satisfaction and pain
melting fruits of disdain
compressing the nature of understanding would always be a hard task but the Krafft's dialed it through one another and out into the earth.
their love never in question. their complexion of life perpetuated through the others flowing outwardly, never in. their fear negated by curiosity and each others presence. a single unit of two, unquantified impossibility.
reckon the desire to reflect the ferocity of their studies as their relationship was a white whale for most people documenting it but…
rarely am i glad to not have rewatched the first film before this because I reckon the potency of this would have sent me catatonic.
knowing all these characters and their dynamics from their origins was enough of Americana Slowcore to fall in love with whatever small-town heartache and confusion they felt too, but Texasville is something else.
its about digesting mistakes, lives lived, circling back to foundational relationships, understanding generational existences that form places you grew up, the strength…
hot pink late night phone calls on transparent phones. supermarket murals. queer dysfunction and TV hum-soaked confusion.
disillusioned gay teens wandering through a gen-x desolation posturing and fucking and over confidently stating The Facts. Ghosts of society left to die and be dead. being a teenager is hard enough, but being a queer teenage nihilist, left to wander art installations and industrial concerts and car parks and gas stations and shit jobs looking for love in Bush's Conservative America? fuck…