Lifetime at Midnight: A Poem By Me.

blah blah blah
golden girls
blah blah blah
golden girls
fraiser
the nanny
blah blah blah
middleage

lower east side

her LIP lockED knees
kick knocked
CLING CLANG
like a noise i haven't heard since '79
which is strange because i was born
in 1980

she SHOOK like a flutter kick in a puddle pool
face caked
powered traces
lines like scales on her pasty skin
unreal, but mostly crayon
neon moron
more on

moving like a leaf
THUD thudding
clip CLOP
thud THUDDING
clip CLOP

so this was the lower east side on a friday
THIS was the lower east side on a friday

Life/Fantasy

There's a caustic simplicity to sitting in bed at 11:12 on a Thursday morning, sipping coffee, listening to music and preparing to write.

This was my life from early 2005-mid 2006.

Yes, I longed for a more tangible experience. I wanted to see what I wrote exist in reality, not just the "perhaps one day" life/fantasy that a freelance writer lives.

So I pushed, took meetings, got a job, yada yada yada. Yes, writing and directing has a certain dignified satisfaction, but seriously...there's more out there then *GASP*...internet content. I know that my friends both envy me and laugh at me.

A nice 50/50 split of:
"Wow! He gets to write and direct! I wish I was doing that"
"Wow! He gets to write and direct crap! What a loser!"

So, right now, it's nice. I'm alone at 11:17, sipping coffee, lying in bed, listening to music, preparing to write. I've got about 10k in the bank, and I'm wondering if it's time to whittle that savings down to a nub. Nubby nubby nub.

But, I'm scared...if I take off, can I go back? Will there be anything left for me? I know I could probably write 2 solid scripts in 6 months time...but when that's done? Who's reading them? The magical life/fantasy is a wondrous reverie, but is it a tangible reality?

Well, I've lived the last 26+ years fantasizing about things:

When I was 5, I was a Transformer
When I was 9, I was Spiderman marrying the Black Cat
When I was 11, I was an all-star baseball player
When I was 15, I was a rock star
When I was...well, actually I still want to be a rock star and occasionally have little daydreams about it (what else is a shower for...seriously?)
But, it went from rock star to photographer to, yes, FILMMAKER!

Still wracking my brains trying to remember if "Internet Content Creator" is in there anywhere. Probably not.

So, yeah, I'll go back to my rock n roll fantasy and live my Internet reality. But there's going to be a time soon when I'll be in my bed at 11:24 writing something I care about.

It's just a fantasy now.

Pleasant Glibitries

I remember a time when I used to update this page semi-frequently. Much like the Sun to the Earth, this blog shone strong and illuminated the dark, pointless world with its glib pleasantries and pleasant glib...itries.

OK, so I'm vaguely embarrassed about the current state of my life, otherwise I wouldn't be sitting here typing these words at 3:13am. I almost typed "on a school night" because that's how pathetically mundane my day-to-day life has become.

One day I will break out of this drab rut and settle into a perfectly nice rut. Life is a series of ruts; you just have to make sure that you don't fall into one for too long. Some call me a pessimist, but that just means I'm a realist with poor tact.

So, here I sit...older, slightly graying and awaiting the day where my hairline recedes into something resembling a bird's nest. Until then I shall endeavor to update this little shining beacon more often. It's easier then actually doing anything difficult, like working or maintaining basic human relationships.