(no subject)
the carnies reshot a silly scene involving my brother and me this past afternoon. the original from a year ago seemed adequate. i even had a better feeling about that one. hopefully joe edits this one really well. i can't believe it's been a full year since we initially shot that scene. it seems like only a few months ago.
filming was in downtown. then i came back here, to the apartment, to sleep and relax. i haven't been here since friday afternoon.
as always, the weekend was filled with spontaneous drifting. it peaked yesterday when we cruised around in joe's new monster-sized conversion van. at night a five person table at the olive garden became thirteen or fourteen in under five minutes. todd bought me cappellini pomodoro. i haven't enjoyed it in a year or three; i'm already jonesing for more, anxious to bring todd back on my tab.
at la casa we made a good amount of post grade school style prank phone calls. then on a reminiscent whim we played a good amount of pre grade school style hide and seek in the dark, which i estimate lasted a time-warping three hours.
something sort of scares me. not fearsomely, but in a classical fear way. sometimes i can stay in the apartment for so long that when i do go out, i get that ever so familiar dream sensation. other times i can be away from the apartment -- galavanting and party hopping with strangers and hanging out with friends and sleeping on futons and couches -- for so long that my toilet is missing an inch or two or water when i return.
those polar extremes don't evoke fear, but the idea that i can constantly interpolate back and forth without prep or notice does. it's as if i'm my own director, and whatever script i throw at my feet can be conquered and adapted. resourcefulness? coping skills? method acting? i'm simply proud to be able to do it.
i still can't believe it's been a full year since that particular satirical scene was shot.
it's even been a long time since i said i would begin publishing significantly more thoughts than i did (and do presently). either way, i don't know why i bother. i can't be doing this for myself, because i know that everything becomes a particle of my character and is never truly forgotten -- whether or not recorded. this can't be published in "real time" for anyone else, because it's mostly misinterpreted and laughed at.
maybe it's for a fetal son. or unborn grandchildren. that would be even worse... comprehensiveness is a slippery slope, my friends. it can drive a man to insanity.
i'm going to begin publishing past writings. perhaps i'll write more. i don't know why, but i want to. wanting to means i need to.
the obvious loophole: if i purposely exclude at least one thing i can tell myself anything accidentally omitted was meant to be. it's an even easier overpassing task when many, many things are dismissed.
right?
right?!?
filming was in downtown. then i came back here, to the apartment, to sleep and relax. i haven't been here since friday afternoon.
as always, the weekend was filled with spontaneous drifting. it peaked yesterday when we cruised around in joe's new monster-sized conversion van. at night a five person table at the olive garden became thirteen or fourteen in under five minutes. todd bought me cappellini pomodoro. i haven't enjoyed it in a year or three; i'm already jonesing for more, anxious to bring todd back on my tab.
at la casa we made a good amount of post grade school style prank phone calls. then on a reminiscent whim we played a good amount of pre grade school style hide and seek in the dark, which i estimate lasted a time-warping three hours.
something sort of scares me. not fearsomely, but in a classical fear way. sometimes i can stay in the apartment for so long that when i do go out, i get that ever so familiar dream sensation. other times i can be away from the apartment -- galavanting and party hopping with strangers and hanging out with friends and sleeping on futons and couches -- for so long that my toilet is missing an inch or two or water when i return.
those polar extremes don't evoke fear, but the idea that i can constantly interpolate back and forth without prep or notice does. it's as if i'm my own director, and whatever script i throw at my feet can be conquered and adapted. resourcefulness? coping skills? method acting? i'm simply proud to be able to do it.
i still can't believe it's been a full year since that particular satirical scene was shot.
it's even been a long time since i said i would begin publishing significantly more thoughts than i did (and do presently). either way, i don't know why i bother. i can't be doing this for myself, because i know that everything becomes a particle of my character and is never truly forgotten -- whether or not recorded. this can't be published in "real time" for anyone else, because it's mostly misinterpreted and laughed at.
maybe it's for a fetal son. or unborn grandchildren. that would be even worse... comprehensiveness is a slippery slope, my friends. it can drive a man to insanity.
i'm going to begin publishing past writings. perhaps i'll write more. i don't know why, but i want to. wanting to means i need to.
the obvious loophole: if i purposely exclude at least one thing i can tell myself anything accidentally omitted was meant to be. it's an even easier overpassing task when many, many things are dismissed.
right?
right?!?