11/8/2024

my letterboxd is...pretty sad, to say the least. i don't watch many movies, and i didn't even really start going out of my way until, like, a year ago. but today, i found myself settling into gloomy november by watching perks of being a wallflower.

i can see why tumblr was so obsessed with this. the themes of loneliness, trauma, and being queer hits as hard in 2024 as it did in 2012. the writing was awkward at times, but the melodrama is also what makes it so good, and so teenager coming of age core. it's comforting to see parts of yourself reflected that are hard to speak about.

more prominent, though, were the scenes where charlie was with his friends. the film's final scene in the tunnel was poetic reminiscence of every "teenage friend group" photo you'd find on pinterest. the infinite, blinding wonder found in being a teenager with nothing to lose and everything to feel is something i used to romanticize so hard. i wanted to be understood, find the people who will finally "get" me, and get swept away on various teenager-y adventures too!! i wanted that so bad i could fucking choke on it. my childhood was listless and restless and really fucking lonely, and it left me with a never-ending wound. i don't think it'll ever close, you know. it's built into me like brick and stone. the sky is blue, water is wet, and sage feels unbelievably empty.

maybe this is a universal thing. maybe everyone else has the same bleak bitterness that i feel. maybe one day i won't need a shovel to live.

it's easy to think that if you had the "teenage experience" every adult seems to fondly remember, you'd be happy, but those bright and flashing moments will never encapsulate your entire life. i think the mindset of "i need to experience as much as possible and maybe one day it'll make me okay" ruined me a bit. i'm all sorts of fucked up, but at least i get it now. happiness is found in reconciling with your feelings. the wound eats at me, but i get through another day knowing it'll pass like everything does.