I’ve seen it all.
I think this whenever people assume I should be doing more and living more. I wish I lived less, I don’t know if I’d honestly regret not taking the trips I have, which were only manageable when I was a kid since all the rigmarole of handling bookings, rental cars and tickets and passports was taken care of by my parents. Even my trip at twenty, I was only charged with replacing my passport and it was still funded by my parents. I got to see a friend and a concert, but I couldn’t get an earlier flight home or diverge from the flights at all. (I almost went to Amsterdam, however, but it didn’t pan out. Yes, my mother was willing to let me do this alone but not stay home and housesit instead). Point is, I don’t appreciate majesty or spirituality or serenity when I’m in another country. I’m deadened to a lot of it from what I know now was autistic burnout caused by the stress of travelling. It’s gotten harder for me to head anywhere outside my own city.
Selma’s argument she doesn’t need her eyesight when her son needs it more is expressed in a wonderful song. For reference, it’s the one she performed at the Oscars in that swan dress people lampooned for ages. (I might add this was the only Oscar nod this film got when she deserved Best Actress. Von Trier himself hasn’t had a single nomination, and he had the nerve to treat Bjork like utter shit. It also made her reluctant to work on other films). I tend to get attached to it more in its sentiment. I have seen enough even within the confines of film and television, I’ve experienced enough of other places to never go again. Selma’s more insulated, she’s travelled to the States but she’s stuck in Small Town America, she’s poor, she wants her son to have a better life, and the sacrifice is her work and her eyesight. The idea of even never seeing a grandchild’s hand play with her hair doesn’t move her to reconsider. Jeff’s not entirely a simpleton but he has a very innocent view of what Selma is giving up, she’s a grown woman, she’s considered it, she’s adapted to her deteriorating vision to the point she’s fudging her eye tests. Jeff knows she’ll eventually hurt herself working at the factory, but her daydreaming is more a culprit than her eyesight. She knows her life is miserable but her son’s will be better if he has the operation to save his vision. It means more because she’s “seen it all, there’s no more to see”. And even if you argue she’s in denial at this stage, she gives up her life for her son’s eyesight, so she’s sincere. She’s reached an acceptance she’s going to be entirely blind the rest of her life, as long as she can earn the money to save her son’s sight, whatever she needs no longer matters. And she doesn’t need more than what she’s already seen. Scared as she is to die, she won’t lose the money to prove her innocence if it sacrifices her son’s eyesight. It’s what she fought for. Her son doesn’t even see her by the time she’s hanged, she only gets to hold the glasses he no longer needs and the relief of knowing he had the operation gives her a second of peace.
You can’t convince me to do more or see more, I always hear this song, I don’t want more from life, and I don’t want to travel anywhere. Even if you offered me luxury transport, it’s little to do with that and everything to do with purely being misplaced and disoriented. My mind can’t process changes in environment on that scale. I’ve been hospitalised twice now from my last two overseas trips, the stress of it completely derailed me into insanity and it’s more than basic jet lag. I have to weigh up the cost of my own mental health against experiencing another place, and at this juncture, it’s no contest. I’ve seen it all. There’s no more to see.
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