Join the best erotica focused adult social network now
Login
elliotlacey31
Over 90 days ago
Straight Male, 43
0 miles · Georgia

Forum

Quote by sweetsinner
I can never remember if I have posted here but:



I think because I was just so fucking lost I never understood it. I still don't. Somehow feel free to relieve this confusion for me.


Diane and Betty are the same person. From an article about the film :"Well, it seems that Diane had her girlfriend murdered. Then, in a masturbatory fantasy cum fever dream in the moments before she commits suicide, she reimagines her ruined career and failed relationship with the woman she loves.

The dream begins with Camilla/Rita miraculously escaping the hit Diane had taken out on her. From there, Diane, a product of Hollywood, imagines the story in cinematic fashion: She sees herself as the naive wannabe starlet Betty, who succeeds on sheer talent and solves whatever problems are thrown her way. She even gets the girl!"

So what we actually see for a little more than the first half of the movie is Diane's fantasy in which she saved the ex lover that she wanted dead... While there are countless surreal moments and mysterious threads in the movie that can be interpreted in a multitude of ways, knowing that Betty and Diane are one and the same makes the film make much more sense.... you know it's a favorite of mine xoxoxoxo
Although it is basically categorized in the Crime/Mystery genre (which it definitely does fit the bill in many ways) The Secret In Their Eyes has always been a huge favorite of mine. While it absolutely weaves a very intriguing mystery, there is so much more to the story. It's haunting, visceral, and has one of the most intimate and subtle love stories woven into the suspense. I've yet to see the American remake, but I highly recommend this version to any movie lover
Quote by Saucymh
Ooh, there's a Pikachu just outside my house... dog walking time




Fingertips breach velvet lips, drenched in fragrant nectar, in searing desire flowing.
Afterglows

Moonlight filtering in through curtains,
to paint tangles of us spilled together,
the sways of her body humming in the afterglow.

I can barely move during the stuttering frames,
frail limbs and muscles collapsed near you.

Unable to leave with the cold knowledge
that desire can make extinguished wreckage
of what we both want.

Something beyond us binds two together,
promising that even though you would
keep us stitched in fiction,
we'll regenerate through each calculated touch,
through sparks of your eyes locked in conclusion.

The pauses between thunder and lightning combusting,
we'll close this dangerous divide.

I'm alone for now tonight,
watching explosions drizzling unstable
rainbows across the dark sky,
the flying, spilling colors each their
own constellation coming undone.

I can hardly move during the strobing afterglow.

With the knowledge that my skin
becomes a lie waiting to see you,
that we'll connect and come to believe it
will be enough to hold the coil together
just a little while longer.

But hushed names and fluttering
sighs know how to ink fiction.

How to calculate the way hands entwine in the dark,
the vows made when we're locked in conclusion,
in the pauses between joining and not
knowing how to let go.

We'll close this dangerous divide.