Skip to main content

Psychological recovery... six months.

I saw Sherlock Holmes last night and I was pleasantly not surprised. I knew it was going to be awesome going into it because, simply, anything Robert Downey Jr. does is excellent. They should just make a movie about him. If E! decided to make a reality show that followed Robert Downey Jr. around while he did his Robert Downey Jr. thing then I would absolutely be an avid follower of the show.

But aside from the experience being an excellent time with excellent friends and an odd but endearing musical score, it made me want to read a lot. And so I spent the day reading, for the most part. There was an excellent walk through the cold and rain in the middle somewhere, but there was also a lot of reading. Which made me want to do something I haven't done in a while.

Write.

And so Greg and I proposed another pact: we have to write five solid pages of story by the new year. Which gives us, oh, about three days to write five pages. No big deal. It's going to be a very short next few days. And a couple of very long nights.

But, I mean, it's zombies. There is no other possible outcome besides excellence.

Comments

jonathanbarcelo said…
Gave Alvarez is missing in my life.

Popular posts from this blog

No, Holmes, no!

All I ever think about these days is how much I have to/want to study. I hope that's not how I have a good time, now. Would I rather go hang out with peeps or would I rather sit in and study? It is a difficult question to answer. Just a couple more days and then I can focus all my energy on the next greatest idea I've ever had: iconic detectives and sharks.

Side effects include constant irritability, being an ass.

It was a typical day in MUS 307 . A typical day where nobody pays attention to anything the professor talks about. A day where people play shitty flash games instead of take notes. A day where people sit and refresh their Facebook newsfeed instead of follow the slides. A day where people roll their eyes and go to sleep instead of listen to the music examples. A day where people get up and leave ten minutes before lecture ends instead of having the God damn decency to stay the whole time and pretend to be interested. I mean, if you're going to be so unaffected by the music we're studying in class then why the fuck did you take the class in the first place? Fuck it makes me mad. And I haven't even started talking about that fucker who sits in the back and tries to whistle along with every song that gets played in class. Alright, dude, we get it: you are just too cool and you know everything about jazz, ever. You know every standard ever written and everybody's so...

I wonder, sometimes.

I am standing on the edge of a cliff face. A breeze whips past me as I stare out into the darkness. It's a familiar sight, comforting. The river bends below me. It stretches out, away from me at both ends. The arch of the bridge traverses the river, silhouetted by the house lights and golf course below us. So far away from us. The highway reaches out before us, straight into the hills and disappears on the horizon. It is silent. There are no cars. No planes. No animals. It is just us standing on top of the cliff. As it should be. It's late. A late weeknight. Just a normal Tuesday night to the world. I step away from the edge. In 5 minutes, I will be 22 years old. It's a turning point in my life. A fixed checkpoint. I'm only 21 years old, I'm not an actual adult yet. Maybe legally. But I'm still a child. I'm immature, I laugh at fart jokes. I laugh at everything. Why would I take anything seriously? 21 years old and we still have no responsibilities. We c...