2046 ★★★★

Nabokov once wrote in his memoir "one is always at home in one's past." and I counted pieces of my past memories like they were Judas' thirty silver coins. twice I had been in love. a hundred times I wanted to go back. a thousand times I dreaded the catch-22 trip back.

2046 made me want to go back a hundred times more, dreaded it a thousand times plus seven, for the third time I might be in love. but what was it with lost love that seemed to be captivating, enthralling....even seducing? was it the selective memory? the selective feeling? the selected beloved?

Wong Kar-Wai's devastating semi-sci-fi 2046 was an assiduity to longing; the trying, the coping when there was that someone in particular out of your grasp that you grasp for somebody else all the while closing yourself in, all the while looking for her in millions of faces, all the while losing her in every place you try to find her in. and if In The Mood For Love was an unconsummated, secret affair of the heart and the soul, 2046 was the consumption of what did not come to fruition. it's the spilling of the secret through one night stands, cigarettes, dim lights, and detachments; pining at best after promising yourself you did not want to pine anymore.

"love is all a matter of timing. it's no good meeting the right person too soon or too late. if I'd lived in another time or place my story might have had a very different ending."

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