-The past few days have been filled with some type of creative energy. Failed though it has. The weekend, mostly drunken stupor. And in that state, I came to a challenge within myself and for our filmmaking collaborative of two. I’ve failed. My funds are low and my frustrations high.
Friday: Last day of substitute teaching, tentatively at least, I have no clue what I’ll be doing when I return from my year long voyage to the other side of the world. After last week, the easiest assignment I’ve had in the length pf my substitute career, I knew it had to come to an end, at least for now. It’s not going to get easier, not in our corrupt and undone compulsory education system. Capped the night off with some drunken revelry over a pool table at Jake’s in Pasadena. There was much discussion about being outside of our own element, between my close friend and I. Small fish, loud pool, is always an experience, not so much tonight, but it was fun.
Saturday: I was on set. An extra. I wasn’t fully there due to the night before’s alcoholic excess. But it wasn’t a bad day. I like being on set and I got a kick out of the HD Cams they were using. I think contacts were made for when I return, if I could leave myself behind and actually write. That night I came to the idea that we could write, plan and shoot a short film in two weeks, I was really fucking serious, and I wanted HD. I even sent calls out to friends trying to get equipment and actors and what not. Another alcoholic night, odd and interesting.
Sunday: I woke up late and played Halo for awhile, thought about writing but didn’t and went off to hang out with some friends. I still, was serious about getting this short done. Written and all that would follow. I had my cards read and what I was told was funny, in so far as everything I had been thinking about was what I was told. The evening ended in conflict in the dark and the uncomfortable feeling of being where there are too many others. I fell asleep thinking pool and had the white dove dream. I wonder if it meant anything.
Monday: I spent most of the day hanging out with a close friend, working out the semblance of some story. A deli, followed by Starbucks and a dirt lot where rocks were catapulted across the expanse. It’s been too long since I’ve written in script form, I start getting nervous. I feel tired. Return to Starbucks and then putzing atound Jas’ with no real thread to grab. I still believe it’s possible. I go home with a hope.
Today: Tried to write all day, I have five pages sitting at home. They’re some of the worst I’ve written, not to mention I’m frustrated by the fact. I take a break after two movie breaks to take care of my finances. Talk about frustration. I come to the conclusion I’m not responsible enough and secondly I can’t a
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