JULY 17, 2009 10:18PM

I'm heading out to Harry Potter. He's got a special place in my heart because I figured out Dylan in the middle of a the last Harry film, exactly two years ago. "Figured out" might not be quite right. Or "him"--more like how I was going to convey him.

It just all came together while I was watching--during the scene where they were on the suspension foot bridge and his girlfriend/pal (Hmine?) told him he needed his friends' help.

I pulled out my paper and started scribbling in the dark, continued in the lobby after. (My buddy was nice enough to wait while I spilled it. It doesn't come back if you don't catch it.)

I'm not sure how much of it had to do with Harry. It was a mildly spellbinding film, which got my juices flowing, and I think they were ready to rupture and there they went. It was not Harry-specific, but I maybe just needed something good.

That was also the end of my Dylan-induced depression. I noticed as I wrote that I was not depressed--it had just lifted, completely--but I was so close to the depression it was just fingertips away, close enough to observe it intensely for a little while, before it drifted slowly into the middle distance, where I could only see shapes and outlines. I was so close, yet outside it, which is everything. You can't see anything from the inside. At least I can't.

It occured to me also, that I had isolated myself for four months, and immersed myself in Dylan's world and maybe dragged myself into depression without knowing what I was up to so I could taste a bit of what he felt. I never did that consciously, but the trail looked pretty incriminating from there. 

However I'd gotten in there, or why, I was out. It was like I was drowning and someone yanked me out of the water and I was completely dry. (Another metaphor?  Hahaha. Sorry. I guess I'm just working them out here. The fog didn't seem quite right, because those don't disappear instantly, do they? This did. I was miserable, miserable, miserable, and then this one thought struck in the theater, my pulse raced, I started scribbling . . . and I never sank back down.

I have not been depressed since. Thank God. I don't like depression. At all.

--

Sept 7 Update:

Here's what I posted on the film briefly, later:

The movie kind of dragged. Probably the dullest of the lot, though at least there was none of the goofy filler high school dance stuff.