Sunday, October 23, 2005

Terseness In Six Movements

1. I'm beginning to feel like I'm one big joke to everyone; like I'm a caricature that provides amusement or like a depository of ridicule.

2. I heard that girls are more attracted to guys with the bad boy image, those pseudo-rebellious, brooding, faux-James Dean, the-world-doesn't-understand-me types. No market for boy-next-door geek, eh? That explains all this loneliness. Probably should change my image if I want someone in my life. But then, imagine how ridiculous I'll look.

3. Fuck cheaters.

4. I freeze in my socks. I can't move and I barely breathe. I can't open my mouth fearing what I would say isn't funny enough or witty enough. So I'm reduced to glances that get me nowhere, thinking that cowardice can be mistaken for mysterious brooding. (see number 2)

5. You know that feeling before the first kiss, when both of you are just staring at each other, and you don't know what to do and you're trying to hide how happy you are by forcing down your smile making you look like you just ate a lemon and your heart begins to sound like a Led Zeppelin drum solo?

6. There was one time when I thought I was going to experience love again. What happened? Fate spat on my lap. Again. Moral of the story: Fate sucks. Don't believe in it.

Have a pleasant evening.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Of Gratitude and Human Intangibles

A computer model formula was once devised to determine the probability of getting a movie made. Once all the factors, obstacles and vagaries of film development were quantified and plugged into the formula, the computer spit out a number: zero. The computer decided, given all the difficulties that surround launching a film production, there was a zero percent chance of actually getting a movie made.

Yet movies get made all the time. So how is this possible, given the zero percent probability ascertained by the computer?

It is because the computer failed to give proper weight to that human intangible that makes all impossible tasks possible: persistence.

It separates the doers from those who are undone. It turns the perpetually red light green. And we're not talking about the ordinary run-of-the mill persistence. Not the kind required simply to finish marathons or run for elected office. No, we're talking about a dogged, extraordinary, near-superhuman type of persistence. Because ultimately, that's how movies are made.

One group of people with one idea who never, ever gives up.