How would you translate this change of emotion in this gif into prose?

I find it impossible to do myself. Can you effectively convey raw emotions through prose? Or is it an inherent flaw of the medium?

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She looks like she's realizing something that once seemed bad is not and finding humor in it, but I have no idea because I don't know the context of that gif at all.

Borderline personality disorder. Typical stupid cunt shit.

Letting out a fart which had, for too long, been contained.

a pitbull is dawdling across the road in your direction. A bus comes and hits him with the force of onethousand orgasms.

...

OMG IT’S SOOO BIG!!!!!!!

Do you think it’ll hurt ;)

Literature is a realm of intelligible. It was always weak at describing things.
Also this gif is an exempt from Possession and that woman is literally insane.

>suddenly

She experienced pseud-psychosis in the way frog women do in frog foreign art films.

i feel most of the time in literature this kind of drastic change of emotion is not explicitly described

they just provide the context why would she be out of breath and we ourselves do the work of coming up with appropriate reaction of her behavior in the situation

and then author writes something simple like "She started laughing." implying that bitch gone loco

Personally, I think it's more like she's realizing that someone that keeps hurting her and gaslighting her is going to keep hurting her, isn't going to stop, and coming to the conclusion that killing him in his sleep is going to solve her problems and be really goddamn satisfying, to boot.

Read " Good Old Neon " by DFW. It touches on exactly what you are having trouble with here.

[suddenly she had had a revelation that that CRASH she had heard down the rickety stairs was indeed a golden retriever that her mother, call her Ishmaela, had had delivered just when the pancakes were suddenly ready for breakfast, which we shall go to, you and i, before the evening is spread out stately plump across while maman died, downstairs, or was it upstairs?, she couldn't remember because suddenly after the CRASH she found that she had had herself turned into a bug

Emily stared, gasping, out of the damp window, her wild eyes glazed and darting, turned inward to observe her own hurricane of disjointed thoughts and churning emotions. Her chest heaved, gasping in air.

John, standing at her side, eyes fixed on the wallpaper as if it were an extention of the window Emily was occupying. From my seat, I saw a gentle smile grace his lips, and it was enough to make the hairs on my nape prickle.

"It seems terrible right now," he said, his head nodding, one hand lifting to touch Emily on the elbow, gently, like an old woman might do. A convulsion raced through Emily and John continued, voice soft, "but you'll understand soon. This was for the best."

I wanted to leap to my feet and bolt from the room, but dreaded pulling any attention to myself. Emily's elbow twitched from his grip and her head began to bob, barely perceptible, if her hair, frizzled in the damp air, hadn't been so pronounced in it's movement. She turned her face to John, head still bobbing, and I felt my throat constrict.

Her face, no longer twisted with despair, was slack, ashen. As I watched, the corners of her lips twitched, contracted, and, creeping, turned up. Like a flag unfurling on the mast, her tiny, smile stretched and yawned open across her face. Her eyes were no longer dull, but fever bright, and pinned on John.

I was so viscerally terrified by this display, that I couldn't believe that John seemed completely blind to it. Still bobbing, Emily ran the back of her hand underneath her nose. A quiet, fog like chuckle bubbled past her lips.

"Yeah," She giggled, softly, "You're right. Everything will be okay."

John clapped her on the shoulder, matching her rictus grin with one of his own, if only of a different brand; both were false, wrong on some unspeakable level. He turned away from her, clearly believing his work to be done. Halfway across the floor, he seemed to become aware of me again, and he presented me with a smug smile, then rolled his eyes back toward Emily without looking back, as if sharing a grand joke with me. Numbly, I nodded, and he continued on his way and excited the room.

Emily remained at the window, stood straighter than I had ever seen her before, head still bobbing, rhythmically.

"Everything will be better soon."

She was engaged in histrionics; her expression provoked an inappropriate yet irresistable mirth as her countenance maintained no semblance of how a reasonable, articulate, or emotionally stable and cognitively matured person would look, but rather as the shade of a petulant and irrational child heaving and huffing for attention as though it were all they understood how to do.

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She forced a distressed to supervillain transition like you see in bad midnight movies.

Letting out a fart she didn't realize she was holding.

>that woman is literally insane.
so just like any other woman.

yeah things in literature are often conveyed by pieces of concentrated, variant realisation, rather than static observation. sort of like different frames adding together to animate something.

This is in reverse so that's one thing.

Amazing movie

>She looked at the camera and tried, failingly, at portraying two different emotions. Bad actress.

>possession
>a movie from the 80s about the conflict surrounding some dude cucking another guy
The memes write themselves

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letting out a HUGE fart she didn't realize she was holding. It stinks so bad and is so loud it is admirable.

it isn’t

By 'that woman" I meant the film character, not an actress, obviously.

upsetti spaghetti
look mom im acting

it’s intended

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In Mulhollnad Drive there is this part where Naomi Watts is auditioning, and her face changes completely in a matter of second, that was very moving

crazy bitch