After The Hours

You know how you feel after you have read an incredibly chilling story or watched a movie that made you think. Made you think a lot. For a long time after that, you spend the hours in quiet contemplation, thinking, analyzing, re-watching and rereading. You think of the why and the how and the what. You want to get rid of the feeling and get back to reality. But another part of you wants to stay in this other world. You feel you are part of the movie, you are one of the characters. Her face is your face. Her actions are your actions. You have become one. And you think about why she did what she did. You think about the other characters. You hate some, you love some, and you feel sorry for the ones that had to die. But they had to. It was meant to be.

There is this look in your eye. You are not present. You are not here. You are elsewhere. The movie has ended, yet it goes on. In you. And you let it be.

(I watched a wonderful movie called The Hours. And I have written here how the movie made me feel. It is a beautiful movie, a wonderful story (or stories). A must watch. It is an old movie. So you might have seen it already, but if you haven’t do watch it.)

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