About ghosts, I said, it seems we’re at a bit of an impasse. It’s less about what I believe and more about what I claim to understand. STOP! For gods sakes, speak plainly. Honestly, i’m sick of the way you talk. Well, sure. I mean, yes, I am sure. Sure that you are. Truly, unremarkably, I am an unsure person. However, while you tediously, perpetually, seemingly inscrutably, constantly remind me of this fact, it has no bearing on our friendship. Much less our conversation about ghosts. Listen. Do you believe in ghosts or not? … Well first, I — NO! NO! SHUT UP. SHUT UP. NO. I don’t need your history. I know your history. Quit dancing around the question and answer it, do you believe in ghosts or don’t you! … I’m
sorry, he said. No. I understand. If it’s clarity you need then I will try my utmost. I breathed a deep sigh.
Such a simple word; ‘no’. But as it spilled out of my mouth i felt an array of history. Rich, true, and honest, history. Untenably my own. No, I continued, I cannot bring myself to believe in ghosts. I do however– please, allow me to entertain my own thoughts … I do however recognize a ghost’s existence as necessary. And it is because I see its existence as necessary that I choose to live in unity with the ghost that I may not see, may not know, and may not believe.
i’m 25 years old, born in June, and i’ve experienced 24 Christmases in Arizona. this year Christmas will be in Ukraine. i don’t know how to say it; i’m nervous. Arizona isn’t the place you think of when you imagine a perfect Christmas but for me it is. for me it is the only place to have Christmas.
these words might only have an affect on those who experienced Christmas in Arizona but for a moment put yourself into this place.
for the past 4 years, each year, on Christmas Eve I would go for a drive. i would drive through the desert hills where the roads rise and fall in elevation. the cold air settles in the sand of the desert to where you can feel a gasp of cold air in every dip of the road. with the windows down this is the shock of cold i came out driving for. i drive back and forth on the same road and the whole time i’m listening to this song; ‘switzerland’. the ebb and flow of the accordion gives the road a new character.
moments like this have made Christmas a time for me to meditate and soak up my mirrored love for life and art colliding.
this Christmas Eve i will miss driving, i will miss the cold desert air, and i will miss this Arizona Christmas.
sad boy Shia LeBeouf was nobody’s friend in 2013 when Charlie Countryman was released, and the film paid for it. reviews destroyed the film citing LeBeouf as a pretentious wannabe who needlessly went over the top taking LSD on set and losing control for a role that ultimately amounted to nothing. and sure, they might be right. the film is a megalomania with over the top characters, a self-indulgent plot line, and pacing that goes from a Guy Ritchie caricature to a melancholic dreamscape. but that’s the whole point.
i loved this film. the color-grading is loud, the soundtrack feels like a character in itself, and the pacing feels gives room to breath only when it’s possible for the main character to do so. i enjoy any film that can take me on a ride without missing a beat. the cast in this film are incredible and each character, knowing it’s place, steps in and out of the spotlight with something new to offer the main character. and now, six years after the controversy has subsided, Shia LeBeouf deserves recognition for lending a fresh take on the frankly overdone melancholic main character of an indie film. in Charlie Countryman he’s unhinged, confident, and tastefully unrealistic. his over-the-top acting fits the tone of the film exceptionally and does nothing to overstep his role.
i was reading in a car catching words by each streetlight the words were spaced too far apart i nearly quit when i had a thought what order of letters got me here my primal form is no Shakespeare and i know you think this is nothing new to think about life as more than something to do but if it’s just words then i feel free to say that i don’t really care about my birthday so if i could act on any thought would my faith be less distraught i gave it a chance and i found the end there’s no life in lifeless ends
if this car stopped i could read my book and catch the words at one time by now the metaphor is getting old life is change and that’s not so bold i feel the culmination of grief in my young life and a raging ache behind each blue eye an anonymous person says, ‘are you okay?’ i said i’m fine and that was true but i wish there was more that i could do so why don’t i do it you could say but first i should eat before i rot away
God is good and that’s all great but i miss his voice if that’s okay