Hm. 4/10/2021

I'm in a weird funk.

It's hard to describe, but it's not good. I'm not depressed or manic. Have you ever experienced silence in a way that made you feel uncomfortable? That's how it is. Everything is so darn quiet; it's unnerving. In further explanation: Nothing is getting done. No productivity. I find it curious that I'll have episodes of increased productivity mixed in with depression and then have nothing. I still think about the stories I'm attempting to write, but my fingers don't move to the keyboard and do what they should be doing.

Annie Craven, the eleven-year-old living in a manless society, finds one hiding in her shed: I'm still in chapter two. Isn't that just awful? In January, my goal was to have the first draft by now. Did I ever say failure was my middle name? I'm saying it now and out loud: Jason Failure Smolowitz. What day is it? Oh, early Saturday morning. At 1:14am. Should I try to attempt a new goal again? Will I even accomplish it? How does this sound: 500 words daily, 7 days a week. Honestly, that is incredibly easy. That's an hour of work! That's 3,500 words a week, which ends up being a chapter. I can have a complete novella draft by the end of May. I can do that. If I can't write 500 words daily, I'm pathetic. A worthless, lazy, good-for-nothing, non-achieving loser. I can do it.

I can.

The Reds on Scum Ave is shaping up in my head anyway. I wrote out an outline. I may change the title as it's becoming something different. I'm trying to see where the story is shifting towards. His obsession with his white mother is becoming interesting. I'll leave it ambiguous if he's in love with his own mother or not. I want to point in the direction that he wants to fuck her but not commit fully to it. He wants to fuck his mom and kill his dad. Hmm. Oedipus Complex. I want to do a small short and just write it as a super low-budget feature. I need to make a feature fuck face.

By the way, you've noticed that I'm slutting over filmmaking again. It's not like that, really. I just can't help but think about the films I want to make. But as I said, I'm pushing my focus back to Annie. Little fucking Annie Craven.

Work has been horrible lately. Bad attitudes are a no-go for me.