stuff & nonsense

Managing Editor at HelloGiggles & The Conversation, writer, compulsive iced coffee drinker and pyjama enthusiast. I have a fondness for long baths and England, but who doesn't?
I watched The Future this morning, though I’m not quite sure why. I like Miranda July, in theory. I remember loving (or at the very least feeling a connection with) Me and You and Everyone We Know upon its release, and I also own and quite like No One Belongs Here More Than You in many parts. The quirkiness which is her ultimate downfall is also her main selling point, as she somehow manages to tap into such specific instances of feeling, such tiny minute details that you probably would never have thought twice about had she not brought them up. Then she does and you feel like, fuck. She is a never-ending metaphor which can be exhausting. It’s tiring when nothing means what it means. In any case, curiosity and a vague sentimentality led me to finally pressing play on my copy of The Future this morning and I don’t know that I have anything to say about it. I feel sad for Paw Paw, of course, who is the yearning animal in us all. I feel… detached from Sophie and Jason, from the whole thing, like watching a funeral procession for a person you never really knew. Sometimes I don’t know if what Miranda July embraces is truth or pessimism, the worst-case scenario. And I’m not even sure if it matters. The world of The Future is a suspended one, a fractured little planet that exists in each of us but which we don’t usually pay much mind to, the way earth looks only like a tiny dot in the eye of the universe. I just sort of wonder if it’s not better left undisturbed. Blah blah.

I watched The Future this morning, though I’m not quite sure why. I like Miranda July, in theory. I remember loving (or at the very least feeling a connection with) Me and You and Everyone We Know upon its release, and I also own and quite like No One Belongs Here More Than You in many parts. The quirkiness which is her ultimate downfall is also her main selling point, as she somehow manages to tap into such specific instances of feeling, such tiny minute details that you probably would never have thought twice about had she not brought them up. Then she does and you feel like, fuck. She is a never-ending metaphor which can be exhausting. It’s tiring when nothing means what it means.

In any case, curiosity and a vague sentimentality led me to finally pressing play on my copy of The Future this morning and I don’t know that I have anything to say about it. I feel sad for Paw Paw, of course, who is the yearning animal in us all. I feel… detached from Sophie and Jason, from the whole thing, like watching a funeral procession for a person you never really knew. Sometimes I don’t know if what Miranda July embraces is truth or pessimism, the worst-case scenario. And I’m not even sure if it matters.

The world of The Future is a suspended one, a fractured little planet that exists in each of us but which we don’t usually pay much mind to, the way earth looks only like a tiny dot in the eye of the universe. I just sort of wonder if it’s not better left undisturbed. Blah blah.

  1. stilljenn posted this