memories: you’re talking about memories.
Walking around in a bit of a haze this morning.
I couldn’t sleep last night, and ended up watching Blade Runner on cable. I have always loved this movie. To me, the atmosphere of 2019 Los Angeles feels right: the weird climate (always raining, smog-filtered sun barely able to shine down through the ridiculously tall buildings and dense air traffic), the ethnic mix of Latino and Asian folks dominating the dirty and overcrowded L.A. streets, the incredible shoddiness and decrepitude of everything. Despite all the amazing technologies on display in storefront cloning labs, L.A. still looks like a shithole.
The film is not about memory, but memories do figure into the plot. Deckert, the blade runner (played by Harrison Ford) must identify and destroy some runaway replicants manufactured by the Tyrell Corporation. The newest model replicants are implanted with memories which make them unaware of the truth of what they are.
Between Blade Runner – which is so depressing and fatalistic on so many levels — and the film I sat through earlier in the evening, Elia Kazan’s East of Eden, by 2:30 a.m. I found myself emotionally drained and yet all on edge at the same time. I could not stop crying and as a result I became all stuffy nosed and plain miserable.
If you haven’t seen it, East of Eden centers around an angst-ridden teenager (played by James Dean) trying to win his cold father’s approval and coming to terms with his mother’s being a big-time whorehouse operator. Given the complicated developments surrounding my own family, this was probably not the best thing for me to be watching. Chasing it with a midnight dose of Blade Runner was certainly a mistake.
It was 3 am before I decided to take one of the Lunesta I have stashed, and it was 3:30 before I could feel it taking affect. I woke up this morning at 7:30 and I know that is not enough sleep when you’ve taken a pill.
I’m starting to realize that a lot of what I’m feeling must have to do with the fact that I’ll be an empty-nester soon. So, maybe a few crying jags and a few sleepless nights are to be expected. I will work on better ways to deal with it than staying up all night watching movies that make you question your existence, your humanity and your parental integrity. I will certainly not make taking a sleeping pill a habit (note to self: more yoga).
Even if I’ve been dealing with things badly lately, I know for sure I’m dealing with them better than that certain someone who finds it necessary to start all over again with another child.
