Magnolia

Magnolia is everything; it is painful and beautiful. We are filled with the insane mortality; not just the fact that we are human beings. But what really makes us mortal is our grief, pain, suffering, regret, shame, identity, hope, death, and change. It's these things that we run from, it's the ugly scar we live with, but we can't surgically remove it. The only thing that can make it cleaner, is forgiveness. Forgiving ourselves, forgiving the people who did dumb things that were not by coincidence; It is our brains way of telling us that there is more to live for, that pain is the antithesis of life, and it will kill us to leave it buried deep inside our fragile bodies; Because these emotions are so beautiful, and sometimes they're too painful to keep. I've thought about Magnolia for quite a while. Crying, overwhelmed by the reality that I can cry, pondering over the reasons as to why I'm here, and what did I do to deserve all this. Why do I run from a past I can't see properly, why is the most beautiful miracle the most unfathomably painful thing that I've ever known. Why do I get so fucking mad at people sometimes, and just keep this frenzy inside only for it to slip out and hurt the people that I love. I don't know who I am anymore, but I just know that being human shouldn't feel like this. An almost unbearable melancholic puncture, that comes like a wave. And when it's high tide, I feel so lost. It lasts weeks, and months. I feel ashamed, like something bad happened from a past I can't remember. I feel like there's something wrong with me, and I'm fine with being vulnerable and trying to take an understanding of anything. It's this mortality that is sewn into my brain; my past, and my future. I'm as optimistic as I am cynical, and I feel regret every time I mess up. It's like a mensual see-saw. Every time I'm confused about myself and conformed to something I'm not. I feel so bad about the things I've said to people. It's a lot, and sometimes it feels like too much. Sometimes I feel like God's experiment and it hurts so bad. Magnolia touches on many things. But what really hit me the most was it's effectiveness at conveying identity. Who are we? Who am I? It's not by coincidence. I feel so confused about myself. Like hey I've never really had a deep thing for a girl or a boy, what is wrong with me and why don't I do what everyone else does. Am I meant to smell the perfume that everyone tells me that I'll smell, eventually, and it's the best thing you'll ever experience. Love. I just can't smell it, time and time again I hurt over the dubiety of this force that everyone talks about, and I regret trying to conform to things I don't even know are there. I have to try and accept and forgive this boy, because he loves so, so much. But it hurts him more to try and love, than to really love. I think I hurt so much, because the raw inner aromantic inside of me screams time and time again, every time I conform to something that ends up being nothing. I try and confuse myself, thinking that this conformity is where happiness lies. I'm okay with being plutonic with people, I love that the most. And I'll try and accept this feeling, this identity, this sexuality, these complete opposite feelings of manic hate and overwhelming sadness. That is the regret I live with, conformity. I'm okay with being me, even if I don't know what that is yet. I always do this. It's a little corny, I know. I like to reflect and sympathize through cinema, it's my little mirror on my screen. I think that a film that is powerful enough to evoke introspection, and bring fourth deep rooted feelings and ideas should be cherished heavily..