Journal Entry: 15th December 2016

Psychout for Murder (1969) dir. Rossano Brazzi.

15th December 2016

I don’t know! I am so confused! A knot with several other knots. Where do I start to unravel? At the tentative edge, starting nimble and fiddly. Or should I dig my fingers right in? I don’t know, I am self-destructing. I am Blanche-ing(1). I am afraid of hard truths, when the knots are laid out in front of me. I am blind again! Like in the summer with Michael, I walked blindly without thinking. I know I will regret talking to these various people, I know no good would come out of it, I know I want to feel a thrill. By Blanche-ing I mean seeking misplaced affections. It is not right to combust in fragments and hope my shrapnel will touch someone and therefore touch my whole self. It isn't possible as I am in pieces!

Tinder, am I delusional? I am a different packaged box with strange contents not many would like to look at, or hold or even acknowledge. When I place myself back together again, as a whole, they fall in love! I am in awe of how this happens. Do I want to be cool girl again? Do I even enjoy male company? Should I define myself on whether or not- male or female understands me?

Frequently I think back to younger Mursal, Mursal who was so sure. Little miss know it all. ‘Love’ (romantic love) is deficient. You are for yourself and yourself only. You are better on in existence alone. Over the years, Amy Dunne’s attitude has festered in me like a virus.

I want to win! Playing cool girl means you win! You win by his standards, by society’s standards but not your own. Small price to pay.

It is a tight balancing act, living for yourself and wanting understanding. Selfish! But you live completely in sync. Or do you need understanding? Is it a requirement for life?

1: Blanche is the protagonist of Tennessee Williams play; ‘A Streetcar Named Desire’