an infinite memory of mine

I stood in a bookshop in Italy, eyes glued to a book. not just any book- but a book about film. a book about Wes Anderson, covering all his films and how they were made. I'm not sure why, but all my life I've had this insatiable desire to study these things, films. I still do. 

so I stood there, flicking through the pages of the heavy £33 book, focused solely on memorizing as many of the films listed as humanly possible, with the intention of watching them later on and carrying out my own studies. I was well aware that my entire family was waiting outside for me, as I said I would just "look around for 5 mins"- but in that moment I did not care. I did not care if we'd be late for the hotel show, or for some stupid dinner. nothing else mattered in that moment apart from film. 

suddenly my father's voice came bellowing through the serene shop, telling me to hurry up. I slammed the book shut, shoving it into the shelf and shuffling through the crammed shop for the exit (marked as 'uscita' at the door). I hopped out without a word.

"What have you been doing in there for so long?" my mother asks me, the answer lingering in my mouth for a few seconds. 'Oh, just fuelling my insane obsession with movies that i am certain you will hate'. But I can't say that, so all i can muster past my gritted teeth is "reading.". They insisted on buying a book for me, telling me that they are willing to spend money on books, but I ignored the lecture. 

Even though they smiled at me, I could see that look behind their eyes. Far past irises of forced acceptance I could see that dark, disgusted disappointment they felt when they looked at me. It swallowed me whole at the thought, but I knew it was there. They wanted a doctor, a teacher, a lawyer. a daughter who would grow up to be modest, rightly mannered and traditional with a husband, kids and a stable income. fuck that. fuck tradition. fuck it all.

one day they will know. one day when they see my stories playing out on a big silver screen, that's when they'll meet their daughter for the first time. through the stories they never knew were constantly playing out in my mind. 

every single film I watch- every single one- makes me feel. it makes me feel and think and shift my perspective just for a second, and that is a beautiful thing. without this I wouldn't know what it's like to be in someone else's shoes. I would see past the bubble many people are in. I wouldn't be able to laugh or smile or cry with some people I seem to know so well, knowing that they are merely a figment of someone's imagination. film is beautiful, and I want to be a part of it. and I will.

that's the reason I wake up every day.

that was a good trip to Siena, Italy. I didn't just find a book, I found my life.