When a dream shatters it makes no noise, when a heart breaks there is silence, a scream that pierces the silent night sobs itself to sleep, a relationship drawing its last breath, sobbing alone, the two people walking on different roads.....
I went to see a film today, I went to cheer myself up, low as I was feeling. After a while in life, you can sense when something is changing, you sense when tides change the winds change directions. What I saw, bought my stuffed up emotions from their hiding places and poured out through my eyes. The hunger to leave a footprint in the sands of time, the fire that burns in you and you mistake as yourself. I dreamt of the tinsel town since I was very young. I worked my way into theatre and then assisting big names. I got disillusioned pretty soon by the emergencies of every day, everything was required two days ago. Direction, acting and pretty soon after some 5 stories of mine got ripped ,stolen with writing too. The fire burnt low after that. The world I had dreamt off made of passionate people wanting to create turned out to be filled with people more interested in making money that creativity , people trying hard to hold onto to their chairs, big words that sounded hollow, no passion but loud over dressed people trying to sound important, egos larger than their bellies, louder than the gaudy make up...
I saw the changing men, the same relationship, the youth allows you to get over several heart breaks, but as you age the silence of the night cuts through your heart like a knife. As I watched the film, though there were few similarities to my life, the journey seemed the same, and life became a swivel door, when one out, another came in, many touch your body, none touches your heart....
I know the pain when a parent seems to say to you, you failed me, I'm ashamed, it may be due to sleazy movies or a divorce, the pain is far worse than any man turning away from you... when the few handful of people who you have a large hand in shaping forget as their good times come, forget you like a dream from the previous night....
I watched Dirty Picture and I wept... I know I was lucky to have not led her life, I know I resisted the temptation to end it all, I know how it feels to fall from grace, I know I was luckier in my choice of men, I know the loneliness, i know when cigarette becomes your only companion...I know the situations were very different, I have nothing in common with you , yet we're both women " silk" ( real or fictitious) who brought change before the world was ready, we both thought our strength wouldn't give way, we both thought we didn't care about what people thought, today I can afford to still think that, I have my Abraham by my side, I'm sorry you couldn't...
Pain is good, pain brings out a depth in any artiste, pain makes you a better or a bitter person. Without pain their would be no poems or literature, the paintings would evoke no passion, an artiste' blessing and curse is the same, pain in the heart. I blessed my pain, made it my teacher, today as my pain came pouring out watching the film I rushed home to write this piece .pain is precious, it the one common denominator, the great equalizer in this world, this is one things even God is democratic or lets say a communist about, he distributes it equally.....I wish you'd lived on.... I wish you continued to fight, I wish instead of pity I felt admiration for you "silk" because that is what you deserved....
I went to see a film today, I went to cheer myself up, low as I was feeling. After a while in life, you can sense when something is changing, you sense when tides change the winds change directions. What I saw, bought my stuffed up emotions from their hiding places and poured out through my eyes. The hunger to leave a footprint in the sands of time, the fire that burns in you and you mistake as yourself. I dreamt of the tinsel town since I was very young. I worked my way into theatre and then assisting big names. I got disillusioned pretty soon by the emergencies of every day, everything was required two days ago. Direction, acting and pretty soon after some 5 stories of mine got ripped ,stolen with writing too. The fire burnt low after that. The world I had dreamt off made of passionate people wanting to create turned out to be filled with people more interested in making money that creativity , people trying hard to hold onto to their chairs, big words that sounded hollow, no passion but loud over dressed people trying to sound important, egos larger than their bellies, louder than the gaudy make up...
I saw the changing men, the same relationship, the youth allows you to get over several heart breaks, but as you age the silence of the night cuts through your heart like a knife. As I watched the film, though there were few similarities to my life, the journey seemed the same, and life became a swivel door, when one out, another came in, many touch your body, none touches your heart....
I know the pain when a parent seems to say to you, you failed me, I'm ashamed, it may be due to sleazy movies or a divorce, the pain is far worse than any man turning away from you... when the few handful of people who you have a large hand in shaping forget as their good times come, forget you like a dream from the previous night....
I watched Dirty Picture and I wept... I know I was lucky to have not led her life, I know I resisted the temptation to end it all, I know how it feels to fall from grace, I know I was luckier in my choice of men, I know the loneliness, i know when cigarette becomes your only companion...I know the situations were very different, I have nothing in common with you , yet we're both women " silk" ( real or fictitious) who brought change before the world was ready, we both thought our strength wouldn't give way, we both thought we didn't care about what people thought, today I can afford to still think that, I have my Abraham by my side, I'm sorry you couldn't...
Pain is good, pain brings out a depth in any artiste, pain makes you a better or a bitter person. Without pain their would be no poems or literature, the paintings would evoke no passion, an artiste' blessing and curse is the same, pain in the heart. I blessed my pain, made it my teacher, today as my pain came pouring out watching the film I rushed home to write this piece .pain is precious, it the one common denominator, the great equalizer in this world, this is one things even God is democratic or lets say a communist about, he distributes it equally.....I wish you'd lived on.... I wish you continued to fight, I wish instead of pity I felt admiration for you "silk" because that is what you deserved....
The silk worm is oblivious to its painful future , when it builds itself a cocoon to metamorphose . Silk, itself is a fabric that has pain woven into every yarn ... god did not design that to be ... but nevertheless it is ... so if the best of fabrics are a product of pain .. so is ART ... A very emotionally thick piece which make one believe that pain is progress , be it the mind, the soul and the body ... a divinely channeled passage
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