with some speed, page after page. I am in one of those moods where I can’t stop writing. usually a journal lasts eight to ten months, depending how much I write during the summer because that’s when I seem to write the least. but now. my handwriting is significantly smaller and the lines are more pressed together. I noticed my handwriting adjusts according to the lines on paper (I’ve always hated the examination booklets!) and now I am not using any. my words are crushed into each other, pressed together, getting smaller and smaller with each sentence. trying to disappear. I am trying to disappear. I still haven’t learned the opposite of disappearing. the history of love.
last night I watched candy after many years of waiting for the dvd to get cheaper. I still miss heath ledger. I remember the week he died everyone in my school fell into a severe depression. australian pride. the film itself is incredible. it goes onto the list next to trainspotting, christianne f. and requiem for a dream. last night we ate out, at the turkish restaurant. spinach, pita bread, wine leaves stuffed with feta cheese. the smell of home. a glass of sangria. craving a shisha.
I didn’t feel like going home so I went for a short walk, ended up at my cinema and the kubrick bookstore. just before the closing. I found a book on tarkovsky’s cinema. a whole chapter dedicated to the opening scenes of solaris and the mirror. I got lost in thought as I browsed through the pictures, words dancing before my eyes. everything appeared out of focus, blurred. a guy put his hand on my shoulder; we’re closing soon. I walked home in the dark, smells from the fruit market just a block away hanging in the air. I thought of the night we met.
March 4, 2011