smothered hope

This damned portfolio is never going to be done. I really don't want to fail this course; I couldn't go through another year of this. The problem is that I hate the play I'm writing. I hate the characters. I can't find their voices and I don't like any of the options they've got. Which, yes, yes, yes, is irrelevant. Oh, fuck that. If I hate it, I won't be able to write it.

It's the eleventh hour, and all I can think of is how little I care what these two stupid people do with their predicament. My roommates are watching "There Will Be Blood" in the adjacent room, and the sound coming from the television is jarring. I'm trying to involve myself in the task at hand, but there's nothing in my mind for these characters to say. I keep hearing confidently delivered dialogue coming from the next room and thinking, "I guess I'll never write a film." Which is defeatist, and beside the point, but it's just a bit of perspective on how frustrating my task is.

It's too late to change my idea. The portfolio was due last week. I have a high chance of getting a failing grade at this point, anyway. But goddamn, do I ever NOT want to repeat this class.

Two people, arguing in a room. There is no escaping the fate of one of them. Why would they bother arguing? More importantly, why did I stick myself with such rubbish?

Gah. Sorry. Just wanted to get that off my mind. Back to work.

back | forth

listening:
reading:
ingesting:
(see entries before 20.11.05)

previously on Smothered Hope:

unreal - 20.05.08
in which our narrator kinda just babbles on a bit - 15.05.08
drank several margaritas last night. they were great. - 04.05.08
spacey - 29.04.08
i will most definitely regret posting this in public - 28.04.08