Brokeback Mountain

This blog has a habit of being sort of shy and reticent and disappearing for months while dealing with emotional trauma. But I just saw Brokeback Mountain, and yes, life is fine, but suddenly a whole torrent of sorrow has welled up, a whole silt flood of memories hurtling downriver...

For all the loves, all the lives that could have been but didn't make it. For all the impossible loves that can never have happy endings.

I wish I knew how to quit you.

... Aloneness... A door closing, a clicking down of a phone, a cheery goodnight on the road at night. These kill you quicker than encephalitis and slower than old age. Isolated frames, cut off from each other like prisoners in separate cells, each human being trapped inside the sealed aircraft of his own life, watching the others go down, one after the other, but being able to do nothing to help.
... How can I bring a tongue to all the unsayable things in my life? Things that look at each other and drop their eyes in shame and pain and sidle away this way and that, scurry like rats over the edges of my conscience into the not-looking, into not-acknowledgement, into the cement of amnesia.

Every place in this city is a memory of loss.
Every place in this city is a loss of memory.

Ah, the fringe benefits of researching multiplexes...