Bad dream

     Starting with the front of my mind, drowning out large portions of the day. 

Sleep is interrupted by a melting parking lot near a brick church. Something is so close, anxiety breaks. 

"I never want to let this go."

     Muddied, disfigured, the concrete melts away. A forest grows tall in it's place. A bench is orphaned on top a hill looking down at a lake. An old man's voice penetrates all thought. His question lingers in the air. His eyes, disappointed, glare through me. 

"Where are you going?"

     I struggle to find a word, any word to combat his gaze, but nothing comes. Futility overwhelms my core. I failed and lost everything. The forest is caged by three fences. Climbing all of them. A coffee shop, a park guard, and a swing. 

"I hated all of it!"

     I can never stop those words from falling out of my mouth. I relive this moment again and again, only to arrive just to watch myself puke out my emotions over a hungover mess lying weakly in bed. I want to take it back, but I am always too late. 

Fries find their way into trash bin just outside a hotel suite. 

A bench by the river.

A game of pool at a housewarming party.

Then I wake. Haunted.

I think dreams are unanswered questions. lingering thoughts that were never resolved. The brain recalls and relives the complex equations, searching for their solution. What if one never comes? Am I forced to relive the same four memories until my memory gives? 

Dreams suck. 

Thoughts while editing hours of footage

     I love watching the subtle quirks of a person. Their hand gestures, or the pausing words like Um, Uh, and Yeahh, the glance upward when trying to quickly recall a thought as though they were being timed. Something you don't often notice but a gem when working in video.
     The answers, most commonly practiced are the ones that tend to surface. When working through an interview I often wander how much is true and how much had been skewed by time and perception. Memory is a fickle thing. My closest friends are always catching my false memories.

     What would happen if you got to relive some of those favored or feared memories? Would it play out like it has a thousand times over in your mind?
     Would it be anything close to what we remember?

Life goes.

Those words sit safely on the seat next to me, waiting to be pushed onward.

My chest thumps loudly.

I never know which way to go on these open roads, so I go where I want and make a million mistakes on my way.

I may never get a chance at this again, so I might as well go with all the might that I possess.

I'll be slow at first,

but I know I've got a million more mistakes to make before I get this right.

Seeking

Falling asleep. I can barely keep my eyes open. Drudging through three feet of snow for two days now. My legs have accustomed themselves to the constant aching. My shoulders slouch to the weight of my pack hugging my back. I have been searching this mountain so long all the terrain has melted together. White snow and frosted trees blend together in a blinding fashion. The excitement and expectation of all this trip had to offer has faded into a dying ember of hope. Still, my feet wade through the frozen ocean in rhythm.


I am interested in your eyes.
     
        I want to see your soul.

I want to glimpse into what makes you, what moves you, what pulls you.
   That is what excites me.

I want to know what you dream about,
      what you say when no one is listening,
what you think about just before you fall asleep.

I want to know that you can stand on your own.
That you are not afraid of death,
                                              or life.


The light touches the horizon, stretching it's hands across the sky. Fatigue brings me to a pause. The warmth of the sun is diminished as dusk arrives. Camp is made, a fire is built. My heart is filled with an old melody, a nightly hymn to warm my soul. The stars pick up the tune, and I fall asleep to the voices of the night sky.

She is out there, somewhere, but she is not what I am searching for.

Inspiration

Good morning world
It is four am where I am sitting. Here are some videos that I find inspiration from:

Wes Anderson's Castello Cavalcanti

Spike Jonze's I'm Here:

Thomas Blanchard's Pi:

Wes Anderson's Hotel Chevalier: