A. Pope's-traumatic Stress Disorder

(in observance of the Feast of the Holy Innocents) 

Highlights: 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' viewed backwards

Joel Barish:   "Ok."
Clementine Kruczynski:   "Ok?"

@In these deep solitudes and awful cells,
Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells

* * * * * * * * * * *

Joel:    What a loss to spend that much time with someone, only to find out she's a stranger.

O write it not, my hand — the name appears
Already written — wash it out, my tears!

* * * * * * * * *

Clementine:     I'm not a concept. I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind.

Though cold like you, unmov'd, and silent grown,
I have not yet forgot myself to stone

* * * * * * * * *

Joel:     I mean, she's smart, I think, but not educated. I couldn't really talk to her about books. She's more of a magazine-reading girl. Her vocabulary leaves something to be desired... Because sometimes she would pronounce library... libary. Libary. Libary.... I think if there's a truly seductive quality about Clem.... (it) will carry you to another world where things are exciting. But what you quickly learn is that it's really an elaborate ruse.... The world is a whole goddamn mess! Is it in some kind of revolt? Change your hair color?... No, I don't think her sex is motivated. It wasn't sex. It was just sad... (T)he only way Clem thinks she can get people to like her is to fuck 'em. Or, at least dangle the possibility of getting fucked in front of them. And she's so desperate and insecure, that she'll, sooner or later, go around fucking everybody.

Yet write, oh write me all, that I may join

Griefs to thy griefs, and echo sighs to thine

* * * * * * * * *

Clementine:     I'm here to erase Joel Barish. He's boring. Is that enough reason to erase someone?... I can't stand to even look at him. That pathetic, wimpy, apologetic smile.

Then share thy pain, allow that sad relief;
Ah, more than share it! give me all thy grief

* * * * * * * * *

Clementine:     Hide me in your humiliation.

How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd

* * * * * * * * * *

Joel:  It's 3:00

Clementine:      I kinda sorta wrecked your car... You're freaked out because I was late out without you, and in your little wormy brain, you're trying to figure out, did she fuck someone tonight?
Joel:    I assume you fucked someone tonight. Isn't that how you get people to like you?

No weeping orphan saw his father's stores
Our shrines irradiate, or emblaze the floors;
No silver saints, by dying misers giv'n,
Here brib'd the rage of ill-requited heav'n

* * * * * * * * *

Joel:    Are we the dining dead?

* * * * * * * * *

Clementine:     You don't tell me things... You don't trust me?
Joel:  Constantly talking isn't necessarily communicating.

The darksome pines that o'er yon rocks reclin'd
Wave high, and murmur to the hollow wind

* * * * * * * * *

Joel:  I could die right now, Clem. I'm just... happy. I'm just exactly where I wanna be.

A death-like silence, and a dread repose

Black Melancholy sits, and round her throws

* * * * * * * * *

Clementine:   Am I ugly?... When I was a kid I thought I was.

The phantom flies me, as unkind as you.

I call aloud; it hears not what I say

* * * * * * * * *

Joel:   Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?

I shriek, start up, the same sad prospect find,

And wake to all the griefs I left behind.
@ Alexander Pope: "Eloisa to Abelard"

* * * * *end * * * * *

Post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) is a severe anxiety disorder that can develop after exposure to any event that results in psychological trauma. This event may involve the threat of death to oneself or to someone else, or to one's own or someone else's physical, sexual, or psychological integrity, overwhelming the individual's ability to cope. As an effect of psychological trauma, PTSD is less frequent and more enduring than the more commonly seen acute stress response. People who suffer from PTSD are slowed by fear, and are oftentimes unable to even leave their home due to to a constant feeling of danger.