First off, sorry there was no blog entry and no message of why yesterday. I was out of the house all day and I did not think to compose said message before I left.

In my defense, I was AFK from 8 am to 11:30 pm. I got up, as usual, at 7 am, so there WAS an hour in which I could easily have dashed off a message, but who the heck can think that clearly at 7 am?

Certainly not me. At that hour, I can complete rote actions like getting dressed and packing my bag from school, but such executive functions as planning and forethought are not present at all.

It’s always been that way with me. On the one hand, I don’t wake up angry from the pain of low blood sugar like my father and my brother. On the other hand, it takes me a long time to fully wake up and that causes me to make all kinds of hilarious mistakes when life demands I think before I am truly awake.

Speaking of the morning, I had a bad spill this afternoon. ^[1] My right ankle did that fun thing where it randomly buckled for no reason, and I fell down on my prat.

But I wasn’t worried about my poor bum. It’s very well padded. My coccyx is a little tender, but that’s it.

No, I was worried about the ankle, because it got wrenched around pretty hard. I sat there feeling all over it to see if anything felt disastrously wrong. Nothing did, nor did I experience serious pain when I flexed it, so I got up.

I could walk on it, but it was swollen stiff, so I have been limping all day. And there’s some pain, but not much. At least, nothing worse than the usual daily agonies from the abuse my poor feet take from walking around in shoes with zero arch support.

But that’s another story.

I feel like I have my stuff that needs to come out. So I am trying to make myself still like I did the other day when I went on about The Tunnel. But I think it’s not the sort of thing one can force. It’s going to happen when the tectonic forces of my psyche subduct the toxic waste to the surface and who knows when that will be?

Might as well try predicting the next earthquake.

But I can feel things a-stirring. They will no doubt rear their ugly heads so I can deal with them soon. Large, undigested hunks of childhood trauma waiting to be chewed like cud and sent down to where it can become part of me again, complete.

And yes, even I get weirded out my by elaborate yet cogent metaphors sometimes. Trust me, that one could have been way grosser. Be glad I restrained myself.

Right now, the primary stressor in my life is that I have to write my five page script soon, and that means I have to decide what the fuck is going to go into it.

My current idea is the film festival one I described before. I am pretty sure I can make it quite funny. I have all kinds of ideas for wacky people with funny pitches. I am developing some ideas for the plot involving the producer and director who have to listen to all these terrible pitches. Certainly, I am going to give them a fair number of reaction shots.

But now I am worried that my idea is not visual enough. We watched some short films by previous classes today and I can not get over how good they looked.

I mean, check this shit out :

<iframe width=”560″ height=”315″ src=”https://www.youtube.com/embed/3TXWZS6O46c” frameborder=”0″ allowfullscreen></iframe>

That credit sequence is too damned long.

But other than that, it’s great. Granted, that was made back in the good old days, when every student got their script made by a hand working group of professionals. Now, we have to produce the whole thing ourselves and only four scripts get made.

So we are broken into four groups. There’s 18 of us left, so that means two groups of five and two groups of four. I hope I get put into one of the groups of four because that means I only have to out-compete three people to get my script made, and I need to get mine made. The high production values for today’s shorts whetted my appetite all the more. I desperately want something I wrote to get made and look that slick and professional.

So I am going to have to make my script shine. I am gonna pack that sumbitch with so much comedy that people will feel like they watched a whole movie when it’s done. Laughs from beginning to finish. And if I can pull it off (and I can), some good warm happy feelings too. I am going to kick some serious ass.

And luckily, I don’t have to get it perfect the first time out of the gate. In face, I will have this entire term to get it right because shooting doesn’t happen till January. That means it will spend two months in development.

I am not that fond of development. It’s a hard thing for someone like me, who isn’t very certain of himself and who has trouble processing a lot of input. Clearly, I will need to get used to it, as I imagine even TV scripts go through a development phase.

It’s just really really fast.

But at school, we don’t have a story editor to thumbs up or thumbs down what we have done so far. It’s all on us. Teachers advise, but they don’t guide.

Story of my fucking life, really.

So there is no fixed target. I am a goal oriented person, I need a goal. Otherwise I get all neurotic and panicky and self-doubting.

Give me some kind of clue whether I am doing it right, dammit!

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.