I saw the short comment that it is inappropriate to classify this film as a "thriller", but I think there is still some truth in it. Entering the spiritual world of others by mistake is like breaking into a river of another world, with turbulent waves everywhere. The rapid flow dominates and engulfs everything, and the madness and confusion endured by individuals are beyond the reach of films generally labeled as "thriller".
It's called "Bonedog".
Bonedog dirty
Coming home is terrible
whether the dogs lick your face or not
whether you have a wife
or just a wife-shaped loneliness waiting for you
Coming home is terrible lonely
so that you think of the oppressive barometric pressure
back with you have just come from with fondness
because everything's worse once you're home
You think of the vermin clingling to the grass stalks
long hours on the road, roadside assistance and ice creams
and the peculiar shapes of certain clouds
and silence with longing, because you did not want to return
Coming home is
just awful
And the home-style silence and clouds
contribute to nothing but the general malaise
Clouds, such as they are, are in fud suspect
and made from a different material than those you left behind
You yourself were cut from a different cloudy cloth
returned, retained
ill-met by moonlight
unhappy to be back, slack in all the wrong spots
seamy suit of clothes, dishrag-ratty, worst
You return home
moon-landed, foreign is like an alien landed on the moon
The Earth's gravitation pull
an effort now redoubled
dragging your shoelaces loose
and your shoulders
etching deeper the stanza of worry on your forehead
You return home deepened
a parched well linked to tomorrow
by a frail strand of
anyway cycle
You sigh into the onslaught of identical days
one might as well, at a time
Well okay
anyway, you're back
The sun goes up and down like a tired whore
The weather immobile like a broken limb
while you just keep getting older
Nothing moves, but the shifting tides of salt in your body
Your vision blurs
You carry your weather with you
the big,blue whale
a skeletal darkness
You come back
with X-ray vision
your eyes have become a hunger
You come home with your mutant gifts
to a house of bone
Everything you see now
All of it
bone is bone
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