I’m waiting for a theater to lean into it. Make it out like a Rocky Horror show, sell pre-assembled bags that have all your tossables, maybe some lines printed out as guides for when to shout, a little plastic lump to take home for the kids.
“Humanize them, emotionally connect with them”
… Motherfucker, it’s a Yautja. I don’t want to emotionally resonate with him, I want to see him pointed at something just as dangerous and 10 times as ugly. I want an hour and a half of a hunt that ends with a head sliced off and mounted to a wall.
Passing Through by Kaden MacKay.
It came on while I was driving, struggling through feeling like I just didn’t have enough time. Trying to work up the cash to get to a better place, feeling stuck in a dead-end job that I’ve lost what little passion I had for, not really many opportunities to get something better in my area.
Trying to work through my own identity, feeling how much of who I have been was something built on the things pushed onto me, feeling like I’ve missed so much of my own life being buried within a shell that was just starting to open. Trying to open it more, knowing I had to face the risks because staying inside was killing me.
Feeling like I was behind, running towards something I could never catch. I had to pull over because I had started crying. I was doing all this, making myself feel worse, and never taking that chance to just be. To be comfortable in my skin, to be who I really am, to let the time pass through and just smile, even for a little while.