I'm not a clean freak. No, I guess I thrive in an environment thats not exactly in order, may seem chaotic for most people but it works for me. Coming into terms with the less attractive aspects of myself isn't my cup of tea, but as the days turned months just slowly moved past me - a growing lump on my throat from all the challenges/projects I took on last year that now demand completion, I am really and certainly not in order.
We watched Lawrence of Arabia, part 1 for a night and finished with the 2nd part last night. Peter o'Toole as Lawrence, by the way, is so cool. Something about the wildness in his eyes when being asked by prince Faisal for a "miracle" to be done for Arabia reminded me of myself when asked to do something beyond my means - an impossibility, sweet rush of blood to my head, the temptation. Only crazy people or gamblers do this sort of thing, a very little fraction of which are considered heroes. I think I'm just arrogant and I like to meddle with the fates and in a deep voice-over voice: to rewrite what has been "written", if even just in my own life. Then comes the part where arrogance meets ignorance and Lawrence finds himself terribly humbled. Lives lost, bloodbaths, and in an arrogant attempt to pass off as an Arab with his blue eyes, the Turks give him a good whipping. While I may have engaged in some micro gargantuan tasks, I have no wish to suffer the same terrible end. No, I don't need to cross the feared Nebu desert or do it as Moses did in Sinai, I don't even have to bring a pistol. Nevertheless my ears are ringing and my skin is hovering over its flesh and maybe I was wrong, maybe I should just leave the desert to its dream dust and go back home to Oxfordshire with its courtyards and tea.
Good enough that the film ends without the kind of fake satisfaction modern movies give. It doesn't present a resolution, it kinda leaves you hanging and wondering - then what? And if in the end of things there's no real answer, I guess anything can be made and done somewhere in between?
I look forward to Doctor Zhivago, Omar Sharif. Last time I saw it I was too young to remember what it was all about but I do remember it was long and it made me cry.