worth waiting

This morning I watched the film Smoke.

(The one with Harvey Keitel & William Hurt & company, not any of the other productions with the same name. -- It's a shame there's no copyright to titles. Outstanding works would deserve that, definately. I know I know, the thought of unanimously defining 'outstanding' and thereby handing out copyrights is simply ridiculous. And the mass of possible words for titles is not a natural resource, either. But still, it'd be neat.)

It's from 1995, and propably opened in theatres in Finland on the same year. If not the same then at least the following.

I intended to see the film then. Ten years ago. Ten. It's a lot in my short years. I didn't, however, who knows for what reason. I've missed out on a lot of films that way. But the wonderful thing about films and books and such works is that they wait, patiently. (That's something to admire! If only we humans...)

So, this morning, a Sunday in October 2005, I watched the film Smoke. It was worth the years in waiting. Or perhaps, it might just be the years were meant to pass. Something that seems like waiting is actually a process of maturing. Like wine and the likes.

Things have a tendency to work themselves out. Not without our help of course. Good things in life don't come for free, no need to question that. We all have to pay for them, either before hand by working hard on them or then afterwards by giving away something in return.