This week's two pages of posts were inspired by the heartbreakingly beautiful film, 'Melancholia' by Lars von Trier.

I found this film to resonate on many levels, but most profoundly, it seemed to instinctively reawaken within me an insatiable desire for the beauty of the unknown... After all, that which we are unable to quantify or easily comprehend, we tend to avoid, which is precisely the reason such things should be explored.

I feel as though I was born believing in things which I still have yet to truly understand, but my faith holds true to them because what we see, our realities, they seldom begin to touch on the things we feel, along with the people who affect us spiritually and preternaturally. My beliefs in existentialism have nothing to do with religion, social standing, or education, but an awareness that everything we deem as good, bad, or in between, is inside us, and we need not be frightened to go there, to look within, as opposed to searching for some external source. We're the source; the fountain of being and possibility runs through us like an uncharted river, we only need to tap into it and go with it's primal flow...

In the case of Melancholia, with its otherworldly presence, a large portion of the film is steeped in a gripping sadness, yet enveloped with a profound beauty, which solidifies the fact, for me anyhow, that both are so indelibly intertwined.

With sadness and depression being one of the last taboo's of our culture, it begs the question: Why?... We're living in a society which exalts mind over matter, encourages life coaching, and ingests self help books to the point of concealing our denial. Why must sorrow be treated like a wound in need of a bandage? These feelings are so intensely personal and we sort them out the best we can, but why should sadness be equated with negativity and pessimism? Perhaps that's the case for some, but I feel fortunate that experience has bestowed a certain wisdom upon me, in which sadness penetrates deeper than any other emotion, surpassing the mind, beyond skin deep, somehow piercing our very soul, the consequence of which, brings about an appreciation for all that is good, and beautiful, and kind, allowing us to see the universe as a microcosm within the whole and its innumerable divinities.

We sometimes cry tears of joy or laugh when we really ought to be crying, which proves beyond a reasonable doubt, not that one should need proof, nonetheless, it suggests that our emotions are so infinitely complex and sumptuous, that nothing should be categorized as black or white when we exist amidst the grey. Anything or anyone which is able to invoke a visceral, emotional reaction within us, be it love or pain, should be embraced because life has no lasting meaning for us in statistics or proof, only by our perspective and emotional truth can we even begin to define it. And when someone is magically able to tug at our heart strings and make it skip a beat, it's that moment within a moment that our dreams are born and our soul's are fulfilled.

Life is majestically nuanced by our emotions, not to the exclusion of them.
Oftentimes its beauty is so overwhelming that you cannot help but to hope to sink into the abyss just to feel the weight of its magic pressed upon you. Because life here is altogether short and so agonizingly beautiful, at times it can feel unbearable, but we take whatever morsel we can and let it sustain us, so as to glimpse a slice of eternity through our tears and laughter.

Anything you can dream of is real... There are infinite worlds, which hold infinite possibilities, and if you can't believe in something you're unable to see, or refuse to feel, how can you truly claim to be alive?