Farwa

I finally watched this after it has been in my list for forever and... *Oh* Childhood has always been something I keep accidentally writing about. How the world changes around you. Sometimes it patiently waits for you to grow older before asking impossible things of you, and sometimes it doesn't wait at all. Sometimes it places the unbearable into hands that are still too small to carry it. This film felt bittersweet, thought-provoking and sweet enough to make you smile, sad enough to make that smile ache. Also it's funny and strange in a coincidental way that I stayed up last night writing about childhood and the quiet ways it gets worn away. So while I was watching this, my own words kept tapping me on the shoulder like, ***"Um... remember me?" 😭 *** The piece is far too long to dump into a Letterboxd review* (and I think future me would die of embarrassment if I actually did), *but there was one paragraph that I feel like should be here and it says: > We pretend we have grown up. We put on suits like shrouds and wear stoicism like an iron mask. But the disguise is thin, and the child underneath is always clawing at the seams. We walk among the living with dead eyes, pretending we don't feel the small, cold hand reaching up from inside our throat. It isn't trying to speak anymore. It's just trying to choke us on all the tears we refused to spill. And I think that's why I felt this inside my limbs. It reminds us that growing older isn't the same as leaving childhood behind. Somewhere beneath the bills, the grief, the routines, and all the ways the world teaches us to harden, there is still a child who gets excited to tell someone a fun fact, who laughs too hard at silly things, who still wants to be chosen, understood, and walked home before it gets dark.

Creepy and a genius concept

Isn't being loved just being known? Like someone knowing all your weird habits, embarrassing thoughts, unnecessary sandwich modifications, and somehow deciding,* "Yeah. That's my person."?? * That's terrifying. Unreal as if non existent.

Hauntingly beautiful. But tell me, isn't human life just another endless race against time? We are born, we create, we love, we lose, we spend our precious little moments chasing things that will remain after we are gone. We build entire world, yet we forget to notice its beauty. *Between the life we are busy creating and the life we are actually living, do we ever truly exist?*