Sink or Swim

Becoming yourself is a process that never really ends. No matter how far we go, a part of us is still swimming in the same waters we once knew. Human relationships are never that simple. After everything, I feel an overwhelming urge to create something deeply personal something like this.

Becoming yourself is a process that never really ends. No matter how far we go, a part of us is still swimming in the same waters we once knew. Human relationships are never that simple. After everything, I feel an overwhelming urge to create something deeply personal something like this.

I genuinely really enjoyed this I have no clue why……

I genuinely really enjoyed this I have no clue why……

First impressions:I wanted to like it so much, and in many ways, I did find some enjoyment. However, overall, I just felt bored.

More in depth:I don’t think this was made for me, and there’s not much I personally empathize with—but I can absolutely sympathize. The writing is undeniably beautiful, but the visuals didn’t connect with me, and the absence of music only made it feel more distant.

First impressions:I wanted to like it so much, and in many ways, I did find some enjoyment. However, overall, I just felt bored.

More in depth:I don’t think this was made for me, and there’s not much I personally empathize with—but I can absolutely sympathize. The writing is undeniably beautiful, but the visuals didn’t connect with me, and the absence of music only made it feel more distant.

maybe the water moccasins will put me out of my misery; or maybe i'll drown trying to do this. if that happens, will he realize what i wanted to accomplish? will he know i was doing it for his sake

the familiarity of this film has given rise to an ache in my chest—heavy and burning. the relationship i have with my parents, and their separation, feels like a fresh wound despite the passing of time—a perpetual wound that i have to live with for the rest of my life: forever bleeding, forever sensitive to touch, forever inflamed. the pain is chronic. it is something i can almost say i am used to, but still, i wince and cry over it every now and again

sink or swim (1990) makes you look back. it invites you to relive memories that are both yours and not. it is incredible how simple black-and-white images, accompanied by the narration of a young girl, can evoke such powerful, raw emotions—feelings of coldness, detachment, and absence. i see myself in this film and i am heartbroken at the sight of my own reflection

maybe the water moccasins will put me out of my misery; or maybe i'll drown trying to do this. if that happens, will he realize what i wanted to accomplish? will he know i was doing it for his sake

the familiarity of this film has given rise to an ache in my chest—heavy and burning. the relationship i have with my parents, and their separation, feels like a fresh wound despite the passing of time—a perpetual wound that i have to live with for the rest of my life: forever bleeding, forever sensitive to touch, forever inflamed. the pain is chronic. it is something i can almost say i am used to, but still, i wince and cry over it every now and again

sink or swim (1990) makes you look back. it invites you to relive memories that are both yours and not. it is incredible how simple black-and-white images, accompanied by the narration of a young girl, can evoke such powerful, raw emotions—feelings of coldness, detachment, and absence. i see myself in this film and i am heartbroken at the sight of my own reflection

everything lingers and sticks with you until you die and even then it is not really gone

everything lingers and sticks with you until you die and even then it is not really gone