The Hours

Is my work going to live?
I can't go through all this.
Why do you say that?
I can't!
Why?
Because I wanted to be a writer, that's all.
And?
I wanted to write about it all.
Everything that happens in a moment.
The way the flowers look when you carry them in your arms.
This towel - how it smells , how it feels...
it's thread.
All our feelings - yours and mine.
The history of it.
Who we once were.
Everything in the world.
Everything mixed up.
Like it's all mixed up now.
And I failed.
I failed.
No matter what you start up with, it ends up being so much less.
Sheer fucking pride!
And stupidity.
We want everything, don't we?
I suppose we do.
You kissed me on a beach.
Yeah.
Do you remember?
How many years ago.
Of course I do.
What did you want
Come closer.
I'm right here.
Come closer. Would you please?
Take my hand.
Would you be angry...
Would I be angry if you didn't show up at the party?
Would you be angry if I died?
If you died?
Who is this party for?
What do you mean who is it for?
Why are you asking? What are you trying to say?
I am not trying to say anything.
I'm saying I think I'm only staying alive to satisfy you.
So that is it we do.
That is what people do - they stay alive for each other.
The doctors told you - you don't need to die.
They told you. You can live this for years.
Well, exactly!
I don't accept this.
I don't accept what you say.

Às vezes não paramos para ver o que está para além da superfície. Escondemos o interior conflituoso no silêncio dos gestos triviais, nas banalidades do quotidiano.