So Rick and Kate have been in love for quite some time. They look like English characters in a French movie. Some shyness on the first scenes, too much perfection in the middle chapters, a lot of drama by the last ones. An extraordinary soundtrack, rightly chosen among indie musicians. Deep feelings all over the screenplay. Dialogs written in strong words, an exchange of thoughts hard to understand. They met on a spring night, fell on each-other’s arms on a park bench, made love in the sweetest way every time. They held hands in small concerts, beautiful theatre plays and while walking through the narrow streets of their city. They embarked on a dream of togetherness and seemed ready to change some of their deepest convictions, in a way that would impress their souls, making sense of one another even throughout the periods they were apart. Then Rick’s senseless personality surfaced and he made the wrong moves, mistook his lines and remained silent when he should not. It scared Kate and made her loose faith. Time, that unbeatable foe, passed very slowly, while they were together no more, although still remembering the sweet taste of the good times. And nowadays, they find themselves a world apart. Rick still deeply in love, not wanting to give that feeling up, and strangely betting on the possibilities. Kate only seeing herself getting even more hurt, and imagining him as he really is not. Time passing doesn’t seem to help these two, even if there is still a lot of film to shoot further scenes.
4 comments:
ainda não percebi porque é que mesmo quando gostam os homens conseguem fazer-nos sentir mal e estragar tudo. será que não sabem que gostam e só percebem quando já é tarde??
Sweet Mary, é mesmo assim, somos umas bestas, provavelmente é congénito e vem com o cromossoma Y. Felizmente para algumas sortudas existirão por aí umas excepções para confirmar a regra... são é mutantes!
;)
After an ice-cream at the end of the afternoon, my little daughter draged me to a jazz concert, somewhere in a hidden garden, low sunset and green plants as only walls.
And, out of nowhere, out of the microphone, I fell back in a distant past:
"mummy can I have that big elephant over there?" Pink elephants, endless summers, blue hats with white dots, short phonecalls, hopefull love.
Men are not mutant, Rick can be everything he wants too - like somebody from the book by Nabokov: "you will only regret what you did not do"(and being blaze is out of fashion for many years now)
FA
As you know my dear friend, only you had – and today Kate has – the power to make Rick change. That’s the magic of love inside Rick’s strange heart. As for the blasé thing, when you reach half your life it’s inevitable and that’s what makes some deep feelings so supreme and yet unmanageable.
Sweet taste from your little one, was it really Rickie Lee Jones? I hope she loves Pink elephants too.
FA for both of you
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