quanta and I went to see Lost in Translation on Saturday afternoon. To me, it was almost a surreal movie, reflecting parts of my own life. Like Charlotte, I am trying to figure out who I am. I want to be a writer, but I hate everything I write. I am in this city because this is where my fiancee works. I am a lost soul, wandering around, never feeling like I fit in.

There is a scene where Charlotte goes to an ikebana class. She seems overwhelmed by the skill the other ladies show. To me, it is like she wants to join in, but she is afraid that she won’t be good enough. Yet, later, she places beautiful paper flowers around her hotel room. I see myself in this too. I’d like to think I am good at certain things, but when I compare myself to others I feel like I am a fraud. Instead, I keep what I do to myself, either by keeping it in our home or inside.

Unfortunately, Lost in Translation doesn’t provide any answers. The characters feel out of place for the entire movie, with few exceptions. And never once do they discover what to do to make things better. Bob just says that “The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you.” Words to live by, I suppose. But they don’t help me feel any less lost.

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