时间、时间和时间。。。

Synecdoche, New York

What was once before you - an exciting, mysterious future - is now behind you. Lived; understood; disappointing. You realize you are not special. You have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone's experience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter. Everyone's everyone. So you are Adele, Hazel, Claire, Olive. You are Ellen. All her meager sadnesses are yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. It's yours. It is time for you to understand this.

As the people who adore you stop adoring you; as they die; as they move on; as you shed them; as you shed your beauty; your youth; as the world forgets you; as you recognize your transience; as you begin to lose your characteristics one by one; as you learn there is no-one watching you, and there never was, you think only about driving - not coming from any place; not arriving any place. Just driving, counting off time. Now you are here, at 7:43. Now you are here, at 7:44. Now you are...

Gone.

Travel the Road

"If you must choose between being eclectic and various or being repetitious and boring, be repetitious and boring." -Richard Hugo, The Triggering Town

So I went to watch Rango a second time this evening, all for one particular scene which happened near the end of the movie, where Rango is banished from town and he goes back to where he started from. He comes upon the expressway that splits the land into two, with cars passing in both directions mercilessly fast. With nothing left to believe in, he steps out onto the highway and walks to his certain death. The cars and trucks pass above him - a little lizard finding his way across, finding himself - without stopping or swerving to avoid him.

Like a miracle Rango crosses the highway, collapses, and wakes in the day to find himself in the presence of the Spirit of the West, who gives him one damn good advice:

"No man can walk out of his own story."

I cried.