9/23/2007
Living in high definition

We were given four days to work on our biographical grid for film writing class. It may simple be a table of ten columns with five items each, but it's proving to be harder than the storytelling journal we worked in for conceptualization class last term. If before, we only had to rack our brains in search of a story to tell, now we'll have to get a little more introspective. Not that I'm bringing myself down again, but being introspective is one thing I'm absolutely sure I'm never good at. Despite the blog entries, I'm not close to the ideal.

I crammed most of my storytelling journal, which isn't good, because I realized I'm not good at writing ten blog entries in one night. The first story I did was a crazily-conceived essay about why Lizette fascinated me (as of three months ago), and that alone took something like three days to get my thoughts across. Maybe it's the synthetic repression that's become part of my system - a way to ease the pain, if you'd like it dramatic, caused by whatever it is that has bothered me for the past few periods of time. I'm being hard on myself, sure, but it has worked. I'm still alive, and without any suicidal tendency.

Our first lesson for film writing class went simply. It must be personal, Sir Doy insisted. Thus my first screenplay for the class would involve some scenario that, on hindsight, is fairly funny. When I told Mae the story I realized that it's hard keeping up with faking coincidences, with my writing style bordering on the name-drops and cross-references. That story never really grew into some big deal - slightly awkward better describes it - and thus it can easily translate into three pages of visualized scenes with a soundtrack, to boot. If I wanted to be more dramatic, then I'd dig up the more dramatic stories that made their rounds in my psyche, thus the biographical grid. Ten columns, fairly safe to me, with items regarding what I love to what changed my life.

I'm having a hard time, I'll admit. I'm in front of the computer for four hours and am still struggling with making five items for each category. (Take note, though, that I took a two-hour break, thinking that it'd give me a new perspective.) I've never really paid attention to the minute dynamics of human living, relying more on the things I can write about, like girls and course cards and whatever it is I saw via random bloghopping. When forced to confront the more abstract of concepts, you'll most probably see me in the emergency room, being resuscitated.

Have I repressed successfully? Was it in the way I decided to write about whatever it is that bothers me? It's fun keeping everything in tab and yet hiding every reference to an identity, but on second thought it drains you of a lesson to be learned. Months later it's nothing but a story - the things that made it more interesting, the ideals you have tried to shove into your own throat, doesn't exist anymore. At one point I thought I had released everything, and I have. Sometimes it isn't a good thing.

Or maybe I'd been too into the superficial stuff, thinking that it's what makes us happy. But I'm the sappy, cheesy person, who grew up believing in the ideals of love and brotherhood. I was cheering on the good guys whenever they're looking for some magical potion that single-handedly controls the entire universe. I was amazed when one piece of technology that promises to change the world came out. It's the one thing mindset - one thing that would make things much better by itself, and then we forget the other things that actually make it possible. We need five items for each, and it took me long to put in four more fears aside from the classic "rejection" line. I don't even have three more life-changing decisions. Truly I have failed myself.

If, for the failure to realize the things that make life what it is, I make a fool of myself, then maybe it's time to be introspective in every day of my life. Surely nobody gives a damn if we pass off as too, err, emo for the rest of our lives, right? If only to be more grateful, to learn more from our mistakes, to appreciate more in our lives, to pay more attention to the relationships we get into - and now I sound like some executive accountant's life coach.

At this point, the biographical grid won't be of any help to the discovery screenplay I'm working on. Mine's merely a story of someone finding solace in similarities, bound together by disillusionment and a reassurance that lasts two years. The reason why it isn't such a plot twist is because I just went along with it and (silently) too advantage, and now I get ill-placed apologies that I appreciate anyway. Unless something else happens that needs documenting, I will stick with that story. And if I decide against it, then maybe one of my two discoveries would work well.

I still need three more, though. I'm not psychological or anything, and the two I gave was really introspective to the point that nobody could possibly care. But hey, I did it myself!

And your responses...

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