I can't see the rain,
but I can hear it.
It's cold,
but I don't feel it.
I'm thinking of you.
I'm lying on my bed.
I can't see the rain, but I can hear it. It's cold, but I don't feel it. I'm thinking of you.
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The Virgin Suicides (1999)
"What we have here is a dreamer. Someone completely out of touch with reality."
Mistress America (2015)
"I've spent my whole life chasing after things and knocking at doors... and I'm tired of running towards people. I want to be the place that people come to. I want to make a home for all the knockers and runners. I'm good at that. I'm happy with that. I keep the hearth. That's a word, right? Hearth?"
I say it's your turn to ask me something. You ask, "If we were both at a party, and we didn't know each other yet, and you saw me on the other side of the room, and I saw you, and we looked at each other for a moment, like really looked at each other... would you approach me or would you wait to see if I approached you?" I say, "I'd probably never approach you, but if you came up to me, I'd say something first."
Palo Alto (2013)
"You want to cry and smile, but instead you just stare and you can't do anything."
I hear from you now and then, less now than before. Sometimes I think it's because I didn't respond fast enough when you told me your mom was dead. I'm sorry things didn't work out with your dad. I wish I knew more. I wish you told me more. Now, when you tell me things, its meaningless stuff. It's filler. You used to talk without even thinking, about good things, real things. But now, it comes and goes, this thing we have.
The truth is, you scare me. But it's not your fault. I think more than anything, the idea of you scares me, the idea of you and me, the idea of us. You're too smart for me, I think sometimes. You're too evolved, too mature. I'm not there yet. Maybe I make up too many excuses as to why this won't work. It's probably because I know I can't keep a good thing. I look back to the beginning days, the first conversations, the first time I saw who you really were. Since I've passed that point of asking you about yourself, I find myself just really wanting to know the simplest of things... What's your favorite color? Where did you grow up? What's the name of the first boy you've kissed? Have you ever kissed a girl? What's your favorite ice cream flavor? Why do you hate me? Oh wait.
Black Mirror: "San Junipero" (2016)
"And now it's me, and I'm passing through, and before I leave... I'll have a good time… I'm just gonna have a good time.”
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