Новая
оптика

НОВАЯ ОПТИКА фильм и повесть Любови Туиновой "где я? что за херня? какого хера я тут вообще? как? где мои вещи я же не ходила ни на какие вечеринки даже! "Where am I? What the hell? Why the hell am I even here? How? Where are my things? I didn't even go to any parties! You're screwed. More heels! What the hell, what kind of clothes are these, and the body, what kind of body is this? Is this even my body? Am I in a dream? Sleeping? Where's the mirror, what the hell is a mirror. No, I'm not sleeping. This is not a dream. So what? I want to go home. Fuck, where is my home? Where are my keys, any of my things? So. Where's my phone? Where are my keys? What the hell is this? No cigarettes, no phone. Is this a fairy tale? Well, magic lens, come on, show me the way and give me the answer! Just... bullshit. A piece of glass.) So what was it supposed to be? If it's like a fairy tale, then you'll show me the way, I need to roll you like a magic ball, where you go, and I go. This sucks. What a pain. I could at least smoke. Okay. Never mind. "There's no one here, do whatever you want." “Maybe someone heard, maybe someone will save me after all?” “Lens, lens, save me, help me.” It's okay. Okay, let's move on. If I have to go, then I'll definitely get somewhere. "What if home isn't a place, but rather me? I don't need a lens to find myself. I don't need anyone or anything to keep me from losing myself, but why the hell did I end up in a fur coat in a vacant lot? I still don't understand." My home is me? Is there any other way? "It's like this place was made specifically for suicidal teenagers... Jump and it's gone forever!" “And overall….. it’s quite good, a powerful (strong) place, I would say that some kind of sound installation has emerged here, disturbing, of course, but in contrast to such anxiety, I feel much calmer!” I'm not running. I'm observing. I... am aware. The lens world... the same as without a lens. But I still look. Lens or not, it doesn't matter; the point is my own optics. As I wish, so shall it be. Wherever I wish, there shall I go. I am my own lens, I have my own optics. "Yes, it's good to be alone with yourself, it's just luxury, that's probably why I'm wearing heels and a fur coat, but I'm probably cold because I'm alone, it's a double-edged sword... Even if the world is empty and the lens shows nothing, I live on and nothing happens. "So is this life or an existence in the hell of loneliness?" No, loneliness is my happiness. And my home is me. And if I'm my home, then I should be comfortable, warm, and, preferably, with cigarettes. For now, only my fur coat is warm. The rest is questionable." (Pretends to remember the cigarettes, then shrugs, rolling her eyes comically.) "Oh well. I'm moving on." "My shadow, like smoke, Dissolved into the void. I sought peace in it, But found it only in myself. And this lens. It was supposed to show something. To change something. But it's just... it's just a piece of glass. And the world is the same through it as without it. But I still hold it. Why? Because it reminds me that I'm trying to see something. That I'm not giving up. If I can look for a home where there is none, then I can find it. Within myself. And build it. And most importantly... don't forget to laugh."