The other day I went to see a movie. I remembered the ease and the attraction of a dark theater and moving colors on a screen the size of the wall. This specific movie reminded me how to feel emotion that was powerful and not terrifying. It reminded me of what it felt like to evoke this emotion in others. I hoped that the writer of this movie was proud of it. The screen writer was Jesse somebody. I then realized it was based off of a book that this Jesse had also written. I then had the crazy thought that I was a writer as well and maybe one day I would be writing books that would be adapted into films.
I went to this movie by myself because the man I was dating was busy. I was happy that I got to experience this movie alone. It reacquainted me with the Taylor that is driven.
Driven is an interesting term. When you drive you have a particular direction. A single direction has never been my strength.
I really enjoy driving my dirty station wagon. It is a time I don’t need to worry about anything. Focus on the road. On the moist air, rolling through your open windows, kissing your sun burnt skin.
It is the time I use to imagine my life and make plans to make the imagined, reality.
However, driving is very different from driven. There is a sense of urgency in driven.
And so this movie that evoked emotion with the subtleties of human dialogue and stop motion animation played in front of me for a little over 2 hours. I sat in the dark theater until the credits ended and I cried. I was one of two people in the theater. They sniffled behind me as I sniffled in front of them. We both left the theater wanting to say something to the other, but unsure of what that something would be, we parted in silence.
I cried more in my station wagon. And then I drove home. I did not turn on the radio. I rolled down the windows and allowed the moist night air to kiss my sun burnt skin.