I just watched Feast of Love, and I have to say, although it was at times offensively heterosexist, sexist and supported certain concepts of love and babies that I find abominable, I really enjoyed the film. I think because it did a good job of conveying emotion.
I recommend going only under two circumstances: 1) after you leave the theater, you can go directly and make out with someone you care about, 2) you need to cry
Clearly, I was there by myself at 10:35 pm on a Sunday night, I was going for number two. You know when you're beginning to wonder if you are a robot, and no matter how much you beg your tear ducts to just let go, nothing happens? Well then, this is the movie for you.
I found myself rather in need of just that kind of thing after a) being alive for 20 years, and b) Dylan was crying hysterically that he never wants to grow up and wishes he were young again. I am still sorting out some talking points for our conversation tomorrow. This makes me really sad.
Aside from Dylan, this might sound really lame (but I will say it because I have embraced my blog as a journal of sorts) I am really thankful that I am alive and well. And even though I am not exactly jumping for joy over a few things right now, I am really excited for the way my life is unfolding.
Similar to the way in which a weight lifted from my chest the moment I realized I do not believe in god, I am so happy that I once and for all got rid of the silly notion that things are "meant to be."
How could I ever enjoy the randomness of life if I were convinced it were part of my path? I have said it once and I will say it again--the best things that have ever happened to me were up to chance. My prospects became so much more exhilarating once I owned the fact that everything is up in the air.
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