Monday, August 29, 2011

beginning process of writing my screenplay

Ultimately I told him I loved the sun. We all loved the sun. Their eyes were shut, bodies flat, no questions, no answers. And I can take my hat off, or crack a smile, but what else is there to say? And what is the price? A sneeze. A chew.

So I'll live to remember all that we forget. And once I return or leave, whichever it may be, there will be no difference or sum. But this I can really only inference. We're all full of shit. And light.


- What's your favorite thing to do before sex?
+ I like finding the green light.
- Does she understand how much we work?
+ That's not her intention.
- Give and take with different common sense.
+ It's allowed. Not really invited. What makes an attempt?
- Well, what is she sensitive to?
+ Class.
- I've never seen a little boy suck in his belly...


-You could say we choose things. But there's a whole lot we don't choose.
+ like what?
- The mother standing there... feeding her baby.
+ Yeah, but she's a reflection of an act of choice.
- A necessary choice. Is that contradictory?
+ I'd just wait it out.
- Try to be inspired then. Quit chasing the birds!

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