Long Walks. 750 Words. Friday 29th July 2011.
So, if you read the blog i posted earlier you would have learned a few things about me that frustrate me. If you didn’t read it, its me, i frustrate me, every day.
After writing that blog i found myself just laughing at silly joke on Comedy Central, i guess to try and cheer myself up, you know, if my body is happy then i’m happy. Yea it didn’t work and i started to depress myself again, enough that i had to get out of the house, i hated just sitting here refreshing web pages or laughing at silly joke on Comedy Central that i didn’t think were actually that funny, a chuckle maybe, but not laugh out loud funny, as i was doing. I just needed to get out, put on some music and walk.
So i walked to Alexandria Palace, its about a mile away and takes around 15 minutes to get there, it was hot still and the Sun was hovering just above the horizon. So i sat on a bench just in front of that window (The one in the picture) and looked out over London, The City of London is about 8 miles south of where i was.
Ok, when i say ‘The City of London’ i mean central London, if your American i mean Down Town, even though i live in London, i have a London address, and when i tell people where i live i say “I live in London” when two Londoners say, “Lets go to the City” we mean Central London, and not where we live, which is in fact London. I’ve confused Non-Londoners with this before.
So anyway i sat, music in my ears looking out over London, but i couldn’t really think of my personal frustration with myself, i just sat there, thinking about a woman named Allison, and even though i like thinking about her, it makes me feel more frustration towards myself for not thinking about my frustrations. I’m very frustrated.
I came back home walking slowly because i just wanted to make the trip last as long as i could without stopping, again listening to music and not thinking about my frustrations.
My frustrations are, the fact that i’m not writing as much as i know i should be, that i’m not making enough short films, let alone writing them. And that i know the problem but do nothing about it, i have so many half done writing projects and some just started projects and some not even started yet projects. I never really have an excuse for not doing them, i just don’t do them, and then complain to myself about not doing them. I don’t go around blaming other people, but i don’t blame myself either, and lets face it, there really is only one person who can really take the blame for me not doing any work. Yep, me.
I can sit here and write this, and write my 750 word writing exercises each day, but i can’t open a file and write either some of a script, and i have many to write or the book i’d love to finish, so long as i could actually get around to continuing with it.
And whats worse, is that i know i can do this stuff, they might not be award winning of even good enough to get my foot in the door of a studio executive, but i know i can do it, i can build characters and plots, develop a story in a three act system for scripts, or set up a novel story line for a book. I have tons of ideas, so many in fact that i always have one floating in my mind at any given second, either an old one that i’m still playing with or a new one that i’ll run through and dismiss later on. I’ll think about ideas for a few hours, then start at the beginning again, rethinking everything from a different angle. The thinking i can do, i mean it doesn’t take any real effort in my part, its the getting them on “paper” and fleshing them out. Another reason i hate myself.
Another thing i just thought of that i can add to this blog, i mean while i’m here and all. Reading, i have tons of book i want to read, and many scripts i’d love to read. I think that writers especially people who want to be writers, should read. Lots. If you have a particular genre, read that genre. I like Spy/Thrillers, so i own everything that Robert Ludlum ever wrote, novel wise. And some he only had a part in, but others wrote. I love reading them, i love reading, but again i can’t get myself to fucking reading daily. I sit here refreshing web pages, in the vague hope that a change might occur and i can add a comment to it and get an interaction going that might take up some time. I’ve even started arguments with people on purpose because i was bored, they can eat up a few hours very quickly and when i’m done, i just walk away from it. Its a sad life i led.
A sad pathetic life where i’d rather sit here waiting to interact with people or start arguments with other people online in social networks, wasting so much brain power and web space with my inane bullshit instead of focusing on writing something i’d much rather write. Look at this, i’ve sat here for 10 minutes typing this out when i could actually be in bed. Its 01:51 in the morning, i’m going to be getting up late again, around 10:30 or 11:00. I have tried to get in the habit of writing something, anything every day, but i always fail, i can never seem to get in the habit of doing it, and a self imposed deadline just isn’t going to work, because once it came and went i’d just ignore it. If i had a deadline from a studio of publisher (It could happen) i know that i would do any work, i’d sit thinking about doing it, but i wouldn’t actually do any writing until the night before. Can you write a script in one night? or a treatment for a book? No i didn’t think so.
And one last thing, to prove just how lazy i am, i’m going to copy and paste this blog into my 750 word assignment so i dont’ have to do it later on this afternoon.