It was the break of dawn and one could hear the initial sound of the rooster in the village. I saw two boys on a bicycle holding onto the shoulder of another young man on a bike as they moved paralleled and you could hear their muffled laughter at some common old joke as they whizzed pass, displaying perfect synchronicity-synchronicity like the Catalan club playing their best passing football. Synchronicity like when you’re about to narrate your favorite story to the loved one opposite of you but they already spurt out the not so climatic but important to you ending and both of you laugh hysterically together. Or when you enter your home after a tiring day and see your little brother and your grandma with grumpy faces looking at each other. Synchronicity like before either of the parties speak a word you plead a case to your grandma to let him off the hook and skip school the next day and see your little brother’s eyes light up. No words exchanged. Essence of synchronicity between what we understand as life exists beyond words. Such unspoken, often incomprehensible connections of synchronizations are formed with people around us not out of nothingness but out of time you spend together. However, this castle of glass, with its uncontrolled but fundamental force like the unconscious, that has been lain with empathy as the foundational layer can shatter any moment. You find ruptures and the mellow and melodic Chopin piano becomes a chaotic jazz piece by Tigran Hamasyan. It’s just a different genre. I tell myself that I can deal with it and must not fear this feeling of jigsaw pieces of synchronicity falling apart because it’s new. But we are creatures of Pavlov, used to being in tune with the world around us and even the smack junkie in pandemonium all day craves stability- a steady supply of poison in his veins every day. He needs jazz every day, some need blues and some need their Hendrix but when this castle of glass shatters we do not have the tickets to watch the artists of our choice. You find yourself in the same balcony overlooking the windy muddy road, the same roadside coffee shop, the same room but the harmony has changed and the strings have so much more tension. The birth of such anxiety arises from gaps in knowledge. The glass castle which reflected the images of your loved ones are now scattered in thousand pieces more. You try to pick up these pieces but shards of glass are sharp and they cut you but I guess there is this cliche that you fight for the ones you love and we are all for it and so much so some of us have even practiced it for years and bled profusely. Today is different though. I am going to delve into my favorite Almodovar films and let cinema fill in these gaps and loneliness.