borders of thoughts

*from my notebook...written 06 February 2006

Today being Monday and a day off, I make my regular afternoon stop at a cafe. Normally it's Encore but today I've decided to spend a few hours at Border's Cafe. Frankly, Encore's clientele can be a little too earthy/organic/hippie for me so I've decided to go mainstream corporate and a little less liberal (if that's possible in this town) today. Plus, I like the view from this window; people are passing on the sidewalk as cars and buses glide by.
I'm nearing the end of my screenplay workbook and I'm a little anxious about this. The completion of this book will mark the beginning of construction on my first screenplay attempt. I have a few ideas about possible stories but I'm missing the conflicts needed to propel the stories forward. I'm unable to form conflicts - now that's ironic.
She spent the night again last night. Three consecutive nights and I don't seem to grow tired of Her presence. While I wish that something more would grow from our friendship, I must realize that wishing for an unrealized reality and accepting the facts of actual reality are two different concepts. If I'm honest with myself, I don't even know if, at this time in my life, I'm capable of fostering a healthy romantic relationship. Addressing the cold, meaty truths of my own problems is difficult enough, nevermind sharing them and accepting the burden of another's problems...

"The true delight is in the finding out rather than in the knowing," Isaac Asimov

...But the idea, the glowing image of walking hand in hand down a sidewalk with fires burning in our eyes and bellies is a beautiful, albeit false (is it false? the embers of hope still glow) one. Damn Hollywood.
Perhaps one of the motors driving my desire to write a screenplay is rooted in constructing and controlling a reality, an existence of my own design. I know how the story will end. The characters won't surprise me. The strangers won't be foreign or unknown; I'll even know them to a certain degree.
This is a birth.
Extract the bodies. The ideas. Cradle them. Nurse them. Watch them grow. Hand in hand.
Flaws of perfect construction...
...And I'll know how this story will end.

"No alarms and no surprises please," Radiohead's "No Surprises"

mc