It doesn't matter how self aware or honest you are.
At some point, in some way, someone is going to surprise you. It could be great--an unexpected call from a friend, a gift.
But then there's the things that lie beneath, that you never expect to see the light of day. These are the things that are these tremulous revelations, humbling you, sometimes to the ground, sometimes to the skies. They're these seismic shifts that you ABSOLUTELY see coming, but only from the benefit of hindsight... they're, concisely, confusingly large.
Willem Dafoe, apparently, is packing one of these kind of surprises. Lars Von Trier chose to drop this bomb, almost flippantly, about the result of Dafoe droppin' trou during some random interview.
The phrase confusingly large absolutely strikes a certain chord, emotionally. I invite you to google this so you can experience the reality for yourself, but just remember there are certain things you just can't unsee.
The revelation takes some adjustment, no doubt. It takes some time. It could take everything and turn it flipped, upside down. Sometimes there really is a demigorgon waiting. And sometimes, I swear to you, it is the best damn thing.
I'm not gonna pretend it isn't painful. I'm not gonna pretend it doesn't hurt. I'm not going to sit here and blow smoke up your ass and tell you that having a dream built on a foundation of half truth torn down around me wasn't a profound experience, and a life-changing one. I am kind of caught between believing that I will never trust zipped lips or zipped pants or a zipped-up heart again and feeling so free and being nothing but grateful for the sting. It feels cleansing, it feels a little like redemption. Like cleaning a wound. It also feels like loss,but in a hopeful way. Like Michaelangelo says, he chipped away all the stone that was not David. I guess I wonder how the stone felt. Maybe I shouldn't anthropomorphise everything.
Anyway, given the choice, I always want to know, for better or for worse, like the promise I was so ready to make. And while it would have been a promise I would have endeavoured to keep, come hell, or high water, it's so much better that the bulging secret from beneath came out, in full technicolor horror, inescapable. It lingers, forcing you to confront the reality. That's the way of these things, I guess--be it genitals or the truth, it's confusingly large and alters your reality.
Maybe that's how it should be--maybe it has to be something you can't get out of your mind. Because some people absolutely prefer that things stay strapped in and hidden. I guess that's one way to live. But I, for one, would absolutely rather get down on my knees and stare the monster in the eye.
