So cosa significa amore
quando il giorno muore

It’s late. It’s 3am late and I’m reading Italian poetry, because it’s 3am and I’m crying and so why not?

I want to say that I’ve reached the point where I can talk about this with the articulation of a film scholar I try so hard to mimic but no. It’s hard to talk about things I love. Give me the emotions of another character and I can write you a story but ask me of my own feelings and…nothing. They’re all internal sounds that don’t translate into words. 

And it’s ridiculous because this movie is just two pretentious bisexuals cycling around Italy. But it has a mood all on its own. Visually, this has the calmest aesthetic I have ever seen with light pale tones of summer but with the deepest affects of pain. 

Loving someone is a heavy feeling, I imagine. And that’s the thing too, they never say that word. Never once does it feel like a cliché when they look at each other. There are a lot of moments of silence where you can imagine the book holding the hidden details of a scene but its the silence on screen that makes it all the more visceral.

There’s just a lot of things about this film that I love but wish I was better with words to be able to get through them all but è la vita.

p.s.
If I can die with Mystery of Love playing in the background I would no longer fear death.