Breaking bad: momento

It is all bound by the minute!

we witness constant change. Either in our daily routine, free time or work. We are prone to change; all of which live through a momentary timeline.

 we live through each experience longing for it to finish, thinking that by doing so we are bidding our own time with the slightest gist of a choice. we are therefore bound by our choices.

 If man wakes up longing for a change I believe ONE provides itself to our own making. if so we are deemed to live slaves to our choices or so we think we can break free from their wrapped hinges around our lifelihood.

 In my lifetime watching works of entertainment I have found no utter joy than that in the circle of development planted through each character's prolonged screen time, yet on no account was I ever ready for a work that took great command in shaping my perspective on cinema. through each curling moment, we watch a new shape taking form, a new ignition waiting upon a flame all to burn out to the fourth wall out of my screen. 

A character so alive I could swear it walking through my concurring thoughts about the series. of which I needn't put much thought into naming it but here it is: breaking bad. It felt so compelling that my watch had to stop at the end of season one, as with it came my longing for a break, thus I could witness no more deteriorating urge to subdue my senses to any other form of imagery or sensory enjoyment of any kind, by far!

Vince Gilligan had made a slight change to the overused treatment of a character, focusing on building up the overall calamity of all leading characters as a whole. with his own choice of making it imitate our reality, as faulty and troubled as each recurrent visitor in ourselves could ever be. He truly did subdue the bar to a higher level, that only legends are to be a part of. that slight change struck a valid notice in me: all humans share in their vices, each to their own. 

we all are endowed humane, made to be faulty or with some fallen idea. One that would initially shame us and break us into shreds of imagery, that would otherwise perish with time. that is my remembrance of Walter White, now bear with me since I believe not he was Heisenberg as of yet. we only witness a man dealt a very peculiar hand in life, and so he lives through his choices with the minute. Be it good or bad he makes sure to live with it, not ignoring it nor sedating himself in the process, only rawdogging living with it at its fullest. 

Throughout my drawing back to the build-up I observed some small dent of information on the other characters, as each seems with its own defect. each with its cocoon of choices harbouring its version of their life.     So in conclusion there would only be a man with cancer making some of life's wrong choices, or so I try to shut off my mind while living through each recurrent event. However, as with the first time, I failed to note the truth of such a small dent. with recurring thematic questions:

👉 how far enough can a person go to escape the veil of truth? 

👉  how can a man survive being trapped in a lie made by his doing, and can it be called a lie if all he lives is that?