Mostly? I think Dave was right. In the end, it all piles up to one big nothing.
How I seem to occasionally get the little things right. And perhaps how life is made up of little things rather than really big things. But also how the big things are the things I’ve messed up. Not you. Not them. But this. And how big things overshadow all the little things, regardless of their luster.
The resignation I see inside. Having to live under what I’ve done. How hope is a fragile and dangerous thing. I heard that in a movie once. Things worked out for Red. He got his boat and his ocean and his friend back. His life back.
I see mountains, not molehills. Dense fog all day long. Everywhere. Ubiquitous. I looked that word up, to make sure it fit here, and found a quote from Joseph Heller, about how a character in a book of his I’ll assume “plodded through the shadows fruitlessly like an ubiquitous spook.” I’ve not read any Heller, so I don’t have any context. For that matter, I’ve never read the Kabbalah either. But the quotes seem to apply to where my head is at.
I do this. Look for meaning. Context. Something which the narrator of my life can say at just the right moment, with an orchestral swell, that will cue the audience to “feel this, right here.” Maybe they’ll shed a tear at the epicosity of it all. The failures and the triumphs. The crescendo. The a-ha moment when it all comes together.
Like that scene at the end of Lost in Yonkers. When Bella literally leaves it all behind. When she finally sees her world as it really is and finds the courage to wash her hands of it all. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that one, but it haunts me just the same. How she knows there is a way for things to be that is just below the surface of the way things are. She can see it but it’s out of reach. But then how she sees that it’s not always supposed to be the way you see it. Maybe there are alternatives. Hard choices. But that in the end lead down the street to a new life. A different view.
That’s how it hit me anyway. And now I wonder if I’m right. If I watch it again will I feel the same way. Or will I just cry. Knowing I’m not as courageous as the Bella in my head. To have made different choices and found peace.
My life. A movie. How stupid. No wonder I mess things up. There is no Oscar moment. No credits to roll to some inspirational melody. Just each and every moment, piled up to one big nothing . . .