Lost in Translation
Iâm still taking in textures, still surreptitiously fingering the velvet at Coldwater Creek and playing with the coffee beans when nobody is watching. Iâve lost a little of the manic optimism that I was carrying earlier, and Iâve lost a little of the crushing depression that set in last week. Iâm somewhere in-between now, tethered to reality. The tether is strong, but there are days I feel like Tom Cruise in the Mission Impossible movie, dangling inches above the ground after a free fall, not quite trusting that the rope is really going to hold.
Frack. I wish that movie had somebody other than Tom Cruise in that role. I absolutely hate having him as a point of reference when Iâm waxing otherwise poetically. Ruins the entire flow. Let me try it this way instead:
Iâm still taking in textures, still surreptitiously fingering the velvet at Coldwater Creek and playing with the coffee beans when nobody is watching. Iâve lost a little of the manic optimism that I was carrying earlier, and Iâve lost a little of the crushing depression that set in last week. Iâm somewhere in-between now, tethered to reality. The tether is strong, but there are days I feel like Ethan Hunt in the Mission Impossible movie, dangling inches above the ground after a free fall, not quite trusting that the rope is really going to hold.
That feels better, but who the heck knows who Ethan Hunt is? If it wasnât for Wikipedia, Iâd have no idea what the main characterâs name was. I suppose readers could get it by context, but the text is still missing that smooth flow. The reader scans along, hits âEthan Huntâ, has a âwho the heckâ moment, continues reading, gets it from context, then moves on. Not the literary experience I had in mind. Upon reflection, this might be what Iâm going for:
Iâm still taking in textures, still surreptitiously fingering the velvet at Coldwater Creek and playing with the coffee beans when nobody is watching. Iâve lost a little of the manic optimism that I was carrying earlier, and Iâve lost a little of the crushing depression that set in last week. Iâm somewhere in-between now, tethered to reality. The tether is strong, but there are days I feel like that guy in the Mission Impossible movie, dangling inches above the ground after a free fall, not quite trusting that the rope is really going to hold.
Thatâs the right feel. Doesnât break the mood by mentioning Tom Cruise, doesnât give any âhuh?â moments like Ethan Hunt, goes straight to the scene and not the star.
This is why I donât write many entries any more. By the time the first paragraph is finalized Iâve forgotten what it was I wanted to say.
"By the time the first paragraph is finalized Iââ¬â¢ve forgotten what it was I wanted to say."
I’ve got that problem, too. I get distracted by the pets, the pain, the trips to pee. Hmmm. All of those things start with the letter P. Interesting.
I didn’t even figure it out by context. I just thought you incorrectly remembered Ethan Hawke’s name.
Did you know Tom Cruise runs United Artists, the parent company for New Line? There were some tongue-in-cheek rumors going around (on a certain site you might remember) that he was going to play Bilbo in the The Hobbit movie, gack.
Okay, let’s think of other things now. Puppies. Butterflies. Chocolate cake.
There, that’s better.
LOL!! I loved this entry. Maybe it is because I have the same problem happen from time to time. Actually, I think it happens more often than I care to admit. 🙂
Most of my life seems to be lost in translation so I can relate.
RYC: were there a black hole to open up in the middle of my living room floor, I’d most likely be the first one to dive in. If that happens maybe I’ll meet my house shoes on the flip side???