Elliyah

this is why timothee chalamet hates ballet

* maybe it’s simply the monsters under our beds. * but sometimes, it’s far greater than that. something far bigger within. i think what terrified me so much about this film is that the world would always crucify you for what you do and never forgive you for what you don’t. hoshikawa committed arson but never stood up against his father. minato made this mess but never spoke up. *what defines being a monster then? *in all the characters’ perspective, there’s a different monster yet a jarringly same ache that scars the lining of their palms. however, one thing’s for sure. we lie because we’re afraid that it will hear us, that its claws will slowly unravel what we keep. * the brass becoming louder. the storm getting stronger. the steps always faster.* could we really silence who we are? there is peace in the loudness of it all, in unleashing what is not meant to be silenced in the first place. because we have to apologize even before we know what a sin is. we have to fight back even before we know how to stand still. we have to lie about who we are before we even know what we are. but at the end, just like two boys running along a blocked railroad, we can always just go and accept the loudness inside. because it’s an evidence that we’re not hollow, that something really is in there. maybe the monster under our beds is the beat of a heart that we’ve always known the existence of, and that’s why we fear it. because it has always been there. loud and completely human. it knows it’s there. it knows itself. *reach out to the monster under your bed. hold its hand. set it free. * happy pride month!

ito ang up fantasy ko