whiskey, static and charlie kaufman

It's 1128 pm and I'm filling myself with phosphates and enzymes and whiskey and diet Coke while watching Being John Malkovich for the umpteenth time.
Yeah, this is the life.
I'm chain-smoking American Spirit cigarettes and wishing She would come through the door (unexpectedly) - or at least call. I spoke to Her earlier (via telephone) and I'm sure my monotone and indifferent stance turned Her off, but what can I say?
I am the flash of black static between channels 7 and 8 on the television dial.

CHANNEL 7: "...And tonight I'm joined by the star of More Hollywood Bullshit, Tom -
CLICK - - FLASH
CHANNEL 8: "...The four year old was found dead in a dilapidated house on the 800 block of -

Did you see me? The flash between channels 7 and 8? No? Yeah, I didn't think so...


I remember watching Being John Malkovich for the first time and being blown away by Charlie Kaufman's unique and mesmerizing screenplay. The film's concept was completely original and the main character, Craig Schwartz (played wonderfully by John Cusack), was someone I could identify with on a personal and painful level.
I recently completed Syd Field's Screenplay: The Foundations of Screenwriting and to continue my screenplay studies I purchased the Being John Malkovich screenplay by Kaufman.
After reading the four page introduction written by Kaufman himself, I immediately realized what draws me to his films. Here are some excerpts from the introduction:

"They asked me to write an introduction to this screenplay. I told them I didn't know what to say. They told me it didn't matter, just something. They said people studying screenwriting often purchase these books and they'll be looking for a word from the writer. They told me I owed the readers something. I said I would try. I prefer not to owe people. So I am sitting here tonight trying. It's three in the morning. I haven't been able to sleep for several weeks now. Things are falling apart. I have personal problems. Perhaps I've been drinking too much. This was suggested to me by someone I once considered a friend. The point is, things are confused..."

"...Sometimes, when it's late enough and dark enough and quiet enough, I am even a man without questions. A lack of curiosity, a numbness creeps over me and I just sit. I stare at that weird, suspicious stain on the wall and think of nothing. I don't wonder about the universe. Then a little question will slowly bore its way to the front of my brain. The question is why am I in this situation? Who am I that is so terrible that people must respond to me with such brutality? Yes, brutality. A brutality of the spirit. I am a person. I have my weaknesses, certainly. My insecurities, my desires. But I have a right to them. I'm not going to let anyone tell me otherwise. So if the price I have to pay for living my life is to be cast out, then I guess that is the price I have to pay..."

"...I am a miserably lonely person who has no charming anecdotes. The only thing I can talk about, the only thing that's on my mind at the moment is that the human being can be a treacherous creature. And that sometimes they can tell you they love you and they care about you and maybe they don't. How terrible is that, to come to that realization? Of course it makes sense. Nobody could really like me. I mean, nobody ever has before..."

"...Look, the truth is everything is a mess as far as I can tell. It's just a messy, junky world. People are mean. People are lonely. People are lost. Nobody knows a damn thing. Some people pretend they do. Don't trust them. Some people pretend they like you. Don't believe them..."


A sidenote...
It's now 1240 am and She just called me from a party - drunk. The whole conversation was depressing because She was a million miles away at a party filled with people (I heard their drunken happiness in the background) while I wasted -
She just called again - still drunk - and I'm on the outside looking in...And on a night like tonight, it's awfully cold - and lonely - on the outside...

mc (@ 2 am: drunk and full of shit - and whiskey too)