blabber phase #01

i just wrote a very good friend of mine a cribby cribby note about how my head all so consumed by the that stupid term – writer’s block. only when i hit send i was looking at the email and i realized the act of writing hadn’t really been blocked. i found pretty easy and quite fluent while typed off. blah blah blah. so. with all permission from readers who choose to be readers here, you will for the rest of the scrolling down as this might take, i will be blabbering. blah blah blah. it’s after all strange sounds i make that i can understand if i have anything at all left to say to the world and then i might be able to do the mental math of the viability of my energies spent in pursuing two deadlines for script submissions. must say, with no story in my head. 

sometimes, i let more than a few minutes pass away wondering how it might be a good option to at least dream about transforming into ingi (our cat). her life doubtlessly more peaceful. mine just excessively boring because i so easily run out of steam. i am always sitting on the top of my head. no wonder my shoulder pains so much. something like that stupid American movie Shutter. i hear there’s a more scarier Japanese version. everything seems to have a scarier Japanese version. 

so what is troubling me nothing. my laziness. my inability to push myself. oh my god i sound like my fake IAS coach. blah blah blah. does a director have the right to put three people on stage and just make them say blah blah blah for ten minutes, only because my head is saying that now? blah blah blah. maybe, if i’ll be able to stand my ground at after parties talking about the importance of experimental theatre in shattering the audience’s normal expectations of a medium of storytelling. i can’t. 

so is script writing at all viable for you sam? maybe, you have to rethink this entire thing. is writing for you? is theatre for you? there we go, slump. 

all the ideas and exciting new stories that seemed to come across do not sit well in the limits of these deadlines or festivals. and when i have to write for something else. slump. 

such impossibility of getting anything done, with a head like mine. no focus. no purpose. no. 

i am always just worrying about daily problems related to banks, bills, shifting house… and then i shout inside my head no one should be expecting me to write now. No one is. Really. 

i just have so many people living inside my head. fighting with each other. 

digressions. distractions. 


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