There's an extended plot point in Stranger Than Fiction where Will Ferrell's character is trying to determine whether the narrative tale of his life (as a simultaneously real and as-being-written, fictional character) is a tragedy or a comedy. He spends his day making hash marks in a journal each time something comedic or tragic occurs. By the end of the day, it's clear... Tragedy.
His mournful acquiescence to this fact, is so pitiful and sad that it's hard not to laugh hysterically -- clearly it's a comedy after all, if really a hopelessly painful and human one...
The past year of my life has had the same ring... Tragedy? Comedy? Oh, tragedy -- but only in the most pathetic and ridiculous way.
One year ago this week, it was nearly my birthday and I had my shit "together." I was the most confident, the most secure, the most alive, and the most certain of me and my life that I've ever been, and everything around me in my immediate sphere was a total and complete illusion.
Now? I am insecure, frightened, defensive, drawing back up into my crab shell, scared, scared, and scarred... but everything is incredibly pure and real and truthful.
Tragic? Maybe. But I'm laughing my ass off, despite how miserable I am. ; )
As Rufus Wainwright so aptly lisps, "It's such a vicious world..." So much so that I can't help but guffaw while choking back the tears.
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