dreams of anti-fame

I was reading about the dreams of aspiring screenwriters who want to make it big in Hollywood... as well as some money figures of what some screenplays sell for - even the ones that's don't get made. And to be completely honest, those figures I saw, even the so-called "modest" amounts, looked quite alright with me. But between that and reading an article about a soon-to-be-watched documentary called Dreams on Spec, I read some line about struggling to be "the next big thing." And I thought that line... and it got me thinking-I don't necessarily want to be the next big thing. I just want to be something. I indeed, want to be successful and content, but I don't want the glitz and glam. I'm still going to shop at The Mart and eat at IHOP. But, perhaps, I think it all depends on your definition of success. Anyway, I was stuck on the phrase "next best thing" and jotted some lines down as I thought about it.

I don't want to be the next big thing.
I just want to be something.
Not just anything, but a mix of everything.
They'll say "He's doin' his thing."

I'm completely aware that being a screenwriter isn't a profession that would make me an instant multi-millionaire (unless I'm directing, starring, etc.), but I just want to get by. Not only that, I just want to be really good at it too. So I continue my learning and studying. I haven't been aggressive in this passion the past few days due to some other concerns (like vacation planning), but rest assured, my dream won't be deterred. Oooh! Another hot line! [Scribbles in notebook.]

a poem: "tour de force"

I captured you against your own will.
You want to resist but can't sit still.
I'm shooting my shotgun at your feet.
Your head bobs trying to dodge the beat.
There's no lacking the cracking of whips.
There's no faking the shaking of hips.
Work you off the wall to the floor by force.
You're my slave and that's my tour de force.

a poem: "heartbreak hangover"

No, I'm not fine,
I am not okay.
There's nothing you can do or say.
But thanks for asking anyway.

They don't make pills for this kind of pain.
My heart can't stay dry from this kind of rain.
Only time heals a heartbreak hangover.
And my heart won't truly get over
knowing it won't be the same.

Unless you were her
and came back to stay,
there's not much else you can do today.
But thank you for trying anyway.

is it considered "insomnia" when you're on vacation?

I'm wondering why I'm still awake at this un-ungodly hour (it's almost 7 in the AM)... But then I remembered, I didn't go to sleep the night, or morningish before until about 5 in the AM. Furthermore, I didn't awaken until about 3 in the afternoon. Okay, actually I woke up from about 10 to 10:30 to talk to a friend on one of her breaks... but other than that, I stayed unconscious for most of the daylight hours.

I'm considering this an "unofficial" post because I wanted to do a "Christmas present wrap-up" (wow, that was an unintended pun)... I was going to accompany it with pictures, but you guys know how lazy I am with the pictorials. It's so bad right now, the camera doesn't even have battrees in it. I hope I didn't promise pictures of the snow. It's almost gone. And could you believe the crazy New England weather we're having and about to have? SIXTY DEGREES ON SUNDAY. What the stank is that about?

Anyway, I thought I'd give an update as to how my script is going. It's not. I bought myself an early Christmas present that arrived Christmas Eve. "What could this be?", a curious nosy person might ask. Well, I'll tell you. Remember a couple weeks ago with the first trailer trash post with the last trailer being that of next year's Watchmen? Well sometime after that post until about 3 hours ago, I previewed the original graphic novel, Amazonned it, waited patiently (for once), unboxed it, and read it within 3 days. December 24th to 26th. Technically 4 days, but I slept most of the 26th.

Hey, I just gotta say... That is an awesome story right there. And now I'm ecstatic to see this movie. If there is a midnight showing, I think I may show up to that. I pretty sure I donned some geek points for this too... but whatever. Still not big on comic books, but this one's different. It has an end. AND now I understand why many felt that this comic was unfilmmable. Man... I can't wait to see this.

So due to my reading this, with a mix of holiday festivities, I haven't done much writing. That should hopefully resume tonight (Saturday) or the latest Sunday night. My other issue was getting my CD/DVD drive on ol' Silver to work. I think I broke it somehow when I was trying to burn a multi-disc collection for a friend of mine. This suck worse than spoiled milk already poured into the cereal. I had one disc burnt already, and had 4-5 left to do. I can't explain what happened (partly because I don't know) but I tried everything I can do that doesn't cost money. I already admitted to being a geek, but my skills couldn't crack this problem and that saddens me. I'm considering the Geek Squad. It's where I go when I can't fix something I broke. But it's weird... I can fix other computers... but mine? I'm at a loss.

So I've got one week to do some damage to a script. I'll extend it until January 4th. I kinda can't wait because it was torture listening to Fall Out Boy and not jotting down a few lines... and as we speak I'm finally really listening to The Roots' Rising Down and feeling the rap schemes fall over me. In my head, taking their versus apart in slow motion allowing me to see/hear/understand why their lines/raps/verses are so hot, and how I might possibly be able to write my own. Still a craft I'm honing in on. My goal: to make a reader/hearer's face wrinkle up/frown or make them say "wow" or "whoa" and even "that's [any positive slang]" ...but I also still dig getting my sense of humor in my poetry as well AND telling stories. Perhaps I'll devote March or April to coming up with some really good material.

In the meantime, I must continue to hit the scripts. It's not that I'm creatively stuck. If anything, I'm more inspired to write other things... but with scripts I feel I'm more productive with a plan. I need to have the characters written out first. At least the major ones. I can always add or change some later. I already know "The Writing Retreat" has some weak points in it, but you know what? I'm not worried about that right now. I just need it "complete" then I will do some tightening. I also have been assembling a team of readers. I have 2 and a possible 3rd who would probably be interested.

Anyone else interested in giving me critical critiquing of some scripts I've worked or working on, let me know and I be sure to send you what I have looking for some honest advice. I won't be sending anything until January... so there isn't a rush. Well, not for you.

I think I'm feeling sleep come on. I think I will "nap" since I think I'm going to get a phone call at 9 or 10 this morning to hang out. And I actually want to go places tomorrow like maybe dine at IHOP for the last time until the new one close to home opens and price shop a Mac at an Apple store. Yes yes y'all!

script skills, activate!

Woot woot! It's December of 2008. Why am I so excited? Not sure. However, this month I plan to devote to strictly scriptwriting... or at least to the scriptwriting process--character developments, plot developments, mapping out the stories, and most important: actually writing the script itself. For me, for some reason, that's the most time-consuming. The nice thing about getting to the step is whenever I get into a good flow, I could probably complete a script in a matter of hours or less, depending on how long the story actually is. I know this because of my screenwriting class a few years ago, along with my own personal episodes when I'm struck with a short script to write. The only thing I'm limiting myself to is still to pre-existing material I've already started either on my laptop, scraps of paper, and especially ideas written in my notebook(s). Some ideas have begun festering due to inactivity and being further developed. The sooner they are finished, the sooner I can devote my notebook (and brain space) to new fresh ideas to fester... I mean develop.

(This is a picture of iSaac playing "Champion" and my notes on one of my latest works, "Champion.")

Basically, all this month I will refrain from working on poetry (unless, of course, a wave of inspiration sweeps me into jotting lyrics to something really wonderful) and I may even be blogging less (I'm not sure how true that will actually be) but since I'm fairly new on Twitter, I'll probably stay up to date on that via text messages from my phone. Regarding my poetic skills, I've been working on pieces all of November and only (secretly) published 1 of 5 written. Why? I don't know. I will publish 2 more, as I feel the other 2 may remain "unreleased" because I know I can do better. As one of my poetry teachers once told me, sometimes we write poems that are meant just to clear our throat. Once we get the phlegm out of the way, we can clearly say what we mean, with great flow and rhythm and all that good stuff. I think it's possible to still make those throat-clearers something worth reading. However, how they look right now, it's not up to par with the level I'm trying to achieve. Don't worry, you probably aren't missing anything special if you never read what I never release.

So as this month goes on, I ask for support in this challenge. I work better if I'm pressured. Odd as it may sound, I don't like pressure, but when I am, I'm more productive. It's like a turbo boost to the process and progress. I like those 2 things and those eventually lead to my personal favorite kind of euphoria: results and accomplishments. So every so often this month, feel free to ask me how I'm doing? What have I completed? Am I done yet? Ya know, annoying things like that. This can be done via blog comments this month, emails (including MySpace and Facebook), text messages (for those who know me like that), instant messages (I'm on AIM), in person (if I'm caught outside of my house), and especially my new social funess Twittering. I usually respond within 24 hours to any message depending where and what I'm doing. If I take any longer, then it means that I officially hate you. I JEST! I jest...

In the meantime, enjoy my fruits of November labor.

Champion - inspired by various songs, my life and my father.

Letter to My Beloved Somebody - inspired by John Legend's I Love, You Love

Fallen - inspired by this post by Melissa Dovovan ...amongst other things.

'tis the season

So I've been having the hardest time writing this particular post, because as most Indoobians know, I go into great detail, painting wordy pictures just to get to a point. And each time I begin writing this one, I go from talking about a lost article/essay I wrote for a high school newspaper, to childhood memories and epiphanies after watching a favorite Christmas-themed film from my youth, to how I've learned to cherish and appreciate my dearest loved ones and the material things I've been blessed with over the years. All and all, the post got seriously mushy and sentimental. Like a movie found on the Hallmark channel. And that is a stone's throw away from Lifetime! [Shudders.] Granted, having some sensitive material isn't harmful and shows that I do have a caring heart from time to time, but I want this blog to put smiles on the faces containing eyes that are reading. So all that stuff isn't bad... I just don't feel like writing that today. Plus I have a reputation to uphold being a lovable sarcastic smart mouthed jerk.

So I'll save my count-your-blessings and APPRECIATE speech for another day (because there are some people who really need to look at their life so far and realize they have nothing to complain about). Instead, I'm going to talk a little bit about charity.

With the festive holidays fast approaching, I don't want people to forget about the less fortunate. I went to the mall, as I usually do every few weeks, just to wander around and my friend noticed what she called "the baby tree." It's got wishes from children (actually children and adults) who are in hospitals, shelters, or being sponsored by foundations or something. These are hanging from the tree like ornaments, and the wishes are what that child wants.

My friend does this kind act every year, picking a boy and girl. I immediately decided to pick one too, so I looked for a wish that wouldn't make me broke... like a PS3 game, and wasn't too general... like "educational toy." I picked an 8-year old boy who wanted a book of all the maps of the world. Simple, specific and convenient. The tree was set up a few feet outside of Borders! So my crew and I went in search for a book, and found one in the kids' section with the help of a tall salesperson who looked like he goes surfing in the summer. Buying the book was a good feeling. Similar to warm and fuzzies. Fortunately it wasn't mold I had eaten this time. After the purchase, I dropped it off at the information desk like instructed on the little card I detached from the tree along with the original wish. The lady there seemed frustrated before I got there about something, but apparently by me giving this gift, it cheered her up tremendously, like I got the book for her or something. Silly lady. It's for the kiddies!

I keep saying this, but I really need to start bringing my camera with me and taking pictures to document these random adventures specifically for Indoobian purposes. Plus this would prove I leave the house and I do have friends.

So to conclude what I attempted to not be a long post: don't be afraid to do a random act of kindness, even when money is involved, and especially around this time of the year. Pay it forward, anyone? More on charity another day. In complete unrelated news, I'll debut a fresh new poem later this week. Maybe poems... maybe.

"the night we ruled the world"

'Tis a new week. I feel good. I feel pumped. Perhaps this is the week I'm back on my game destroying these files and ranking in the high numbers. Taking back my imaginary invisible crown I pretend I don't like to wear. I wouldn't wear it either, I'd just hang it somewhere so no one would even know I have it. I like to let my work stand out. But I desire some BK French toast sticks first.

In completely non-office related news, I had a long discussion with an old friend, er, brother from Purchase on Friday night... or Saturday morning. It inspired me, no, propelled me to publish a poem I had written but never typed. Due to where it's published, I'm not going to display it here on the blog and I'll make you use the link to read it. It's on Behance, since it's such an awesome site and all, I like to plug where credit is due.

Anyway, I actually wrote this poem while I was at work one day (still in the office at the time) and had Coldplay's Viva la Vida on repeat for who knows how long. But the song was motivation for the inspiration of this poem about my friend, who I reigned as an outlaw king with, on a starry night on campus. (If you've never heard the song, give it a listen, and if you can help it, listen to it while you read the poem.) There's lot of metaphors galore and surrealistic images about in the poem and tells an abstract true story. It's a poem that's really meant for him, but appeals or relates to those who went to Purchase too. I could imagine a lot of my friends having a similar experience to what I portray. One friend has already revealed they truly felt the message I delivered. But I can completely understand if you have no idea about this college, or the relationship my friend and I had, and this one kinda goes over your head. This is just my disclaimer in saying, this one might not be for you. But if you "get it" and enjoy it, then that's awesome! Welcome to a slice of Purchase life. And even if you don't really get it, at least enjoy the imagery I paint. Without further adieu, I present The Night We Ruled the World.

Special shout outs to the Dagger and Magz.

a month late, but appropriate reposting: Forever Lasts Tonight

Orange meets purple, here comes the tide.
The shore begins to darken, waves continue to ride.
As the sun kisses the sky goodnight,
a group of friends approach in the lunar light.

Sandy beaches under star speckled skies.
The full moon shines down where a blanket lies.
Familiar music plays that I know I never heard
but some how I'm able to sing each and every word.

Unaware that perception of time seems to fade,
understanding memories were meant to be made.
Laughing, living, loving with carelessly gentle ease
as the natural and comforting warm summer breeze.

Slowly, silently, we lament that time is not still.
We all agreed, if we could, it would be our will:
this summer's night would last forever.
The night will always reign a month before September.

We found tranquility in our little piece of the world.
If only we could share it with every boy and girl.
Alas, time moves on, and the sun returns to reign,
forcing the moon, stars and night from whence it came.

The friends continue to marvel at the beauty of hues.
The sun melting away darkness into light yellows and blues.
We, too, think it's due time we slip into sleep,
but we're too afraid to leave a place so serene and sweet.

Inspiring poems, stories, dreams, memories and songs.
It's hard to go home when it seems this is where we belong.

http://www.behance.net/Gallery/Forever-Lasts-Tonight/103927

heavy rain = sleep weather

Irony is at it's best when I write a prose about rain and the next day it rains like what i was writing about. Apparently, while I was writing it, it rained like I talked about... But being inside this building, I'm nowhere near any windows to see what's going on outside.

Nevertheless, when I know it's raining, or I see it raining, it makes me happy. http://www.behance.net/Gallery/Its-Raining-Again___/110371 "It's Raining Again..." is my feelings and thoughts about rain. Well, one of them anyway. For the record, this event never happened. But I strongly believe in what one of my first poetry teachers told me: sometime you have to lie to tell the truth.

I had a hard time waking up this morning... my alarm on my phone goes off 6 times.... Never heard them. My friend sent me a text. Didn't hear that. My mom called me, waiting for me to come downstairs so we could goto work. No answer. She finally came up to my room to check on me... and it was like I was coming out of a trans since I was in such a deep sleep. And oh did it feel good.

I don't care, I'm going to start it now, just for kick in giggles. THE WAH COUNTDOWN!!! MUAHAHAHA!!! [echoes]

Let's start at 30 days. So by August 23rd, I could be at home. No doubt I'll have a more realistic date as the time gets closer. I have no problem adjusting that, but for now, let's give it a month from today.

In the meantime, I need to get to my magic number for the day. I had since requested the oldtime files I used to work on since there wasn't any files to I'm supposed to work on. I have enough to finish the day with, so I'm good to go. And I will do just that!

so how is everyone else's job?

Can't you believe it? I STILL can't pull any work today! I think I explained yesterday how frustrating it is not to be able to do any work when I struggle to get out of bed just to get here to find I have nothing to do. If I didn't like the thought of "free money" I would go back home.

Since I'm here, I will do what I can to make the best of it. I uploaded most of my recent poetry onto my new portfolio on Behance yesterday into last night. Oh, what's Behance you say? Why it's the best place for artists and people/teams/groups thats create, entertain, or perform various kinds of crafts and talents. Sort've like a professional meeting place or expo, but online, and made so people can easily interact with others whether that be across the street or across the planet. I'm proud to say that I was already contacted by someone about my poetry. That might not mean anything to you, but I'm pretty excited. My words have gone INTERNATIONAL. Anyway, this place is at http://www.behance.net/ and you are free to roam about and check out what millions of people are doing. I have no idea how many people are actually on the site, but I love the community of artists. I'd love to collaborate with many of them but I don't have a clue to start right now. And with all the God given gifts I've been blessed with, I didn't quite know where to begin with my portfolio. Since I didn't have a serious outlet for my poetry, I started with that. I'll keep the blogging to this site here. But I kept my profile to my main passions, which is writing, storytelling... and poetry. I could only pick 3. Oh well.

Special shout out to Dave Stein whom I don't know personally, but I've got connections ;o)

By the way, my profile/portfolio can be found at http://www.behance.net/tsterlingwatson and I encourage anyone with any kind of artisticness to get on board and show your stuff and be appreciated. It's a good feeling when you get those thumbs ups.

Is it just me, or does it happen to other people when you get that first sip of coffee, you have a reaction to it... like a twitch or twinge or something? For the record, if "twinge" isn't a word, it's like a twitch, but your face looks more distressed.

Forever Lasts Tonight

Orange meets purple, here comes the tide.

The shore begins to darken, waves continue to ride.

As the sun kisses the sky goodnight,

a group of friends approach in the lunar light.

Sandy beaches under star speckled skies.

The full moon shines down where a blanket lies.

Familiar music plays that I know I never heard

but some how I'm able to sing each and every word.

Unaware that perception of time seems to fade,

understanding memories were meant to be made.

Laughing, living, loving with carelessly gentle ease

as the natural and comforting warm summer breeze.

Slowly, silently, we lament that time is not still.

We all agreed, if we could, it would be our will:

this summer's night would last forever.

The night will always reign a month before September.

We found tranquility in our little piece of the world.

If only we could share it with every boy and girl.

Alas, time moves on, and the sun returns to reign,

forcing the moon, stars and night from whence it came.

The friends continue to marvel at the beauty of hues.

The sun melting away darkness into light yellows and blues.

We, too, think it's due time we slip into sleep,

but we're too afraid to leave a place so serene and sweet.

Inspiring poems, stories, dreams, memories and songs.

It's hard to go home when it seems this is where we belong.

this poem needs a title...

She found herself beautifully, tragically flawed,
always jumping for love when she should've crawled.
She'd tell you that'd say different, seeing what she saw--
looking past the imperfections and excluding all exceptions.
Ready to give affection with a heart san protection.
Again and again her heart gets broken.
And they say what doesn't kill, makes stronger.
Again and again I wonder, how much longer?
How much longer can her heart continue to burn?
How much longer until she's loved in return?
Have you ever looked in her eyes?
Have you ever seen them when she cries?
Do you know where she goes when she hides?
Do you follow the tracks of tears when she cries?
That's where she truly resides.
That's where her truth lies.
And it's a sensitive place...
with gentle grace...
soft embrace...
slow pace...
wait...

Within minutes, hours, days
her heart has regains strength.
It beats to a new rhythm that plays
as a new love flows from her heart,
from her soul, to yours, and out to the world.
The girl who loved to love, because she learned it from above.