This week was kicking my ass. Seriously, you'd think three days of school wouldn't be that bad, but it was really getting to me. It could be because it is my last semester here and I am unsure of what to do next. Really I think it is because that I can't deal with this fucking school anymore. I'm ready to move on, even though I don't know what to do next. I just have to get through one more fucking semester. I reached a point this year that I felt that I had the college level of education already, and everything else was just a technicalities till I got my degree. I still feel that way. I'm going to learn more this semester, sure, but its not really stuff thats going to open up my mind anymore, its not going to help me in the rest of my life all that much more than if I just was done already with the classes I have already taken. But, fuck it, I'll just give it all I've got, fat bottom girls, you make the rockin' world go round.
I just watched the 40-year-old virgin again tonight. I saw it a while back and wasn't a huge fan, but after watching the Office and Little Miss Sunshine I was willing to give Steve C. (however you spell his last name) another go. I really enjoyed it this time out. I think it was just a mood I was in that made me dislike it last time. I think I saw it as making fun of us nerdy types, but watching it again I realized that it was all about accepting us nerdy types and realizing what we have to offer. But more than all that it just really made me laugh. Hard, and loudly. And it got me thinking about my own life and what I've been thinking about for a while.
Sometimes I just really want to be miserable. Sometimes I want to inject suffering into my life. And its not because I enjoy it, because I don't, but rather because I've always wanted to be the disturbed artist, the genius trapped in a world of pain of his own making. And I know it sounds strange, but really, I've been all about punishing myself in various ways for a long time, trying to make myself unhappy, mostly on a subconcious level but I can tell I'm doing it when I reflect on my life. I worry that if I don't have enough pain in my life then I won't ever be any good at writing. Something about the locked away loner maverick writer idea got in my system and made me want to slowly destroy myself. And I've been doing that. But that isn't who I am, not by a long shot. I may have the ability to write, but I am not one of those people that must suffer for their art. I was watching that movie and laughing and it occurs to me that I don't want to write something that is an amazing, moving piece of literature about pain and death and loss, but rather, I want to write something like the 40-year-old virgin. I want to write stupid comedies. I'd much rather make someone laugh for a couple of hours than make them think for a couple of hours. Last night I was thinking about trying a tactic, which I may still try, which was to write literary steak (i.e. really meaty plot, big things happening, all sorts of emotions and what have you and big life shattering things) covered in literary frosting (i.e. silly, goofy, slapstick comedy). I have no idea how to go about this, but I did write a few things that dealt with really big issues that were an infusion of the melodramatic and the comedy. People told me they hated the tonal shifts in the stories, going from something serious to something silly. But I think with what they were saying about the things from before I can bridge the two much closer together, get the two conflicting types of stories working together. It will take some time, but it will be fun. And of course now with my realization that I much rather be happy and make others happy then try to prove myself as an artist I'll go for an all out comedy if the other part isn't working out. I think I can do it. I kind of want to start right now, but I think I'll wait for till tommorow. Maybe right out a few ideas and maybe a bit of an outline tonight. I don't normally use outlines, but I think for something like this I'll need one.
I had a dream last night about me making certain choices in my life. For once in my life a dream actually made sense to me. I was making a stupid choice in the dream and regreting it as soon as I did it, and although I won't get into the specifics of the dream since it was long and complicated and mostly dull, I think it was what helped me to come to this conclusion tonight. That and a perfeclty delightful afternoon/evening with cheb and food and cheesy movies. I'm tired of being in a bad mood all the time, its time to kick up the endorphines.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
You should look up some Terry Pratchett. He kinda does the style of which you speak. Then again, so does the Mighty Boosh.
Must be a British thing, taking grand plots and treating them with liberal doses of absurdity and tomfoolery with a dash of cheekiness splashed in to taste.
Post a Comment