film room thoughts

one day we’ll just be little figures on film in the bottom pile of rejected projects. years from now, someone who hasn’t been born yet will pull out our crumpled, smiling faces from the abandoned 16mm bin. and they’ll splice us in between shots of our old rooms, now their rooms, not realising the marks on the walls or the broken window latches are from us. they’ll put our faces next to their faces, shot on the same rented out bolex camera.

one day we’ll just be names scrawled on a wall in posca paint pen. kids will wonder who we were as their mothers pull them away scoffing about desecrating public property. our notes beneath the bridges will fade away as decades worth of teens kiss for the first time away from prying eyes. they won’t even think about how many times we sat in the same places, or scraped our knees on the same rocks.

one day we’ll just be misspelled names in the classifieds of hometown periodicals, left out in the garage awaiting compost. someone’s father will rip it up and use it in the garden, and flowers will sprout through the letters of our surnames.