17* The more we talk, the less we understand
I should be incredibly frustrated.
I mean, I feel it down there. That resentment at the world, being tossed around by fate. An uncertain, but surely harsh destiny on the horizon. A general dislike of my situation. It's all there. I'm just way too apathetic right now.
I've gotten much better thanks. My routine of filling myself with every type of remedy until I don't know what's what seems to be working. I'm down to a stuffy nose, slight cough, and light headache. In a couple days' time, the illness will be but a memory. Thank you to everyone who sent their well-wishes. You know I appreciate it.
The college and the OPSEU and "the Council" have broken off again. It looks like they're even further from figuring this shit out than before. Or maybe they're closer, I don't know. CSA reports that I should be concerned. I saw a nesflash that said that an arbitration might be close. I don't know what to believe.
I've been putting the time to good use. I've watched a movie every day this week. Somedays it's one I've already seen (Manhattan, Lost in Translation,) and sometimes it's one I never did, that's been sitting in Eric's collection for a while (Crimes and Misdemeanors, Barton Fink.) Then I do some writing, take care of chores. Maybe I'm better off this way. But I'm stating to freak out in my head. I haven't lashed out at anybody yet, but a lot of the time it's like I've got nobody to talk to. Thank goodness I've been hanging out with Ferguson & Co in the mornings, otherwise I'd forget other people existed on this planet.
I wonder what it's like out there - to have a real life, with real problems. I find that that's my biggest problem as a writer. I've had too little experience in terms of actually living my life, to stretch into creative material. Sometimes it's hard to imagine the way things might be for people who are out there, living. I want to write a comedy about a politician who loses his memory. Or a satire about a newspaper. These are just ideas that occur to me. I've got too many damn ideas and I'm not going to be able to write them all. And to do them justice, I have to do more than mull about this basement thinking about what I could be doing.
Well there's my frustration. I'm glad I got that out there.
I wonder what the real people are doing these days.
Keep on rockin'
Scott
posted by Scott at 3:45:00 pm
1 Comments:
Alright,
I'm being a lurk. I totally agree with your comment, "I've had too little experience in terms of actually living my life, to stretch into creative material." As a (pseudo-writer, in my case) I find I do less and less living and I just have very little material. The school angle really oppresses any chance for good material. All those hours wasted away in class we could be out exploring the world like philosophers and reaching unique conclusions with our semi-educated minds. And then we're free and going outside for the sake of going outside seems absurd. In my opinion good material is a matter of oppurtunity sometimes. Sometimes you get a good story, other times you don't. Is anybody in this day and age living though?
Then again, we can all hope that when summer comes/school ends/next year begins/the weekend arrives there'll be something worth writing about. Personally, right now I can only exist on the details of boredom and banality.
And your idea about a politician who loses his memory, have you read anything by Kurt Vonnegut? Because I would recommend God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater (or Slaughterhouse Five but it's not about a politician who loses his mind and Rosewater is).
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