| I like this feeling |
[19 Jan 2007|06:46pm] |
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I haven't had this in a long time: I like someone and I get the feeling that odds are not in my favor of anything happening, but I still like the "thrill of the hunt" if you will. I like making her smile, but I really like making her laugh -- her dimples become really noticeable then. We have good conversations that don't just revolve around work, we have similiar taste in music. I like the idea of just hanging out with her, and that's all we would do. I see her more than anyone else I know and this could be a some simple psychology that causes these feelings, but I like it anyway. Just seeing her smile and laugh is one of the best parts of my day, if not the best part of my day. I would like to tell her how I feel but there some factors that stand in the way: we are co-workers, I don't want to mess-up our friendship, and I'm afraid it won't be that much fun if we do get together as the past has shown me. It would devestate me if I didn't tell her how I felt and only to find out later that she felt the same way. There are times that it seems she digs me and then there are times when it feels like she sees me only as a friend. I can honestly say that I really like her.
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| A phone call |
[01 Dec 2006|02:02pm] |
"...maybe we're not as good as friends as you thought we were," she said.
It hurt even more when she sad that. What do you do when the one thing you could count on decides to walk away leaving you alone and cold? Those good thoughts keep popping my head more and more now. I need to focus on something else...
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[01 Dec 2006|12:52am] |
Damn you, you pretty greekanese girl who I will only see online and never meet in person.
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| I still love her |
[30 Nov 2006|11:43pm] |
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I still love Laura. I need to get over her -- I thought I was but this week things haven't been too easy. Monday was interesting, she blew up at me for feeling bad/confused about her fooling around with her ex-boyfriend Brandon the night before and since she wasn't able to figure out what happened it seemed to carry over to me. That day I didn't want to talk to her at all and let her know how much that hurt me, but then I realized that wasn't the right thing to do because how is that me being a good friend: she needs one to be there for her and I decided to turn away. I called her up and apologized for the fact that I wasn't there for her, and then she apologized (I figured she wouldn't have apologized if I hadn't). Ever since then I've felt this little anger sitting in the back of my head and resting in my heart. I try to go a day without calling her and then I call her just to see how she's doing. When I call her or send her a text message and I don't hear from her my mind immediatley runs to the thought of her in bed with Brandon. I go through the day without thinking of her and then sure enough I get blind-sided by a simple thought of her -- usually her with someone else. I need to get her out of my mind, but the more I do stop thinking about her the more I think about her. I think the best thing for me to do is just walk away from it all, but I don't know how much I will achieve from this -- I still want to be a part of her life, I still want to be there for her but I know this won't happen. "Jane get me off this crazy thing called love." Depression seems to be seeping in on all sides of me again and I'm afraid that things are going to get worse. She was my life for so long and now that I no longer have that life I have no idea what to do. I could tell her anything, but now when I do that she later uses it against me or just gets annoyed with my issues -- but don't you listen to your friends problems even if they keep talking about them? And to make things even better I've been thinking about the times in my life where I could have been better to my friends or not an ass to them at all. Questioning my existence has become a common occurence. Fearing some life altering accident might cause me to no longer be me. I seem to be fearing the most common things in my life. I don't blame the break-up for this, but I would say that it did open my eyes to the world I created while I was focused on something else that wasn't that definite -- not to say that I didn't trust Laura it was that you don't know how things could go one day and the next things can blow up in your face. I have the confidence to talk perfect strangers about what books they're looking for or what they do for a living -- I make them laugh at the stupidest things, but I still have rebuilt the part of me that allows me to talk to pretty girls. Someday I will talk to the cute barista at Starbucks (that narrows it down, I know). I watched Swingers numerous times and I hope that someday I will find the Loraine to my Mikey.
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| Cheescake for dummies |
[20 Apr 2006|07:48pm] |
Cave in to my nihilistic urges? Oh, how postmodern of you!!
I want to rip something apart with my barehands. Everything has it's annoyance level turned up tenfold and I just want to harm something in order to feel better. Misdirected energies are not the way to go, I could do something productive. What could I do? I am really tempted to go back to how I wanted to be: not give a shit. I'm not gonna be a prick, but just be stoic and devoid of most human emotions. They were onto something there in "Equilibrium" -- emotions can get you in a lot of trouble. What obligations do I honestly truly hold? The only one I can think of his the obligation to myself of living my life the way I see fit, does that mean I'm going to join some anarchist group? Probably not, don't care for their sense of fashion too much. I want to be so many things/personas yet so many of them contradict one another and I have to choose, but do I have to choose right now? Yes, I am on the cusp on being a fully functional responsible adult, but what's the point? I should really follow my masterplan and re-make the world in my image.
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| Climbing Up the Walls |
[17 Apr 2006|02:44pm] |
WHO WANTS TO BE IN A MOVIE??
I'm working on a horror script, and I need plenty of characters...to kill off. So, if that sounds like something you'd like to do leave me a comment with the name of your character, what kind of character you want to be, and more importantly how you want to die.
J. Christ
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| Electric Friends. |
[10 Apr 2006|09:01pm] |
Warning: This is not meant to be sexiest. This not meant to be taken as my own actions or thoughts. This is, however, meant to be the sequel to "The Universal".
I want to destroy something that will be missed. Something pretty. Nothing ugly – who honestly would care about someone or something naturally disfigured being destroyed? The face of the kid on the milk carton – chances are if they’re unattractive no one really cares to find them, but put a little Jon Benet Ramsey on there and the world will sob with the parents. Even if the parents are ugly, the kid is never going to get the same press coverage. Everyone wants the perfect thing to be found and in one piece, maybe because there are too many normal, ugly things around.
Part of me gets sad thinking about the pretty things being broken, but another part of me feels high. Degrading a cherished item makes one feel borderline godlike. But maybe only ruin it to the point that it is slightly recognizable of the beauty it once had – a little scar tissue adds an interesting story, and it leaves a reminder that it was better at one time before this. I should only burn half of it with a soldering iron and leave the other half untouched – a simple contrast.
I knew when I saw her that this was going to happen. Don’t call it deja vu, but it’ll have to do. When I met her I knew something terrible had happened between us or at least something terrible will have to happen between us – why else would I have this feeling? I try not to fight the feelings mainly because I fear it might become a self-fulfilling prophecy, but then again if I go with the grains it still might come out this way. The only chance she has of nothing happening is if I eliminate myself from the equation and that would be ridiculous, I’m too perfect to be destroyed.
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| The Purple Tie Situation |
[31 Mar 2006|11:02pm] |
Last Firday a cute customer commented on my pink tie and said, "You should wear a purple tie." My immediate response was, "I'll tell you what, I'll wear a purple tie next Friday if you come here next Friday." She slighlty giggled and smiled. This morning I bought a purple tie, mainly for that cute customer, and wore it to work today. Did she show? That would be a no. Damn girls who want you to wear a purple tie and agree to see you the next week wearing said tie, but then don't show up.
J. Christ
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| Only Sodomy can save you now |
[30 Mar 2006|06:37pm] |
"I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy" is not how I would describe how I feel, more like forlorn and sedated. Remember the epsiode of Seinfeld with the two Georges: relationship George and (I think it was) shallow George, but if Susan were to bring relationship George into the realm of the other George, shallow George would cease to exist, "A George divided by itself can't survive!" That's how I feel right now with work -- you have Brett which is: livejournal Brett, cyncial Brett, myspace Brett, the Brett you went to college or high school with and then you have "Brett". "Brett" is the highly motivated by corporate actions in order to further the benefits of our investors and shareholders' needs. This is the Brett who stands around in a black suit with a pink tie rubbing lotion on people -- meanwhile normal Brett sits inside and says, "It puts the lotion on it's skin, or it gets the hose again," while he watches "Brett" demo on a customer. Now there is a problem, both Bretts are begining to merge -- if this were to happen the very fabric of space-time could be effected (at a very localized amount, nonetheless). I have become part of the corporate mindset, I even might vote Republican (jk). How did I let this happen when I was so admittedly against joining the world of average workforce. Tex (not her real name) brings out the real Brett at work and no one can see that, I start to make risque comments at work. I've let my guard down with the 18 I have a crush on -- I flirted with her today. These things cannot happen, I must remember my LBOS Playbook Training: Be the Brand. I will be the Brand to further increase the revenue for our investors and shareholders...no matter the cost to my very being. "[...]he realized something, he loved Big Brother."
Employee Number
100446692
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[27 Mar 2006|09:29pm] |
Thanks Kait!
Work has consumed too much of my life. I no longer have the time to create anything -- save for what is work related. I will have a life once this BBW project is over and done with. Having a crush on a co-worker is not only a matter that will concern the ethics committee, but takes a toll on a person -- expecially when you're their supervisor. Maybe I should say something to the effect of, "Go out with me or you're fired." Would that work? Should I just move on? Get a transfer to another store and then pursue this? Then again this would not be the most opportune time for her -- due to a nasty break-up.
Completely unrelated: I just got internet capabilities back, thus the sudden disappearance and reappearance.
J. Christ
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| Faux-hawk? |
[08 Feb 2006|10:34am] |
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I came to the conclusion that I don't like the word wholly. When I use it or when someone else uses it thw word it makes pause and question if they used the right word. I will refer to it from now on as "that 'w' word".
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| Sweepers No. 1 |
[26 Jan 2006|12:25am] |
Issue number one to my spy-fi comic book -- though it reads like a screenplay.
( Sweepers )
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| “The trademark of a good brand”: From Banality to Capitalism in Baudrillard’s America |
[25 Jan 2006|06:47pm] |
Once godliness is achieved boredom will eventually follow – the Fantastic Four’s Doctor Doom has found this out on numerous occasions. America is the founding nation of revolution and success; this is the country that gave the finger to the strongest nation in the world – Britain – and has never looked back since. But once our apotheosis was accomplished we had nothing to do but to give into whatever delighted us, and we quickly became a country fascinated by our own gods & goddesses and their doings. We are a country that is star-struck – the British pop singer Robbie Williams best describes America in his song Millennium, “We’ve [Americans] got stars directing our fate,” everything from what fragrance to wear from what über-expensive sports car to pine over we learn from our celebrities. We do not give consideration to the possibility of a state going nearly bankrupt over a wholly unnecessary election, but the second the verdict is in for the latest celebrity trial we give our undivided attention to the media circuit. This was a country founded on the most radical of ideas: liberty, yet we choose to be slaves to a media mindset that hypes-up everything from crazed 14 year-old shooters to the latest weight-loss trend. This may come as a shock to some, but we are country without culture, or as Jean Baudrillard describes it in Utopia Achieved, “[...] it [America] has no past and no founding truth,” (Baudrillard 110); we lack a core and therefore we have no anchor – we are free to do whatever we want – this is apotheosis achieved.
We have freedom versus the rest of the world – Europe in particular – who has history and consequently has an anchor to keep it in place, but having history implies having a culture. We have freedom, but we lack a history meaning...we lack a culture, but to some this may seem a bit too hard to believe for this is the nation that unleashed Disneyland, McDonald’s, Paris Hilton, and democracy onto the unsuspecting world, yet it is true that we lack a definable culture. One could say our lack of a culture is our culture, but that will not do, we must understand our “culture” in order to truly define what it is. One of the key tenets of American “culture” is what some may call our “in your face” attitude or as Baudrillard puts it, “[...] a violent extraversion,” (Baudrillard 109) we have a tendency not to care what the rest of the world thinks, especially if they do not agree with us. America decides to invade a nation and goes to the global community for support and when the majority of the world believes it is a bad idea, we go ahead with it anyway. Not only does this display the way we do not care what others think, but it also shows how we do not think before we act – unlike Europe who will spend years (sometimes centuries) developing a plan of action and may or may not act upon that plan; the development of nuclear arms was all action and no theory, meaning there was no thought of the future use of the weapons – no one took into consideration the possibility of an arms race or the technology falling into the wrong hands. Baudrillard highlights a very important component of the American “culture” we are completely focused on modernity. We literally “live in the now”; we are only concerned with the moment, nothing before and nothing after. It is amazing that we have not ruined ourselves yet, due to our lack of looking ahead and worrying about what effect our actions will have on the global community – we are drifting along without an anchor and have yet to hit an iceberg.
All of this doing what we please grows rather mundane, thus explaining why America lives from moment to moment looking the latest and greatest. Like Marla Singer looking for a better fix, America takes what happens to be popular with some segment of the population and markets it for all; punk music is a prime example of the marketing of trends in America. What was unique and an oddity yesterday will become the next big obsession coming down the runway or red-carpet today – it seems as though this is the only time America looks back, just to see what the new style for everyone will be. At the end of the 20th century various male celebrities – mainly pop-singers such as members from N’Synch, the Backstreet Boys, and Latin sensation Ricky Martin – were bleaching their hair and so did a large majority of the “regular” people. The low-rise jean which leads to the exposure of the thong that was a huge fashion statement amongst celebrities such as Britney Spears and Paris Hilton (if she can even be considered a celebrity) became the trend among young-women. The Beatles best describe how much America has the need to remain trendy in order to have eyes on us at all times, “Got to be good-looking cos he’s so hard to see,”; here individuality means being a part of the mass trend at the time, being unique does not exist in America. But the banality of America has reached rock bottom when a person can be given celebrity status when they have done nothing but be a member of a wealthy family, as is the case with Paris Hilton – it is not what you do, but who you know (or in some instances who you do) that makes you famous in America. Even the status of celebrity is boring, but nothing is as mundane as the life of the average person in America. We sit and wait for the next reality show on TV to come on, or grab the latest magazine to find out which celebrity is sleeping with whom, or keep an attentive eye on style just so we do not wear something from “last season”. We spend so much money on the media in order to found out what the media wants us to buy next. Still, our culture is banal and the only way we seem to enjoy ourselves anymore is to ship our “culture” overseas.
America’s media and capitalism have bred and have given birth to a virus which has ravished our nation and now looks for a new host – of course, we are unaware of this fact and gladly ship over corporate executives who will help lay down the groundwork for fast-food chains in Somalia. Not only have we opened up Pandora’s Box of liberty and democracy, but we have also opened up the Pandora’s Box of media and capitalism. Much like the hidden text of Brian Wood’s Channel Zero, every country that gives into our exports is willing to “Buy American”; not only are they buying products that originated in America (although were not produced here), but they are buying the new American Dream: do not be different, buy what we say and someday you will be rich and popular. America is no longer a nation of liberty and international service, America is now only a corporation:
“The society’s look is a self-publicizing one. The American
flag itself bears witness to this by its omnipresence, in fields and built-up areas, at service stations, and on graves in the cemeteries, not as a heroic sign, but as the trademark of a
good brand. It is simply the label of the finest successful
international enterprise, the US,” (Baudrillard 116).
The American flag no longer has a meaning or if it does have a meaning it is simply x and anyone can plug in whatever they choose for x and that is the new meaning of the American flag, and consequently that becomes the new meaning of America. America is always ready for the latest trend and we have malleable meanings of who and what we stand for to make sure we are always “ahead of the times”.
Simply put, capitalism is our culture. We thrive on supply and demand; we get excited with the reminder that there is a free and open market. It is with capitalism as our culture that allows us to constantly remake our image. Capitalism is our core, our anchor, and we will do what is necessary to protect it. In regard to interaction in the global community we only look in the best interest for capitalism; the amount of protection and attention we give capitalism is always dependent on the fluctuating trends in culture – but no matter how radical the trends may be the destruction of our anchor is never present. Although, America is always on the cusp of modernity and there is still the distinct possibility that what one considers our core/culture today may be entirely different from what it will be considered tomorrow. In the end one may have to admit defeat and concede that America is without a culture, which is in fact the culture of America.
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| The Universal: A mere piece of semi-autobiographical fiction. |
[25 Jan 2006|12:12am] |
“In Your Eyes” pipes in from the store’s CD and immediately a montage of Say Anything plays in my mind – and I can’t help but realize I will never have a chance with her. The cute customer who has completely restored my faith in humanity walks out, I say goodbye but her plain-looking friend is the only one to acknowledge me. At one point in my life I would have mustered up the courage needed and I would have at least talked to her, maybe even tried to get her phone number – at one point in my life I had that special ability to take to girls without feeling inadequate or impotent, not anymore. I am a living, breathing softie; there is no known cure for my dysfunction. Along with my lack of communication there is a complete desensitization – I pine for the day I will taste again or will enjoy music with the same veracity as all youth should – don’t get me wrong it’s not like I have no senses at all, but it’s more like everything is being filtered from far away and there is something lost in transit. A copy of a copy sent via fax from Hong Kong. The volume and brightness has been turned down on the television set that used to by life. Depression doesn’t quite describe it but it’ll have to do. Granted, I hold neither degree nor doctorate in the field of psychology but I do know that I am not depressed mainly for the sliver of self-actualization that holds me together. It’s kind of funny and sad that the only way I can get through each emotionless and senseless day is by holding what little pieces of me there are left together. I have contingency protocols drawn-up in the off chance that one day comes and I wish to break out of this case, of course they are on the dark-side of the dramatic scale and will involve a large amount of lies (and the premeditated destruction of several close-relationships) but this will all be done for my greater-good – because at the end of the day the individual is all that truly matters: I know I exist, do you?
Some could call this a mid-life crisis, but that would imply that I’ll be dead by the age of forty – that’s a sober thought. And some could call this the plight all beings will face at one point in their lives due to the meaningless nature of the cosmos, facing the absurd, – I rather like that one, it makes it seem that my fuck-up of a life is deeply rooted in some philosophical mindset. But here is the most likely truth: I have failed. There is no reset button for this videogame, I am sadly stuck with the character I created and can’t find the cheat codes. I’m stuck on level three while all my friends are on level nine. I believe I hit my zenith somewhere in the beginning of my senior year of high school and have been on a slow, yet very steady decline ever since. I’ve crashed safely with only my ego and will damaged. I have become the person all parents’ fear their child will turn into – my parents have been gone for quite sometime, not dead just distant. Like father like son. I will assume the mantel of Prince of All Lies some day; I can honestly say my father speaks with a forked tongue. And like those who listen to him, may I suggest you all begin to doubt what I say?
Another point to refute the possibility of me being depressed, my sex-drive has kicked into high-gear. Although I have yet to fully engage in the delights of the flesh I have a strong feeling they will be muted as well. My imagination is the best piece of ass I will ever have. I need a catalyst to be burn me into my next stage – liberate me. Nietzsche impacted my life very heavily and at a young age – I blame him and all his angst for my current position.
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| “Intellect mainly for dissimulation”: Deconstructing Ourselves to Freedom |
[24 Jan 2006|11:52pm] |
We are not free. Laws inhibit our actions. Psychology provides us with the proof that our decisions are not our own, as do several branches of physics. Even the Almighty tells us we are not free – we are all predestined to be sinners or saints. We are merely caged animals who are not aware of the restraints placed on us. Every action and decision before us has had an influence in how we function, as will our actions and decisions influence the lives of countless generations after us. All around us is some form of imprisonment – some instances more obvious than others – and all around us are institutions designed to keep us “in check” with the norms and orders of society. Choice is not an option, it is merely an illusion cast by those in power upon those who lack any semblance of power; choice is a metaphor for something rather sinister – absolute control. Yet, we are free and all one must do is deconstruct their environment and they will learn the truth – there is no truth: there is no God, there is no predestination or determinism, there are no laws, there is no morality – there is no limit upon the possibilities of humanity. Freedom does actually exist. Like the Buddhist burning the ego and the material world, one must burn what they know to be true – forget the laws pressed upon you by society; negate what behaviorists, quantum physicists, and philosophers have told you about choice; you can do anything you want simply because you can. “Free at last, free at last. Thank you Nietzsche, for we are free at last!”
Friedrich Nietzsche’s On Truth and Lies in a Nonmoral Sense acts like a manifesto of how humanity is a prisoner to logic and knowledge, but also serves as an escape plan. Nietzsche communicates to the reader – through his fervent writing style – that logic and knowledge are what keep us alive, yet at the same time imprison us; “[...] intellect, which was [...] a device for detaining them [humanity] a minute within existence. For without this addition [intellect] they would have every reason to flee this existence as quickly as Lessing’s son,” (451). This work reveals to us that we are free, not only because we have the keys to unlock the chains that restrain us but also because the chains that restrain us do not actually exist. As mentioned in Michel Foucault’s Panopticism, all institutions exist to control, especially the institution of intellect that Nietzsche speaks of. But the interesting point about intellect is that it does not exist outside the human mind; it was an invention – “[...] clever beasts invented knowing,” (451). It becomes rather clear that intellect is pointless if it becomes extinct with the dying breath of the last human being. Some may argue that Nietzsche’s attack on intellect and metaphors is self-defeating for the very fact that he uses intellect and metaphors to explain his position, but there are several cases that can be made in his defense. One can say that Nietzsche is – to borrow a metaphor – “fighting fire with fire” with his use of intellect and metaphor to defeat their purpose. Another defense is one of the institutionalization of the need for knowing: taking a page of Foucault, we have been taught that we cannot exist with language or intellect – yet for all we know that could be a lie designed by an institution in order to maintain its existence. It becomes a dilemma after a while though, for once we free ourselves from one institution we find ourselves in another – and this may continue ad infinitum like a babushka doll, much like Number Six believing he has escaped the Village only to find himself still under the watchful eye and complete control of Number Two. In order to understand our potential we must be like Neo – question every authority, and defy every law (universal or otherwise) – and eventually find our way out of the cave and into “the desert of the real”.
Nietzsche’s criticism of our use of metaphor echoes back to the days of Plato and flashes forward to the writings of Jean Baudrillard; not only are we chained in the cave and believe the shadows to be real, but we have even ignored the original concept and only believe the phantom. We have consented to our day-to-day metaphors and no longer are concerned with where they came from – we ignore their origins. A comedic example of the overuse – or abuse – of metaphor goes like this: A journalist visits one of the world’s oldest abbeys and meets one of the head monks. While touring the grounds of the sacred establishment the two come across a room filled with about a dozen monks all vigorously copying the work out of ancient texts. The journalist looks at the holy men’s actions with wide curiosity and asks his guide, “What are they doing?” The superior monk turns to the journalist and explains, “They are copying the works of the monks before them in order to preserve our heritage and what we stand for.” The journalist thinks about it for a moment and then asks, “What if someone were to write down the wrong word or leave out a section entirely, then wouldn’t the monks who copied the text after them be carrying on the mistake?” The monk had never thought of this and quickly excused himself to the catacombs of the abbey were the original copies of all their holy texts were kept. After several days the journalist and other monks became worried about the head monk, so they all went separately to find the missing monk. After several hours of searching the journalist comes across the monk sitting in a darkened room weeping loudly as he clutches a book in his hands. The journalist makes his way to the monk and asks, “What’s wrong?” The sadden monk turns and replies, “It says celebrate.” Granted, the monk searching for the original version of his text was rather easy, but for humanity to find out the original forms of their words will prove impossible. Jane Tompkins’s “Indians”: Textualism, Morality, and the Problem of History deals with the very issue of trying to know history – when all the facts are piled together all one can do is make a guess, or as Nietzsche would put it, “There are no facts, only interpretations.” (451).
We have looked through the lies that have been imposed upon us since even before we were born and now can make the choice to change up the system and truly become free, or live the lies we are accustomed to – simply realizing “ignorance is bliss”. But for those of us who choose to be different and choose to stray away from the institutions of society walk a fine line – we are still tainted with the concepts of the “old world” and may let these ideals influence our course of action, regardless if we are aware of it; there is even the issue that these concepts we are fighting against helped sway us into being the very people we are today. When it comes down to it we are free, but we have to be aware of our actions in order to fall into the pitfalls of knowing and become imprisoned again. Perhaps the life after deconstructing our surroundings will be unlike anything one as ever experienced and therefore getting ensnared by intellect is not possible, but until that day comes all we can do is wonder and hope that we will be the lucky one who will break away from it all and will know freedom.
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| This seems right... |
[24 Jan 2006|07:07pm] |
 | Twitch | | People Iced: | Twenty One | | Car Bombs Planted: | Eighteen | | Favorite Weapon | Bare Hands | | Arms Broken: | Sixteen | | Eyes Gouged: | Eleven | | Tongues Cut Off: | Eight | | Biggest Enemy: | Bloody Thumb | Get Your HITMAN Name |
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| WTF?! |
[24 Jan 2006|07:02pm] |
This is the original:
And this is the close-up:
See anything odd?
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| Fucking emotional aggregates!! |
[18 Jan 2006|05:47pm] |
I've been on a writing frenzy as of late, but not all is well. When I write something I feel it's absolute shit, but then I tell myself to write because I'll most likely forget what it was, also I'll put it down in writing so I have something to work with and can always tweak it a little later. I blame my latest addiction to Napster for this -- everytime I get a new song I think, "That would be perfect a scene like this..." or "That could totally be turned into a movie". The worst part is the fact that I want to completely overhaul my Sweet Blue script -- I've got tons of ideas for scenes and complete re-workings of characters -- but I have no idea of how I'll start it off, and that is a huge problem. I mean, how can I have a screenplay with no beginning? I really can't go back and write it later, I've tried -- that is a long and semi-painful process. And I've been looking for writing-partners so that should help with the lack of creativity in certain areas. I really want to write a horror script, but nothing is flowing as of yet, any suggestions? What kind of horror movies would you like to see? HELP ME!
J. Christ
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| Does it burn when you pee? |
[14 Jan 2006|10:12pm] |
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So, I finally have the internet at my house and it is a little too addicting. But then again being addicted to the internet is probably better for me than being addicted to crack -- man those were some good times. I came to the realization that Portishead is really mellowing and depressing at the same time.
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