Speaking of ‘work’ (you may have read my previous post), I’ve been thinking of taking time off. More specifically, quitting my job for two years and doing absolutely nothing to bring in money, my only job being to finish Parts Two and Three of this book.
You can imagine that the resounding argument from my dear family has been less than satisfactory. But I’m in a reckless, impulsive time of my life, and if it doesn’t come now, then it’ll never come. I’ve given too much to the whole idea of maturity, and doing the right thing, and I’m bored. I’m just plain bored, and my argument is that I need to do something drastic and devastating or I’ll die. I mean, I’ll die anyway, but boredom is something I simply cannot stand.
I’m sorry. I’m going to have to change the subject.
We’re watching a simply awful film, and I’m having to sit here and pretend that my eyes aren’t peeling from the quality of the writing. As it is, I can’t leave without looking like an utter snob – which I am, but that is beside the point – and so I’ll sit here for the next 15 minutes to half an hour, try to type quietly into the evening, and wish I’d never sat down at the same time they’d turned on the bloody TV.
All I can think is, ‘why?’: why bother writing this script? What was the point? Why haven’t you taken the chance to say anything new? Why have you used the same sets, the same get-up, the same plot points, characters, resolutions, dialogue, camera shots…?
It seems that I am in the minority, however, and everybody thinks it is a wonderful show. I’d better keep quiet, then, and save my thoughts for this website.
It’s a unique kind of boredom that I’m experiencing with this film (which is now thrillingly facing all kinds of technical difficulties – I’ve never been more overjoyed to see the blue screen of death).
Maybe one day I’ll finish the point I started off with, but tonight is a different kind of night altogether.