A couple of weeks ago I watched Melancholia. It was beautiful and quiet and sort of terrifying. It's still in the back of my mind. I'm depressed. And it feels like that front yard of Justine's in the movie: expansive, but with the potential for something to happen there. A party. A game of badminton. A picnic. But it's empty, and it's been empty for a long time. It keeps raining.
I usually think of it more as the island of me. I'm comfortable here, but I'm alone. Justine's front yard has more hopeful possibilities than the island of me, if you ignore the giant planet heading toward it.
You see, recently I was sort of invited to swim off the island. I did. At first it was nice to be away from the isolation, but then...let's just say I got a cramp and reached out for help that didn't quite come. I guess I grabbed on too tightly and created a struggle. I made it back to my island, but I'm cold and uncomfortable now and nothing's right.
Before, it was just the way it always was on the island. But now I've reminded myself of what I had forgotten: how it could be...should be different. But....
I know some things I should do to move away from here, but I'm stuck in a few ways.
Maybe if I transform my island into an estate's front lawn, I'll fool myself into seeing all the potential my island didn't have.
Or maybe a giant planet will float up and make my queries all moot.