Goop of Goops
Over the next several days, I'll be updating the Coroner's Report each day; a lookback on last year and my current thoughts on a variety of topics, including, but not limited to: love, religion., death, sex, and the general state of the world.
Read it or don't.
Agree with all of it.
None of it.
Some of it.
Either way, it's cool with me.
But right now, I'm just plain exhausted. I achieved it again - I wrote another screenplay in a month's time. (I still have some revisions to do to three scenes, but other than that, it's good to go). Last time I did this, I was able to focus more specifically on just the screenplay. This time around, there were many, many, (fuckin many) other factors demanding my physical and mental attention that all achieved the current state that I'm in.
But it was worth it.
I typed two words Saturday evening that I'd been searching for. "The End."
Better than sex. Way better.
I don't mean the physical side of it - let's face it, there's not much better than the smell of perfumed breasts and the feeling of lips... heh... I'm getting ahead of myself here. That blog's later this week.
I'm talking about the mental side. The gratification. The sheer and utter satisfaction of being able to look at two words on the screen and walk away from your desk, crack a beer and go outside in the remainder of a stupidly warm New Year's Day.
I have a soft spot for my first screenplay, The Pink Room. It was like losing my virginity. I look back on it now, and I see flaws with it. There's some soft spots to be sure. Areas of sexiness that got my engine revved in the first place, and I idly think for a moment that if I had a few beers in me, I just might give it another go-round...
But this one... this one's like fantasy sex. The kind that leaves you staring at the ceiling with a line of spittle off your lip, wondering what in the fuck kind of lab experiment was just done on you that produced THAT kind of orgasm.
Whew.
Well... I'm burning daylight friends. I'm going to go grab a Red Bull and go tend things.
-soon
Read it or don't.
Agree with all of it.
None of it.
Some of it.
Either way, it's cool with me.
But right now, I'm just plain exhausted. I achieved it again - I wrote another screenplay in a month's time. (I still have some revisions to do to three scenes, but other than that, it's good to go). Last time I did this, I was able to focus more specifically on just the screenplay. This time around, there were many, many, (fuckin many) other factors demanding my physical and mental attention that all achieved the current state that I'm in.
But it was worth it.
I typed two words Saturday evening that I'd been searching for. "The End."
Better than sex. Way better.
I don't mean the physical side of it - let's face it, there's not much better than the smell of perfumed breasts and the feeling of lips... heh... I'm getting ahead of myself here. That blog's later this week.
I'm talking about the mental side. The gratification. The sheer and utter satisfaction of being able to look at two words on the screen and walk away from your desk, crack a beer and go outside in the remainder of a stupidly warm New Year's Day.
I have a soft spot for my first screenplay, The Pink Room. It was like losing my virginity. I look back on it now, and I see flaws with it. There's some soft spots to be sure. Areas of sexiness that got my engine revved in the first place, and I idly think for a moment that if I had a few beers in me, I just might give it another go-round...
But this one... this one's like fantasy sex. The kind that leaves you staring at the ceiling with a line of spittle off your lip, wondering what in the fuck kind of lab experiment was just done on you that produced THAT kind of orgasm.
Whew.
Well... I'm burning daylight friends. I'm going to go grab a Red Bull and go tend things.
-soon
posted by Bob at 1/04/2005
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home