![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skonen_bladesSome things in real life are not like they are in the movies.
Car crashes, for example. In the movies, they last forever. There’s the screeching of the tires, the change of expression, the slow-motion crumple of metal, the fantail of windshield glass glittering through the glowing bloom of the growing gas-tank explosion. If there is no explosion, the people inside will survive with cuts on the bridge of their noses.
In real life, car crashes take less than a second and then they’re over. A crunch, sometimes a tire squeal, sometimes a car horn epitaph but it’s over before you know it’s started. And even though there were no explosions, the fragility of the human body almost guarantees some serious injury.
Gunshots are also like that. In the movies, the bass of a gunshot is something you feel through your seat in the cinema, a bellowing from the mouth of a dinosaur. A cannon wielded by a bodybuilder crashing through a church window. The clink and shudder of the chamber sliding back sounds like a jail-cell door slamming shut. The superheated explosion propels the hot lead forth from the mouth of a belching dragon into the chests and vehicles of the bad guys. The echo of the shots takes hours to fade amongst the clattering of spent brass casings.
In real life, gunshots sound like firecrackers. Harmless. Pop pop. Bang bang. No big deal. But the bullets snuggle in and tear through flesh and the borders between internal organs become less defined all the same. People rarely fall down dead. It can take a long time for those lives to come to a close.
Love is like that, too. In the movies, the eyes lock, the orchestra starts, and there is no hesitation. Hands move sure and true to points of passion on perfect bodies. Right things are said. Warm rain will start on cue. Rival lovers are summarily and ultimately dismissed as the kiss that made its way through hardship into the garden of Eden brings the man and the woman into unrivalled bliss.
In real life, the course of love is seldom smooth and quite often fruitless. There are questions, there is doubt, there is awkward talking. There is love that never comes out. There are age differences, same-sex conundrums, family issues, racial tension. There are condoms, briefings of past sexual history, and frank discussions of boundaries. Love does not always prevail, either. I’m not saying that eyes don’t lock and that love doesn’t bloom suddenly and powerfully.
I’m just saying it’s different than the movies.
tags
Car crashes, for example. In the movies, they last forever. There’s the screeching of the tires, the change of expression, the slow-motion crumple of metal, the fantail of windshield glass glittering through the glowing bloom of the growing gas-tank explosion. If there is no explosion, the people inside will survive with cuts on the bridge of their noses.
In real life, car crashes take less than a second and then they’re over. A crunch, sometimes a tire squeal, sometimes a car horn epitaph but it’s over before you know it’s started. And even though there were no explosions, the fragility of the human body almost guarantees some serious injury.
Gunshots are also like that. In the movies, the bass of a gunshot is something you feel through your seat in the cinema, a bellowing from the mouth of a dinosaur. A cannon wielded by a bodybuilder crashing through a church window. The clink and shudder of the chamber sliding back sounds like a jail-cell door slamming shut. The superheated explosion propels the hot lead forth from the mouth of a belching dragon into the chests and vehicles of the bad guys. The echo of the shots takes hours to fade amongst the clattering of spent brass casings.
In real life, gunshots sound like firecrackers. Harmless. Pop pop. Bang bang. No big deal. But the bullets snuggle in and tear through flesh and the borders between internal organs become less defined all the same. People rarely fall down dead. It can take a long time for those lives to come to a close.
Love is like that, too. In the movies, the eyes lock, the orchestra starts, and there is no hesitation. Hands move sure and true to points of passion on perfect bodies. Right things are said. Warm rain will start on cue. Rival lovers are summarily and ultimately dismissed as the kiss that made its way through hardship into the garden of Eden brings the man and the woman into unrivalled bliss.
In real life, the course of love is seldom smooth and quite often fruitless. There are questions, there is doubt, there is awkward talking. There is love that never comes out. There are age differences, same-sex conundrums, family issues, racial tension. There are condoms, briefings of past sexual history, and frank discussions of boundaries. Love does not always prevail, either. I’m not saying that eyes don’t lock and that love doesn’t bloom suddenly and powerfully.
I’m just saying it’s different than the movies.
tags