So here's something interesting. It turns out I might have a conscience and some morals or something... maybe anyway. As you should all know by now, I finished up the first draft of my screenplay yesterday. I'm thrilled with how it turned out, but I'm a little disturbed as well. There is a lot of fact in this fiction. Some of these conversations are dialogues I've had in real life. Sure, I've twisted them and taken some "creative license" with the situations, but even so there is enough reality underneath it all to give me a fucked up case of deja vu. It's like I've lived these scenes... only not quite. My life has suddenly taken on a "Twlight Zone" kind of aspect. I usually get fairly invested in the characters I write. In my head they become real people. In this case that's even more true than normal. There are characters here that are based in some respect on people I know in real life. The fact that I kill two of them off in particularly gruesome fashion was hard to do. I was surprised by that. A lot of what I write is dark and violent. It always has been. That kind of writing is theraputic for me. I can write a murder scene with the best of them. I've joked about these death scenes with the two people that these characters are sort of based on, but when it came down to it, they were hard scenes to write. Based on their actions in the script, their end was inevitable, but I still feel a little guilty, ya know? I wish no ill will on these people in real life. I care about them both very much. So no hard feelings guys. It's nothing personal. I promise :)
"I believe that the moment is near when by a procedure of active paranoiac thought, it will be possible to systematize confusion and contribute to the total discrediting of the world of reality." -- Salvador Dalí
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