We lose the people we love because it reminds us how important they are to our lives.

The time is 11:14 pm, and I am back in my own room where I have spent some of the most memorable years of my high school life right now. Every time I am back into this room, I am drawn towards the memories that exist and have been witnessed in every moment by the walls that surround me. These walls have seen the rise and fall of my first ever true obsession of love in my lifetime. These walls have seen the time where I have loved a girl the most in the way that I could not imagine living without her, and these walls have seen me in a moment where I have felt my heart torn apart in the hardest way in my entire life. These walls have seen me grow through the confusing and heartbreaking loss of my grandfather so many years ago, and now see me reliving that moment in my memory of my father coming in with an expressionless countenance to my brother and myself, of which we were still in that immediate "awakening" phase. 

We can learn so many lessons to reevaluate our own sense of beings inside this world just by the stories that can be told about ourselves. Sometimes, it just seems so foreign and so "embarrassing" to our own senses that some people really try to understand these movies in such a higher light then just seeking "entertainment" for the time we invest into watching these productions. But I have just felt, for what can be just summed up inside another blog entry before a point where I grow completely A.D.D. to this train of thought, is that seeing Benjamin Buttons tonight and Slumdog Millionaire has carried to myself the amount of heart-opening, high-inducing, incredibly imagined stories, and with that, messages, these stories serve to our people that watch these movies.

Fuck. There is just so much to talk about with them. I can not even imagine just trying to induce a "memory recall" of everything about these movies without just sitting inside a bedroom and talking until the early hours of daybreak. It gets to the point, sometimes, where every single creation of the plot, every character, every hypothetical situation, every nuance, every way the audio is mixed, every bit of visual and aural complexity, or even just to a certain kind of way a scene is filmed, just makes sense to what you want to understand with yourself and identify what kind of person you want to be from what you learn inside that movie. Slumdog Millionaire just invokes you into a world of understanding of the importance that we as people have labeled money and wealth inside of our own world, and to take one of the culturally historic creations of the US media, translate it to a possibly impossible realm of understanding of the lead character's knowledge of all the answers to the questions just by "coincidental" knowledge with his own life, and then explain that impossibility just by the nature that "every answer to the world has always been written somewhere", and to do that within the structure of the plot of that movie, is just absolutely incredible. That is a mouthful, but somehow, when you see this movie, that is the truth. 

The best kinds of movies are the ones that go for the truth in the most unique identity whatsoever. I feel that after these movies, it should be a matter of my existence to always try to hold onto those emotions from these movies, whether the emotion made me cry, made me reflect myself into the situation, made me laugh hysterically, or just made me accept a new way of thinking, I need to be more conscientious of that emotion every time I find myself "living unconsciously" at any given time.

I wish I could think a little more clearly about these things right now, but I am a little mentally overloaded at this point. Christmas Eve yesterday was a flurry of emotions of frustration for shopping, and then was catered by a good slice of nostalgia, followed by some awkwardness, and then a good sense of "peaceful unconcern". I ended up smoking a good amount with Neal and Dylan before 8 o'clock, and by that in regard, made the entire party seem like an incredibly lengthy occasion. The entire time, I was thinking back to a year ago towards how the party atmosphere had changed to what was last night. Not having any of the brothers or as many of my friends at the occasion probably kept me more sober, the amount of people over had seemed to grow down to just a couple of families, and my high state of mind made me feel reclusive towards talking with people, probably just because I did not want them to judge me for how I was for that moment. 

I can reflect a lot on a quote from Benjamin Buttons tonight, whereupon Brad Pitt's character makes a return to his "home," and the outer narration states that "home never seems to change to us. It will always smell the same, look the same, and from that, just makes you feel that the only thing that has changed the most can only be yourself." That was a definite truth from last night. It just had an estranged feeling to see all the neighbors in our house for this one time of the year, that the only time we can feel to catch up with our lives amongst each other, comes only as some sort of "obligation" of our party to these people.

I just feel a need of change, I suppose, towards how our family should be spending time together. I told Dad how incredible it would be to spend a holiday at some point up in Banff again, but I just do not know how much I could ever see that idea being evaluated into a reality.

Time for sleep. Time for my mind to seek some more dreams, some more alternate realities that might inspire my thinking for tomorrow morning, when I will drive up to the mountains to watch the sun rise, something I have not seen in this city for what has felt for so many years right now.

-c