::: flaming neverland
Mia: "You don't look so happy."
Antonius Block: "No."
Mia: "Are you tired?"
Antonius Block: "Yes. I have boring company."
Mia: "You mean your squire?"
Antonius Block: "No, not him."
Mia: "Who do you mean, then?"
Antonius Block: "Myself."
[Det Sjunde inseglet. Ingmar Bergman, Sweden, 1957]
it’s 4 a.m., and you’re wide awake—palms sweaty, heart racing. you’re worried about your future. your aging parents. your account. your health. your life. your after life. breathing evenly beside you—sometimes behind you, sometimes not around you—your doppelganger is oblivious. doesn’t he see the dangers that lurk in every single shadow? he must not. otherwise, how could he, with all that’s going on in the world, have talked so calmly at dinner last night about flying to neverland for a fahkkin vacation?
so your bada is a bullsh*t, then.
*inspired by an article, maybe somewhere in TIME medio 2002...