I just watched "Igby goes down". I bought it at a video store for 2.95 as a used vhs rental. It's almost as cheap as renting it. I won't bore with the details except the ending. Igby's mother is played by Susan Sarandon. She has cancer in the movie and her oldest son assists her suicide. Igby is the younger son. He realizes too late that he should of apologized to her before she died. He becomes distraught. I didn't realize that this was going to take place.
The day my mother died I didn't get really really upset. I guess it was shock. I had tried to prepare myself because it was getting close leading up to it. I watched Igby break down and I fell apart too. I hadn't conciously thought about guilt and my mom. I guess I do feel guilty. I know I should of spent more time with her that last year. I made excuses as why I could only stay for short visits. It's sad thinking back now at how selfish I was. She was suffering so much and I couldn't stay with her long. I respect how much my dad committed to her that last year.
I wrote the title of this post, "A life in moving pictures". I must be pretty dysfunctional. It takes movies and television shows to get me to write about these fucked up feelings I have. It was so much easier when I drank. I could just try and numb it. I remember now, that didn't work either. I would get really drunk and then watch "Ordinary People" or "Prince of Tides". I would break down of course and the steam would be relased for awhile. I always internalize. Deny the pain I am feeling. I must be pretty narcisstic in writing all this shit down. I could only be so lucky that no one reads this.
A life in moving pictures
I really don't mind being alone
The moments pass in my simple control
A multitude of mundane decisions easy
Better than asking anothers opinion
Celluoid snapshots fluttering past
A life in moving pictures
Surround sound choked sobs
Are the moments when it's empty
The understanding and comfort are lacking
Who is going to wipe the tears?
peace
dumbdavid
No comments:
Post a Comment