Dear Someone, who found these films
These are the
I’ve ended with.
I was aware that cinema’d been
This amount of minutes, this innumerable quality of histories.
In my twenties, I’d spent days asking what cinema could be.
Since I turned thirty, the
has been suspended.
This is a segmental history of mine, that I
able to embrace in cinema.
Please be aware that
these times of cinema
have often cried for their
I’d found these films on the street of my abandoned history.
Unrolling them, looking into them deeply,
and I sometimes
in the middle of night.
However, afterwards, I failed in giving them a state of
In the next morning, when you found these films, they’d already been
, still unrisen.
Once, I thought cinema was for death, which only belongs to trivial times of
, with its dissipating
* This letter is written for the piece Today’s glance with the formerly immobilized scene. (The title is quoted from “Conflict” by Stephane Mallarme.)
Running on Cargo