"Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of
what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every
choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But
maybe you won't know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it
to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. Just try and
figure out your own divorce. And they say there is no fate, but there
is: it's what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and
eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most
of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you
wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from
someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes or it
seems to but it doesn't really. And so you spend your time in vague
regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to
make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to
make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I
feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I've felt so fucking hurt for so
fucking long and for just as long I've been pretending I'm OK, just to
get along, just for, I don't know why, maybe because no one wants to
hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody.
Amen." ~ Minister,
Synecdoche, New York
