Crashbox

I have confessions...I must speak, for my soul is bleeding.I just watched M. Knight Shyamalyn's The Village. You may say what you like about the plot and it's strength or weakness, or whether the movie seems to push communism, or whatever; but one thing I will say is that it captures something in me so well that I sit and can't stop thinking. Something elusive and mysterious---it is tremendously romantic not in the 'girl-boy' sort of way, but in a more universal, and deeply human sense. Your heart is strangely affected when the Park Ranger sees a blind and muddy young girl drop over the fence and ask tearfully but genuinely for help; and it's not because she is attractive or because the situation is desparate or any of that: it is a simple and effective reminder of human searching and loneliness. In the end we are all alone, and we long for that which we are not: to fade into the mist like the mist itself; to draw yourself on a piece of paper so everyone can see you and wonder---but you are not there; to long and to cry and to love with all your heart something that is too big for you...and always the longing, almost desparete at times, but a pain that is dear and lovely just the same. And now I think too much and it is too late at night for me to go on...