I was doing FINE until I opened that cheap bottle of Red Zinfandel my dad left here during Easter.
But I opened it tonight, instead of opening the file of a script I SHOULD have opened. Hold on….
….just a little longer… wait. Rainbowing…
Still effing rainbowing…
Shit. Okay. I opened the sonofabitch file. THERE. I. did. IT. Geez. And I allowed my eyes to peruse the first page too! Geeeeez — WHY? WHY did I look?
So now it’s open on my desktop and I must proceed. I must.
For the record… I FINALLY FINISHED THE FUCKER THAT ONCE WAS PART OF A BET — So…what is that? OVER A YEAR LATER AND I FINALLY FINISHED THAT THING? GEEZ! MY GOSH! (I cannot say God’s name in vain — just can’t — not that I haven’t, but I’ve repented and I am trying really hard not to do that again).
So here is this gruesome script I said I would rewrite staring at me. And what do I do? I OPEN a FRIGGIN’ EMAIL to YOU! WHY?
Ultimate avoidance. ULTIMATE Resistance. It is not procrastination — It is absolute resistance to doing what I know I must do.
I’d rather work on the comedy. But that one is barely begun. That one is just rolling around in thoughts and a couple of scenes — it’s not even outlined. That would be starting from scratch — Yuck. And this file is a rewrite, but a really ugly rewrite. I have to kill off a kid I like and it probably has to be cancer and I F*cking hate cancer. F*cking hate it. Sonofabitch.
But it’s not about cancer… it’s about — what? What the hell is it about? It’s about a group of friends who — love each other and in grief — would do anything for each other. It’s about — sacrificing everything you’ve got to bring back the one you love – and you find out ( the kids find out) nothing is going to bring it back. The friend is dead. and it hurts. Death sucks.
Saying good bye sucks.
Moving on sucks…
You find out there is life after death…
and love never dies. never.
I feel better now. Thanks for this talk… I think I know what to do now. At least, it’s a fresh start.
p.s. I really do hope all is well with you and yours. Not going to ask though, because it’s silly to expect/wait for a response.
p.s. II sorry for yelling.