Probably the most moving finales in any film I've ever seen.
The boy is him as a child, with whom he finally makes amends, and is able to die.

Start at 04:00.


Le Temps qui Reste

A week. I saw his nodding head. I saw the one tear in the days of pain. I saw my brother remove his glasses, sobbing. I saw my uncle remove his glasses, coughing. I saw my mother's red eyes. I saw my cousins. I saw my Paw Paw. I saw their tears and fear and suffering. I saw my own. I saw the machine fill his lungs a final time. I saw him sleep and ( Read more... )

I have not truly understood how destructive notions of masculinity are until I began to see how the men of my family handled family crisis and pain and suffering and exhaustion. My uncle, the eldest of my grandpa's sons and closest, walked away quickly, tripping over bags and obstacles to hide himself and his tears and sobs in faux coughs. His wife ( Read more... )

It almost feels like religion replaced emotional interpersonal intimacy within my family. Easier to have a loving relationship with God than with your daughter, son, sister, brother, cousin, aunt, dad, mom, uncle, grandpa, grandma, friend -- He doesn't talk back. Easier to hold hands in a prayer circle and mumble to Jesus than to talk with one ( Read more... )

You can't help but laugh at yourself when you feel lonely because the leather sofa you passed out on from exhaustion and lack of a bed reminds you of what it feels like to sleep with someone. The feeling of another's skin. And then you remember it's a dead cow's. And you want to vomit a little ( Read more... )

I dealt with it, the tubes and needles and machines and urine and struggle and suffering, none of which was my own or in me or felt by me, by pacing in circles outside in the echo of hip hop from the adjacent club/restaurant, crying and ranting with my closest friend through cell phones and sleepiness, while those physically closest, I glared at, ( Read more... )

Matching sockless penniless loafers. Your legs tangled with themselves. Together because you look so good as an Us. Awkwardness of new lovers from the corner of my eye. A hand on his knee. my knee. I feel -- no -- remember the weight. the lightness of my innards. warmth. a feeling similar to falling, to dying in a dream. A simple gesture explains ( Read more... )

A paraphrasing of Taïa's description of Los Angeles:

There are so many freeways. They are like veins. And outside the window, it is like hearing the blood running in your veins. Like when you hear it at night and you are uncomfortable. But you are in it and it's fascinating.
Of course, much was lost in paraphrasing. But it was such a gorgeous ( Read more... )

It's time to leave when you lose sleep over lack of actual communication. actual conversation. Must. escape. pcc.

Sitting shirtless on a couch in a darkened apartment, lathered in Neutrogena body lotion, while gay porn plays on the ceiling, four underwear-clad men are dog-piled on the bed making out, and I walk in on the last two in the bathroom: one yelling at me to pee in the kitchen sink, the other naked, washing the vomit off himself. I peed in a cup in ( Read more... )