Movies, magic and dark

I’m on a Studio A24 kick, with

Everything Everywhere All at Once filling me with the most vibrant colour and bilinguality,

words to reach and words to hurt, blending and aching, “trying to connect in amongst all this noise,” the co-director explains,

family and regret and empty void,

the black hole of (everything) sucking you in, multitudes of echoes and shadows and rocks

as your grandfather, mother, father, ancestors and loss pull you, trying to reach

as you leap into the abyss

the green knight and its menagerie of stories, aching and ancient, foretold and fey, inhuman eyes grinning and watching, amused confused mulling

playful

as you breathe in the beautiful darkness of nature and death

as your eyes are told to look here, just there, at this glimmer,

this splash of green as deep as blood, follow the path and become forever lost,

peaceful wandering and running, something you can never escape,

accept your fate

midsommar, aching and death,

(these all are, I think)

the smile of victory and finding community, blood dripping and hands held, eyes grinning in fanaticism and flowers and midnight sun, screaming,

somehow one of the most nuanced depictions of gaslighting and broken communication with your friends and partners I’ve ever seen

comfort, I think, still found

but the shots focus on her, her confusion, her attempts to discuss?

her partner, shutdown and broken and brain, away, familiar

the movie plays and splashes in the darkness-light of horror

and somehow nails the loss of humanity in hollow relationships the best

the lighthouse fills us with void and emptiness, the chaos-murder of men and nature, storms rolling and suffocating

the camera work ridiculous and delight, grey and static as their spinning souls, trying to find space to anchor—and then, gone, eyes pecked and intestines falling out, friendship not quite enough to overweigh jealousy and starvation, darkness swallowing

these, stories

with

grinning teeth, blood and community, paths through the night and howls at the dark,

exactly the whispers and darkness and eyes starring into the night,

we need,

for

hope

for the magic humming beneath our skin

for the fire, shared, in a warmcold night

for the need to grasp to touch to listen,

the whispers that hold us, saying

we will die, definitely,

perhaps,

horribly,

but —

maybe

don’t venture into the void

alone

geoa

spirit world with geoa | patreon and paypal for sparks of death and community

discord, for quiet hangs and writing together and A24 watchings

hitmeupfam,

come hang in discord :)

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spirit world with geoa

spirit world with geoa

fey faerie fairy tale stories brought to you by geoa geer and whoever else is around today