Probably no one has been looking at the dates on these entries, but mannnnn has my sleep schedule been messed up, and I'm almost positive that when I get home from work today I'm going to be tired and irritable and flop over into a 2-hour nap of some sort. Which is what I did last Sunday, when I got up to plot at 6am, which is not like me at all, but I knew a mind freshly sharpened by sleep might work well for trying to figure shit out. So I plotted, and it was helpful, but then at work I couldn't stop yawning and walking down the hall like a zombie by the time 1:30 rolled around.
Then on Tuesday I did something absolutely spectacularly awful, and napped from 4-7pm because I don't even fucking know. I maybe missed an hour of sleep the previous night, and still was exhausted, even though I had the house to myself and could have been writing. Well, I made up for it by writing from like midnight until FOUR IN THE FUCKING MORNING. Sorry, I don't know why all these F words crept in to my post. lmao
So that caused me to wake at ten yesterday, and naturally I napped again. I couldn't even get out of my bed until way late in the evening, when I forced myself to do grocery shopping. I got my antidepressants, though, and IDK, maybe that's what threw me off, or maybe just waking up early one goddamn day in the week to plot threw me off. I hope it's depression fucking with me, because that at least can be fixed. The idea of waking early and doing my own stuff before work actually sounded like a fun one, since it's so quiet in the morning, and it's still dark out, and yeah, my brain is the sharpest it will ever be.
I hear a lot of people saying they can't function in the morning, and I wonder why that is when they've just slept all night. I do feel groggy when I first wake, but after a little coffee, I'm set. It's always driving me nuts when I have story ideas swirling in my head, or I want to just chill writing a super thoughtful LJ entry, but I have to put on my shitty, gross work clothes and leave. And as you can see, if I don't all out crash by the afternoon, I've still lost most of my energy and motivation. I think I'd like to tell my boss that I prefer night shifts and will pick up anyone's closing shifts if they don't like to close. (I hear people complain about closing, maybe because they have some sort of night life, but I don't have one, so.)
I've got a morning life with all my imaginary friends!
*covers mouth and snickers*
Anyway, I've got to get going on chapter nine. I feel like I've been working on it for a million years. Naturally, I'm being interrupted by painting urgez. I had L & E (that is going to be what I call this duo to save a little space) standing at the edge of the stage with their backs carved by candlelight, and "Erik"'s elaborate room behind them, and there was all this symbolism and shit, and "Erik" told Lily to sit in the throne at the center of it, but she didn't like sitting there. Don't read the next part unless you've read that excerpt because I don't want to fill your head with the author's explanation before it's given its own impression:
This "room" is like a microcosm of the roleplay -- something I could utilize in the visual language of film to show what's going on. Lily feels suffocated and spotlighted by everything leading to the throne, but she also feels like they are barriers between her and him, they are means of protection for him. She stops sitting there because she'd rather the two of them were more like equals, so she can look into his eyes or watch his body language, know him as he knows her. It would seem like he's trying to make their relationship all about her, but he sometimes consciously/sometimes unconsciously invites her to decode what he's saying and see how it applies to him. He seems to be working out his own issues with her, validating himself through her, redeeming himself by "rescuing" someone he feels is similar to him. He wants someone to see his good side, he wants someone to know how he lives, it's just what he wants is as much a challenge to expose as what Lily wants. Very quickly, Lily realizes that the stage isn't just her most "indulgent hiding spot", it's his too.
Ughhh, so basically I really want to paint that now. I dig long shots with silhouettes for this story. It's almost like you can poke your head in to all that empty space where they have isolated themselves, and walk in on intimacy that's invisible to the rest of the world.
Oh, I hope I write after I nap tonight. Please, please. please. please. PLEASE please. PLEASE PLEASE please please.
-J
Then on Tuesday I did something absolutely spectacularly awful, and napped from 4-7pm because I don't even fucking know. I maybe missed an hour of sleep the previous night, and still was exhausted, even though I had the house to myself and could have been writing. Well, I made up for it by writing from like midnight until FOUR IN THE FUCKING MORNING. Sorry, I don't know why all these F words crept in to my post. lmao
So that caused me to wake at ten yesterday, and naturally I napped again. I couldn't even get out of my bed until way late in the evening, when I forced myself to do grocery shopping. I got my antidepressants, though, and IDK, maybe that's what threw me off, or maybe just waking up early one goddamn day in the week to plot threw me off. I hope it's depression fucking with me, because that at least can be fixed. The idea of waking early and doing my own stuff before work actually sounded like a fun one, since it's so quiet in the morning, and it's still dark out, and yeah, my brain is the sharpest it will ever be.
I hear a lot of people saying they can't function in the morning, and I wonder why that is when they've just slept all night. I do feel groggy when I first wake, but after a little coffee, I'm set. It's always driving me nuts when I have story ideas swirling in my head, or I want to just chill writing a super thoughtful LJ entry, but I have to put on my shitty, gross work clothes and leave. And as you can see, if I don't all out crash by the afternoon, I've still lost most of my energy and motivation. I think I'd like to tell my boss that I prefer night shifts and will pick up anyone's closing shifts if they don't like to close. (I hear people complain about closing, maybe because they have some sort of night life, but I don't have one, so.)
I've got a morning life with all my imaginary friends!
*covers mouth and snickers*
Anyway, I've got to get going on chapter nine. I feel like I've been working on it for a million years. Naturally, I'm being interrupted by painting urgez. I had L & E (that is going to be what I call this duo to save a little space) standing at the edge of the stage with their backs carved by candlelight, and "Erik"'s elaborate room behind them, and there was all this symbolism and shit, and "Erik" told Lily to sit in the throne at the center of it, but she didn't like sitting there. Don't read the next part unless you've read that excerpt because I don't want to fill your head with the author's explanation before it's given its own impression:
This "room" is like a microcosm of the roleplay -- something I could utilize in the visual language of film to show what's going on. Lily feels suffocated and spotlighted by everything leading to the throne, but she also feels like they are barriers between her and him, they are means of protection for him. She stops sitting there because she'd rather the two of them were more like equals, so she can look into his eyes or watch his body language, know him as he knows her. It would seem like he's trying to make their relationship all about her, but he sometimes consciously/sometimes unconsciously invites her to decode what he's saying and see how it applies to him. He seems to be working out his own issues with her, validating himself through her, redeeming himself by "rescuing" someone he feels is similar to him. He wants someone to see his good side, he wants someone to know how he lives, it's just what he wants is as much a challenge to expose as what Lily wants. Very quickly, Lily realizes that the stage isn't just her most "indulgent hiding spot", it's his too.
Ughhh, so basically I really want to paint that now. I dig long shots with silhouettes for this story. It's almost like you can poke your head in to all that empty space where they have isolated themselves, and walk in on intimacy that's invisible to the rest of the world.
Oh, I hope I write after I nap tonight. Please, please. please. please. PLEASE please. PLEASE PLEASE please please.
-J
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