I’ve heard plenty of bad reviews about Ethan Hawke’s 2002 feature directorial debut, Chelsea Walls.

I still want to watch it just to see the part where Rosario Dawson was reading this beautiful, beautiful poem.

The residents of the Chelsea Hotel in New York City, young and full of expectations, mingle with the old hotel ghosts and guests, ultimately becoming interchangeable. They form a community, linked by their dreams. The Chelsea Hotel never really leaves the people who live there, nor do they ever really leave it. (Source: Metacritic)

I want to be a lost poem in a stranger’s coat pocket,
that conveys the importance of you.
To assure you of my desire, to assure you of dreams.
I want all the possibilities of you in writing.
I want to give you your reflection.
I want your eyes on me.
I want to travel to the lightness with you and stay there.
I want everyhing before you to follow us like a trail behind me.
I want never to say goodbye to you, even on the street corner or the phone.

I want……I want so much I’m breathless.
I want to put my power into a poem to burn a hole in your pocket so I can sew it.
I want my words to scream through you.
I want the poem not to mean that much.
And I want to contradict myself by accident, and for you to know what I mean.
I want you to be distant and for me to feel you close.
I want endless days when it’s day and nightime never to end when it’s night.
I want all the seasons in one day.
I want the sun to set before us and come up in front of us.
I want water to run up to our waists and to be drenched by the rain up to our ankles with holes in our shoes.
I want to think your thoughts becuase they’re mine. I want only what’s urgent with you.
I want to get in the way of the barriers and I want you to be a tough guy when you’re supposed to, like you do already.
And I want you to be tender, like you do already.
And I want us to have met for a reason and I want that reason to be important.
And I want it to be bigger than us, I want it to take over us.

I want to forget.
I want to remember us.
And when you say you love me, I don’t want to think you really mean New York City and all the fun we have in it.
And I want your smile always and your grimaces too.
I want your scar on my lips and I want your dissappointments in my heart.
I want your strength in my soul, and I want my soul in my eyes.
I want to believe everything you say, and I do.
And I want you to tell me what’s best, when I dont know.
And when you’re lost I want to find you.
And when your weary, I want to give you steeples and cathedral thoughts and coliseum dreams.
I want to drag you from the darkness and kneel with you exhausted with the blinding light blaring on us…

=`)

Belated Happy Valentine’s Day!

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listening to: Daft Punk – Something About Us