Call Me by Your Name

Call Me by Your Name

mumbled thoughts.

Oliver. Elio. Their introduction. The importance of a name is immeasurable (a name > a soul > ensouled > alive). He reluctantly gives him his space and lets him own it. Walks, water and wonder. There’s a need to share a room, a texture and a smell; sharing not as giving to the other but as making sure it gets impregnated and it becomes a single one. The same area, the same skin, the same aroma. Eventually the same name. 

Names and souls entrapped in bodies. There is a constant necessity to merge each other’s limbs through touching, dancing and embracing. Through the adoration of sculptures. These parts give you movement and there is nothing as free as that, as singing “let me love the only way I know how” in the middle of a dance floor and outside a church.

You can never win or lose if you don’t run the race (you have to run it) = Is it better to speak or die (you have to speak) = Our hearts and our bodies are given to us only once (you have to use them). The reminder of days gained, not wasted (I really don’t believe there was a single one wasted) because who else had the courage to begin knowing it was always meant to end, Oliver hears the train arrive while still being inside the room, he turns around while Elio dreams about them. Three steps in, Elio realizes he can’t follow that train forever. It’s all about time, and he would rather go home and remember.

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