I’m sitting in dark, with a hot cup of chai tea, a very fat 700+ pages SAT prep book and sufjan stevens as the ultimate consolation. the apartment smells of popcorn and coffee. it is starting to be cold even inside, I sleep in a hoodie and with double blankets. with my window open. I refuse to pick up my phone. it was a mistake that I can’t reverse now, but oh well. at least I know how it feels. I have been wondering since the week before cambodia, before everything changed. but now it’s over and I’m allowed to do whatever I want. no boxes to fit into, no cage, no obligatory texts before sleep. but I do miss it. hypocrite! it’s easier somehow. harder and easier. I’m quite good at life right now. notes on her personal experiences, the whole deal. I’ll never forget it. I’m starting to think it wasn’t meant to be.
I’ve spent the last few days working on my film script. I think I’m finally getting somewhere, the idea is about two or more years old and in the process it has changed many shapes and directions. sometimes I am not sure what I am writing about, what the story is about. who are the people in it? so I’m discovering something that I created. that’s what happens when the story takes on a life of its own. it’s an amazing experience, it’s like chasing your own dream. but you know it only belongs to you because you’re the only person that truly understands its meaning. it’s the nights like when I am hundred percent sure that this is what I am meant to be doing. writing, feeling inspired by soundtracks and already existing screen scripts.
also today, I tried to (unintentionally) get off coffee. at 9pm I finally caved in because of the migraine and bought a cappuccino. the migraine went away instantly. it’s like I’m living my own version of trainspotting.