Just watched Toy Story 5. Initial thoughts:
At its core, the film reminded me of one thing I’ve come to forget over the years: that I mattered. That the time I’d spent with the people who loved me back might have been short—but at some point in time, we existed, and that’s more than enough. That’s more than enough for me to move forward, to grow, to try again (and keep trying despite of). That the time we’d spent with our own Emily’s might have been brief and had always felt so fleeting, yet we’d surely have made a mark on those who had looked hard enough to truly see us.
And that we may find solace in knowing that it wasn’t all for nothing—that all the love and parts of ourselves we’d given didn’t disappear into oblivion just because our shared time had ended. Because, if anything, these are the mementos that would one day remind us of our capacity to love again and be loved back and make someone else happy, if only for a short while. That the past need not be a cell inside which we imprison ourselves, but rather proof of the light and warmth we can emit. And that we must live for the hope of it all—that someday, we will be found again.
New ep of How to Make it America where Ben and Cam are funding their next round of selvedge denim by selling bootleg Knicks shirts (with their excess Japanese poly-cotton blend) outside the garden during the finals run.