this amazing landscape that looks as hand painted by gods angels (with an exciting acrylic over wash) reminds me exactly of how i feel. alone but not lonely. without guidance or routine, but not lost. still dreaming. still creating. still filled with color. yet, i still want to know:
might i one day find a complete balance?
the earth’s turning just fast enough that when i wake up from these next few weeks and go outside things will be noticeably different than before; people will have moved places and i wont know where they’ve gone. theyll be doing new/cool/different things, and i won’t know how they happened upon these changes. and theyre ill be in the background; standing like a little lost kid dragging my teddybear by one arm down the sidewalk behind me as everyone shuffles on to whatever personal greatness they’ve been busy making for themselves the last decade.
odie wonders if this is a problem at all? we all work at our own pace. grow at our own pace. As odie and i sadly know, my pace, in general, has been 10 years behind that of everyone else in my fields. i had no idea about doing the art or the writing until 5 years ago? 6.. why fates, why fill my mind with the idea to take on a life’s hobby or job 10 years after everyone else???? why the fuck let everyone else konw that they wanted to go to film and art school.. and have me float around like an old shoe in a salvation army basement trying a variety of non paying jobs that i hated. how could i have been sucha fool and continue to be so foolish?
what part of this late decision is conducive to my destiny? might i not know?? the answer alludes me. when i signed on the dotted line for this “mission” (i use air quotes disrespectfully) did i really sign up for this listless wandering of a life? i cant imagine i would want to be alive, suffer the agonies of physical existence, and not get a BIG payoff. soon. thats my personality this time around. not point in doing anything without genuine payoff. wouldnt have come back for anything less than perfection…
im frustrated by the amount of work and self hatred and self doubting i will face by taking on this screenplay. i simply loath it. yet there is no other way. there is no other work, completed and well received that would satisfy me. gods i pray this is true. why feel to the need to pursue a fate that will only end in misery? for what if?? what if it is not well received… oh fuck fuck fuck. i cannot imagine the torturous flames of hell that would consume my happiness if i failed. and yes, failure to me is a lack of success.
would an active writing partner be able to troubleshoot these hang ups?
Odie nods, tucks his chin back under his tail, and goes back to napping. may only animals and plants know a perfect peace? or need you be an even more stable life form? a rock perhaps. anyone believe in the universal kinetic believes that all atoms are alive. therefore the water we drink, the rocks we walk upon count as brothers and sisters in the universal game of life. most times i wish it was that easy.
ok fuck it. let honestly take precedence here. theres no beauty in how i feel: stuck. unproductive. lazy. idle. meaningless. i must return to my pages and push forward with the dialogue writing. one day away from my work is crippling. its been 2. so adieu odyssians, until the morrow.