God's Little Acre

God's Little Acre
Lord, make way for gold

the girlfriend experience

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Trash Humpers

Trash Humpers
broken, faked, MADE

Tuesday, April 10, 2018

Filtered Waters: First Few thoughts (on INGRID GOES WEST)

             Ride or Die Bitches are dead in the digital age.
              Good riddance Real Deal, rest in peace fake friends.



Fake Friends:  Mace in your Face



Take a trip along the sea.  Sailing through INGRID GOES WEST is smooth and steady, which is a good way in, though  not wholly appropriate condition to view a foray into the lifestyle of interpersonal fixation.
I speak of a fixation so overpowering and single-minded as to dictate the course of a young person's life. Nevermind (or maybe because) her mother just died, never mind (or maybe because) she just got released from an insane asylum and has barely any money and no job; she will spend anything and go anywhere to follow the friend crush.
     Apart from the insightful chronicle of fixation/compulsion, (endemic to media age isolations/social sites regardless) there is the exploration of the death of depth.  New relationships in the instagram age make people more shallow and lacking having your back IRL.
All that is left:  an occasional real reaction.
We see a lack of reason necessary to follow each of these decisions that Ingrid makes with abandon.

 After her mother passed, Ingrid is  metaphorically abandoned.  The  subsequent abandonment by her best friend signifies the propriety of the female post adolescent friendship as the strongest bond of a woman's life.  Or at least that 's how it used to be. 

        Ingrid's solution is to recreate through doubling.  Achieving a mirror screen of the one person she elects to screen is a pseudo symbiotic identical twin in the purely digital sense.
She improvises her way to a new family unit.

Making it up as one goes along is no novel narrative. America is the ground zero for evolution by way of improvisation; the path of the New.
Making up false stories is the newer America story; from 8chan to mainstream media.

       
Filters erasing all signs of  suffering as smoothly as a botox job, Ingrid self directs.  To screen Ingrid the person as a movie is an acceptance that our screens now proliferate; they invade our watches, glasses, phones and televisions.  We screen her whenever we elect to tune in via tuning out.

female frienship as TWINNING. Creating close familial bonds post mother/post adolescence

      What is kept clouded is the ultimate end game.  Illumination is black listed.  Do not look too closely for any real deal. Is a lack or a rot at the center of the hole? Everytime an interested party (there are not many) choose to dig, Ingrid shows up, blowing lines or blowing cash on distracting threads, to brush the dirt back over the spots in the earth.

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Lorna's Silence
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cutting through the walls