The concept of self-expression of "I" needs to be reconstructed

Alexane 2022-09-27 17:45:18

Suffice it to say, the reality of emotions, the reality of pain, the expectation of the object upon which liberation depends, and the pain of playing the self-defining "self" and the joy of playing the ""role"" that can be played at will. How to get rid of it? The concept of "I" needs to be reconstructed. I will not always be that pain. Although some pain is hard to forget, it can still not be the painful self, but can enter another "self" through acting. .

Whichever is true, once it happens, it is true.

Although I think the line below is right, the reason why it can't touch me deeply is that I have already dispelled the concept of "self". At the same time, the understanding of this pain still makes me have complex feelings about it. Although it can no longer make me suffer so much, it can still impact me and make me sick.

Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won't know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it's what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years , for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it seems to but it doesn't really.And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don' t know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.

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Synecdoche, New York quotes

  • Sammy Barnathan: I've watched you forever, Caden, but you've never really looked at anyone other than yourself. So watch me. Watch my heart break. Watch me jump. Watch me learn that after death there's nothing. There's no more watching. There's no more following. No love. Say goodbye to Hazel for me. And say it to yourself, too. None of us has much time.

  • [over radio]

    Millicent Weems: What was once before you - an exciting, mysterious future - is now behind you. Lived; understood; disappointing. You realize you are not special. You have struggled into existence, and are now slipping silently out of it. This is everyone's experience. Every single one. The specifics hardly matter. Everyone's everyone. So you are Adele, Hazel, Claire, Olive. You are Ellen. All her meager sadnesses are yours; all her loneliness; the gray, straw-like hair; her red raw hands. It's yours. It is time for you to understand this.

    Millicent Weems: Walk.

    Millicent Weems: As the people who adore you stop adoring you; as they die; as they move on; as you shed them; as you shed your beauty; your youth; as the world forgets you; as you recognize your transience; as you begin to lose your characteristics one by one; as you learn there is no-one watching you, and there never was, you think only about driving - not coming from any place; not arriving any place. Just driving, counting off time. Now you are here, at 7:43. Now you are here, at 7:44. Now you are...

    Millicent Weems: Gone.