Sometimes I am frightened...but I am ready to learn the power of love...

I know Céline means something to the comedic community. It’s like “Gloria” by Laura Branigan. You know when something is so serious that it can make you laugh? “The Power of Love” is a great great song, it’s not that, “we’re heading for something” is truly satisfying. It is also funny, but that’s why you laugh at this Brazilian mother…this is her relationship to love. She is Nina from The Forbidden Dance… and this song—you felt its arrival in this house.

Maybe I’ll build in a narrator, voice over, even of me as an adult, something like that. But what she says about the lambada…feels central. I remember she said it being sad was - was not - the point. It’s love, Maria…and she seemed to want to tell me… about it… never give up on it… it’s a cultural thing. Celebrating.

I’m not Brazilian, and I don’t know if that’s Jewish, too, but it’s definitely Brazilian. A lot of music, depending, from South America — is about heartbreak, no? Dancing to this woman was practically medicine…you can bring a range of emotion to the dance floor…what are you supposed to do? It’s true. Deny it? Hide from it? I think that speaks for itself.

Just their cultural makeup is so funny. A super strong, very talented group of movers. Simply inspirational. I loved how they used to naturally go into the crowd and pull people in. They taught people the steps, and this is why people went over…so it’s the sexiest dance on Earth, but it was family, so it was innocent…there were moments…but none of that was bad…sex was not bad…and in looking at my parents…you really had to grain away. We weren’t in The Forbidden Dance, not the same story, but I have to communicate that part. Sex as an innocent act or that there’s healing in that area in some capacity.

Sex brings children into the world…it’s what life is about…according to her… hilarious and natural and wonderful… this woman lol, cracking up, getting sexier because she’s married. She has no reason to hold back. Party time. I thought that was a moving combination. And if you think about Parenthood, there’s something inappropriate about family, also, that seems to hold true in the comic dimension. Also dramatic. But what’s inappropriate for children…? In this case…um…some woman dancing freely is…the least of my concerns.

Sex was, an actual topic with me, so imagine a Brazilian mother with a girl like that…she isn’t from Bakersfield. Nothing wrong with that, it’s just not where she’s from. I asked her so many questions. About Brazil. Does everyone have legs like you? She painted it so honestly — you’ve seen NOTHING, nothing. We watched some carnival — FLOSS, Maria, women are wearing FLOSS. It’s so much fun. I just loved it.

And then…they all went to Hebrew school. So I was there for Shabbat. I hated the Catholics, I was vocal about the subject, totally confused, upset.

It’s like anything else, you keep skimming away to get to what it’s really about…the cultural meeting was inspiring…and she’s dancing around, sometimes, you know, to her Jesus and Mary candles lit, she’s just there…being her…and she’s such a talented mover, and this isn’t my mother, so there’s nothing uncomfortable about it. Her kids, hilariously, depending, snapped at her to simmer down. Nicole sort of airy…nodding at her…later on. Needing to bark at her sometimes because she’s dancing…or simply wait. They would appear…individually.

Mary and Jesus are Jewish! I would cry.

The Catholics infuriated me!

I was studying all this…maybe just observing at that age…that’s what I mean…maybe when my perspective comes into focus…I’ll figure out some text for a voice over, I’ll have to feel that out. I suppose that’s closer to the right track. It’s a love song. Or, some collection that makes up a whole. I guess some artists make an album that has fewer variations, but you have your ballads, you have deeper beats, you go on a journey.

At least with this mother, this Brazilian mother, I guess it all exists. She spoke to me as if I were there, there was a tough side to that. I would bark at people as if they weren’t there, they couldn’t see me, which she would say — I SEE YOU. I SEE YOU. But, like all her kids said, “what is she doing here?”

I have to make sure it’s clearly stated that the subject of sex…in this context…the sexiest dance…for someone communicating that to someone so young…who she thinks…and look, I might put this in, but remember in Sybil when she finds out that her mother…? Yikes. Imagine this woman? All caught up in some fucked up shit. Brazilian. Not Bakersfield.

It’s like, people said, this sounds like a soap opera, which “I get,” but it’s a truly dramatic situation with dramatic characters — even those three professional athletes, they are in a particular head space — so a soap opera to me implies that people murder casually, speak about truly real subjects in a slightly unreal way. This is a temporary insanity plea. There’s a difference. In real life, which I suppose I might have appeared that disconnected, talking about — yeah, and then, this happened, gotta go, we’ll talk about it at Starbucks later. Since my family life continued to be very dramatic…

I suppose it’s more spectacle, at times, I don’t know how her playing this game will come across… basically stay away. That was the basic communication strategy. And satisfaction or psychology is a real subject, in fact, meaning, we are — it’s an industry — attracted to drama…we have our dramas, romances, I mean, the lambada is a passionate dance. But that was a real drama right there though my mother Heavenly Creatures — ah, yes, that really happened, those types of characters exist. Thank you Peter Jackson, thank you. And what would you expect? Normalcy? Not really. Except, my father, was strangely “normal,” like a different animal. Except, nothing about the way he reacted was normal. Took me some time to just work that out, since this situation got out of control — for real. You don’t stand at some woman’s door…like, I guess the camera can take this perspective, so you can watch the ridiculously over the top SHOW — that was the point — go NUTS. And you can…watch a couple of girls going nuts…if that’s not a cognitive disorder, at least, I do not know what is. You child, yours, is at some woman’s house, who cares “if I hated you?” The whole thing was extremely suspicious.

There’s a subtextual communication that we have.

If you have some complex about being “the bad guy” — what the hell is that?

Forget my mother. She was too blinding…as an idea…

I am in this situation at four. Didn’t seem like that dawned on him. Ever.

So, without any change in behavior on my father’s end — this woman does a 180…because she’s spinning in a totally ungrounded, insane, lady. We make up all sorts of stories. It’s funny, to me, which now I am not hidden, since I was, when people talk to me about what they know about celebrities — I’m only doing that to study you. How the hell do you know that? An inside source? Now, I would crack up in your face. Sure, people “close” to you cannot lie about you. Of course. Always fascinated by what people believe in, when they in fact lie… to their closest… trust me, I’ve seen it before. My mother was one of these examples that taught me a lot actually. I suppose I unlearned some of that, but I think I mostly moved out of “I don’t know” space, meaning, I might not be projecting my past onto you, but I know where I came from. Simply.

She thinks she knows what’s going on…but that gets totally messed up. And somehow, we’re still dancing through it, or life goes on, I’m more and more a part of these people. What are you supposed to do?

So I took off today so I could work on this bible all day… I hope it won’t take that long. But at least…I can think out loud, and think about the elements that are missing…since, I don’t know, if the average person is going to know what the lambada is…and make the parallels between — some girl who’s apparently being abused… throwing her racket across a court… because an instructor sings her…a love song. She flips out, publicly. That’s what I mean. It was a real situation. Love songs. Just giving this man a piece of my mind— with a coconut pop. lol. This was our favorite. All of us eating coconut pops lol. Not everyone liked that one, but it should be that way.

Not Italian. These were my young years. I figure that probably the father can recognize her Italian ness, probably. Something. Or maybe they don’t. I don’t know. But Italians don’t eat with their elbows off the table. And my cousins were infuriated that I was told to do such a thing! Of course you revolted, this is Neapolitan. Any Neapolitan, doesn’t matter how old they are, if you tell them to eat with their elbows off the table — this is the reaction. You think in a house…that there’s one way…and it goes generally speaking across the board…it just doesn’t matter. My cousins also looked at me like I was strange…because I didn’t eat like them…because I am not Italian. Not from this country. So they go, oh, why did they, and typically, people don’t stop to think about these sorts of parallels. People are somewhat compartmentalized. Context. I found it all very fascinating. Annoying, it’s to be expected, at least, my cousins understand that to be…something everyone feels sometimes.

Maybe Franco tried to annoy me… since it was like, you can’t. Why people cared that much about my way of being, I really really don’t know. Now, I’m a bit with a couple of peace signs — I’m chill. You stay over there. Not interested. I get you are “superior,” I get you “know things,” I get you have “feelings,” okay? Keep them. They are in fact yours. Now that I got that one cleared up. I can continue. You are a “well of depth,” that too. I get it, I get the picture. I ain’t signing up. Excuse me if I might be sharp, but that actually makes more sense. What the fuck, this is Naples, do you know? My cousins supported me well. “Fuck off,” Angela said. “Learn it.” With her pout. Brava Meri. You see? I got here. Up the cliffs… lunchtime.

Anyway, we have our moments, moods, sides, but really being seen…or my story becoming real…was a tumultuous experience. You see, it’s one thing for some girl with a fairytale attitude, with shades, telling you some nonsensical story, but it’s another to imagine yourself in the position of — your family. Now, what would you do? Call foster care? That’s why I think it’s the right way to go. Because everyone has a family, this is what I learned, more or less, and there’s a bit of a difference, or people who cognitively function, no? So don’t try to relate to me, in a sense, just because sometimes, I don’t always agree with that approach. Sometimes, it’s good to feel lines of difference. You came from a totally different upbringing, and I’m not trying to relate to everyone… in fact. An exchange is something else. I’m not sitting here putting my story on some hierarchal scale, a most unnerving, annoying things that people can do…it’s just what happened. I cannot relate to them, does that make sense? I don’t know what it means to be Jewish because I spent some years there. I’m not going around…speaking about all this…in any way shape or form. So what? So you spent a few years somewhere… I spent like a decade in France, but I don’t know who these people are… I don’t know what their problems are… it’s a large country!

In any case, language is fun.

But a family drama. That I can do. That’s relatable. The average person, let’s say, more or less, can relate or put themselves in their position more easily than mine, but you’ll get it, too, and they, some of them, should for the story. And for those who can relate in some way, you know, I hear more often than not — family isn’t the easiest subject, also interesting to me…at that age… but these are not that people, you see. These are a group of people who are truly devoted to one another. But I get the sense that people can feel like outsiders in their own home…so that turns out to be relatable too…I had a hard time with people in my generation at times. Or these kids. But then, I acted out myself, but wouldn’t you? Would you want to go home? Would you listen to your father? Why? Someone who cannot basically function, in a weird way.

I don’t know what to say there… eventually, I’ll talk to some experts or something for my own piece of mind…I was there, however, because she believed that my father was a child molester, and my mother’s brief appearance was disturbing enough. Like, she cannot send me home, though she did, in reality, a couple of times, but if you understand how psychological often works, or can, that was a deeply confusing situation where she’s getting paid…she doesn’t actually understand it. Totally bonkers. Seriously, she’s be the first with her legs — to bust in on this weird ass Christmas party…what the fuck is this? Why are my parents nowhere to be found? Yuck. Some woman dying upstairs. You know when you can’t believe it? She didn’t know, but come on, this was one of those… when there’s nothing but abnormal disturbing behavior, what do you do? That’s quite tangled up. Dysfunction can operate. Literally work. Yeah, imagine? Okay, so Dr. J calls…weirdly… there’s a Christmas party? We’re trying to make this work. What the fuck does that mean, lady?

So..she drops me off…probably thinking…this is some party… or — not my kid. She’s so weird at this point… I was seven. But this unreal/real line — seems to be rather true for this figure. I am sure there are all sorts of scenarios… but I was trying to assess with a sexually very wounded person, evidently. There’s just a variety of directions I can go…”she gave you away to save you from herself” was an interesting interpretation. Save me from “him?” You know? From herself…? I mean, put yourself in the position of this family for real and think about that. You just don’t believe that something like that is possible. On the person level, I guess, even if statistics tell you that all sorts of weird shit happens in families.

Anyway, lucky me, I took off and I’m off to implement some of this storyline into the story… love songs…I mean, what the fuck did this mean to me? But I understood it, no? That’s what I have to get to…with this group of people who start doing that for me — just the image of JOSE flying like the wind across a parking lot. Nicole — watching him “Gemini.” She just sees stars in people, literally speaking, and I don’t know why I always think about Julianna Moore…being able to play her… but I can. Someone who has an expansive focus. An astrology prodigy, I mean, at seven, wow, I thought she was impressive. That’s how she saw the world. She was aware, at that time, that solar system existed within a person.

I think I’ll make the blond with Penelope Cruz…Kate Winslet in Heavenly Creatures. Just to keep it clean and simple. Shelley Long is hilarious, so is Nina, so maybe I’ll put that later on… they are also this. And you might laugh? For that reason. The character page about Dr. J I think is pretty riveting…it feels real to me…when you read that bio…so maybe I’ll keep that…I might find a photo of a tennis player in a fit of emotion next to Nina. Maybe I’ll make some triplet of psychological moments. I mention Heavy because it’s unreal/real. He’s lying about his mother…we don’t get that until the end. I need a terribly epic fight. I guess A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints has that dimension. I’ll be off figuring that out.

Playing with Bible covers...

Get ready to laugh a little, anytime I see Nina from The Forbidden Dance, I start laughing… but that’s what it was. She’s the real thing, baby. She’ll tell you. I don’t know what to…do there. Maybe later on…so you don’t expect lol, and you know a little more about the story. It’s funny, isn’t it? I thought, I’m not sure if I can totally make it look like a CD, and I can photoshop some of this text out, but it has a rainbow effect. I did a few mock-ups of this one. There’s something about the disc that I like…I’m just experimenting with the crystal chandelier effect…can’t find the right photo and it’s not the priority right now. If I can photoshop something simple…

I don’t know about the trippy text effect though in the first image maybe that works…There’s something emotional to me about Sarah from A Little Princess in the second photo with her arms raised…everyone knows that movie. Like, ooooh, it’s going to be one…of those…some tragedy is going strike some girl and she’s going to make it through…a love song? What?

“Because you loved me…” now I’m hearing that one.

It’s about a house, there’s music in it… this is going to be a love song, check. A classic. That’s what this is. Maybe Sarah might be the next image, but to me, that’s the right sentiment. In terms of presenting a character off the bat. There’s a kid involved. Rather than Penelope Cruz…lol, Nina, I keep doing it for fun. Not yet. But…it IS that…but for real, because she’s truly Brazilian dancing sexy in her room 24/7. At the right moment. Hopefully, the person will laugh out loud. That’s what it is.

I can photoshop later.

Anyway, I’m going to bed. I made it pretty much the whole way through the bible except tone but I’m getting there — the advantage is…MARIA sometimes becomes the perspective like Immensità but it’s much simpler…it’s an ensemble piece, for sure, that revolves around these two characters though as the family drama really flares up…that becomes something else as the family is going to have to do what they do best — get through this together. Her husband has to grab hold of the reigns since his wife is off. What the hell are they going to do?

Again, I think one of the advantages of this is…MARIA can take the perspective sort of like the daughter in Immensita…but probably all she has to do is stand there. And you see what she’s seeing… I mean, their family videos? To Through the Years? You’ll get the parallels she’s seeing…playing “make-believe” with Nicole..who really believes in OZ…looking over at an adult…wondering what that line is...staring at their heated fights, her, the door opening to her mother, Dr. J, coming in to deliver a performance… of make-believing she is not there…

I can do a VoiceOver in the beginning and end like Ford vs Ferrari, we’ll see, I can feel the potential for a voiceover, but I think it speaks for itself…maybe what this mother says about the lambada can come back…her angel voice… lyrics… maybe something can come in at the end…as if…she wrote it…you know? Her mother’s name is Joy… I had that thought in the end…since what she says about the lambada comes back at the end right now…I couldn’t even believe it. Joyce. And they are rejoicing, literally. That was the theme. And this is her family now…

Feel great, gotta go to bed. I think I have at least a week. If there was some code red time frame, he would tell me. It’s just, a couple of weeks outside of a month is one thing…but if it’s like, oh, I had two months? I mean, even better, truly speaking! Just work in my favor. I’m just going to be done over the weekend because I can’t gauge. That’s my goal. I know that’s right. He said “At least two weeks,” so that’s this week. I’ll done this weekend then.

I feel like I’m starting to see the final product…

I’m supposed to connect with a feeling of knowing…approaching the task as if it’s already done…so what if I did it, just like that, and I just want to cry. And this CD cover is good, I think. I can do the back…so it feels cohesive even classic.

My artistic goal...

This is basically it — the fiction about my father coming out of these crazy 4 years. I’m not sure about the title, but that’s the sentiment. Get a narrator à la Royal Tenenbaums… and get ready “to fly…” chuckling. Anyway, this one is so clear to me, even if I don’t know what it’s about exactly…I don’t know the actual steps of the story, but it’s a conversion story, more or less. Where someone later on in life, let’s say, gets another shot. Just the doctor telling Nick to rise to occasion and then, he takes me to the driving range. “We’re going to be the best of friends…” I could, even, become a great golfer, shaking Tiger Wood’s hand, anything in possible in a film like that. Fantasy sequences. I woke up laughing this morning.

I had the best dream. I was living in a nice apartment practically in the SOHO House, cracking up, like I had back door…access. With Kim Rosen. I had a dog. I had lawyers. This was fantastic. I woke up so enthused. I just wanted to save this universal theme for Nicholas J Mocerino. Man, I could probably put this together pretty fast, actually. We’ll see. This is the one I’m most excited about. Just me yelling at him at 4 — “You cannot kill Galileo! Galileo!” It was clear to me. Flipping out. Him trying to explain “the tiniest minutia…” I’m going to spend some time with my bible, speed through Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile. Then, I’ll see if I can throw something together for this. It’s pretty straight forward, though again, maybe it all takes place with the two of us traveling, I don’t know this part, because I also saw these two character moving to Hollywood, starting over, and she wants to be an actress, and he ends up getting noticed. Then seeing Nick at the end of this…some kind of healing. He’s not the same man.

I woke up thinking about Dr. J, like it’s totally fine to be eccentric, strange, even, I don’t know. Wear outrageously chic clothing, I don’t know, like that pianist does — sequins, the whole thing. Be an anomaly. I didn’t see any issue with it. But it drove me NUTS, so maybe Nick can go NUTS, that she couldn’t just get herself some basic help. I suppose the same goes for my real father, because not telling anyone he has an illness was insane — I mean, I suppose he couldn’t but Jesus Christ.

But in any case, even if Nick is strange, he finds some kind of asymmetrical freedom in cool sunglasses as an actor… cracking up at him…because he figures it out. He in a sense becomes a good guy. He’s the one who comes to discover that life might be a little different than he thought, and I guess he thought it. I’m not sure if the Parkinson’s or Alzheimer’s is even necessary… but I’m not juggling this guy’s through line yet, I just like this one.

Anyway, it’s just universal themed, you see? We’re in space, my father telling me this, “we’re IN space…” he never understood that. “Wow is right,” he meant it. Sort of sounding like Tiger “it’s greeeeat!” What cereal is that? He could sound like that.

I feel better about Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile…I’m going to speed through the bible this morning before work. But this is the cover for the movie about my father…the lawyer in my dream told me…he liked this one. This was his choice.

Bible thoughts

My manifestation workshop instructed us to take some action steps this evening on our goals — at 8 PM, I thought, well, what’s going to help me in some capacity? Well, finishing the bible for one. These meditations are so reassuring and grounding. I needed that today. It’s all about how you take action. So come to the exercise as if it’s already done.

I just sat with what I did. I’m crossing my fingers that I’ll be able to have a meeting with this producer before this bible is due, but I’m not entirely sure if I can bank on that. It’s fine. It’s done. I did it. Already. I’m coming to the Bible as if it’s already done. And it sells, it gets to the next step. I’m taking it step by step here.

I feel like I need to clarify or focus on a style, or just clarify the language. This is the crossroads were real life and fiction meet? Real life and theater? Love songs — it’s the Power of Love by Celine Dion. This is family. It’s high-drama/comedy — thrilling. I have to use stronger language. I’ve turned back to the Stranger Things bible…heartbreaking and heart gripping… it’s a real theater. You know, maybe I will watch Dog Day Afternoon again, an ensemble around her. The electricity of Pacino. The guitar in Power of Love by Celine Dion. The kick-back before the wail… some sports movie where the people rise to their feet when (Jose) makes the win. I got to get to the emotional charge of it, since it’s strong. The little girl who starts screaming in The Little Princess. I should get that image. The show of life, don’t quite know how to word that yet, but something along those lines that gets blurry…and spins into the startlingly real. I wish I had a movie reference for that…

When things get real. The sprinklers turn on.

When do…people jump, oh, you scared me…did I? In some film, come on, and it’s a bit tongue-in-cheek. Jack Nicholson? I didn’t mean to scare you. Some horror movie, come on. But at least if I spend some time tuning the images, the language, I can put…the crowd rising to its feet — holding their breath — watching the ball fly… and they make it! To get socked in the face. I need some tornado of a character…ripping through your home. Glinda but the villain.

On this end of things, I’m getting there. Thrilling is a better word. Charmed. Somehow. Athletic. It’s just, this Brazilian mother is truly hilarious. In a fantastic way. She’s just as theatrical…though Dr. J is — a fireworks. A comedian/thespian. The Mad Hatter in Alice in Wonderland, but an executive. Alright, I’m skating off now… thrilling and touching…

I’m going to clarify story, and maybe do a speed-through tomorrow morning before work — where I go through the sections — and put a timer on. Go. Go. Go. And get to the end. No thinking. I’ll get my work out of the way…and come back afterward and read what I got. I can probably speed through in an hour. I’ll do that exercise tomorrow.

As part of my manifestation workshop though, I had to take three action steps. I’m doing this. I watched Heavy…and look, a car pulls up…the movie begins. We don’t start with an inciting incident…it’s just another day…what I appreciated about it…I thought, oh, here’s another picture with a psychological element to it, but he’s not saying it’s a psychological drama. It’s listed as a romance/thriller, but it’s a drama…

Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile is not slow, the whole story progressed quickly, it’s a dynamic portrait…just these kids training to be professional athletes, and then, there’s me. It’s drama-comedy. But it’s about performance. Isn’t it? Sports. Those kids. Nicole is Dorothy. I mean, where the sincere slams into the operatic. “PROTECT MY BABY,” to then, put on some spectacle for the child molester. I’m going to watch a few more movies. I’ll watch Sorrentino. Dog Day Afternoon. Heavenly Creatures, I think, is still a good reference for the heightened performance styles that work in a realistic context and fantasy, all that, since, that’s just what it was…there’s a blend of styles. But not fantasy so much. Performance. I mean, on that one, I thought, in real life, maybe this figure…since this figure seemed to be ever-present in her world…was it a joke? I don’t understand. Just because no one did anything. Not in the real. And then, I get dropped off? Seriously? At home a couple of times…? When. she thinks, again, that he’s a child molester? And that this woman is weird on that level too? Seriously? At some weird ass Christmas party. Freaky. Don’t see my parents ONCE. Did she even ask me a question? Now I understand I needed real help, actually.

There must be some moment in The Hand that Rocks the Cradle, no? Where she pops up, scares her, didn’t mean to. Psychological thriller. I’ll watch some. It’s just the typical evil thing, or the dark side, it’s just not that. It’s a Disney princess, practically. But her performance of ignoring me…should render you speechless. So yeah, that might be a blend of styles…it’s the level of performance…that’s stunning. These two little girls standing in the living room…to take on this lady? This girl gets it? I suppose it wasn’t a big deal, but I mean, I guess she was that shocked. I just would slice someone’s throat, but then, she was getting paid a lot of money. Now that I’m clear on that one. Plus, Jesus Christ, she got 30,000 dollars from her sister in the early nineties, meaning, 15,000 dollars. Damn. I ain’t giving Dr. J 30,000 dollars. To go to “the university for children,” mouth drops. She was that blatant.

With the large family feel of… Parenthood?

I’m going to bed. But one step closer. Family videos. They were such a close family. It was bizarre. But then, I guess you don’t expect something like that, it just got…oh, sure, I’ll keep her safe, and sure, this jerk calling and “visiting,” and then, there are steps to show how people get wrapped up in the dramas that they do.

She’s so funny, this Brazilian mother…so that’s why I leaned on Immensità since there are almost two leads, though it’s really about Penelope Cruz, but the daughter watches her… so I thought that might work structurally. Even if it’s ensemble. I say that more because it more or less takes place in one house…in how choreographed real life can feel sometimes…especially with a large group like that. Maybe I’ll watch The Tree of Life? Wasn’t there a quality to that? Anyway, I’ll watch a few more things.

Night night.

The movie bible for Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile

I need a little support right now because I’m turning my attention back to the movie bible…it seems like we have at least another week, but still. I did my manifestation workshop, which has been such a great support tool. She has a solid relationship with time. That felt good. I’ll work on that. I’ve been sitting with Mangold’s body of work. I’m going to watch Heavy tonight since that’s 1995. And that’s not how I feel…heavy…I am just hungry.

He’s worked with a variety of genres…and I really enjoyed Ford vs Ferrari. I think Immensità is a good reference, also. This had life to me, I thought, the image below. Forget the background, I was experimenting with the rainbows from the crystal chandelier, but the energy is high. This mother dances all the time. It’s totally amazing, hilarious, on a WHOLE other level more like Nina from The Forbidden Dance. Hilarious, which is she. but I’m not going to make that reference.

THAT energy coupled with what is actually happening…gives this story a strong emotional thrust that MATCHES the GAME that everyone is playing. BOOM. “Power of Love,” wail Celine. You might laugh out loud…but it’s on that level. Touching, yes, also.

There are intimate moments, mostly in her bedroom, but it’s a dynamic universe.

For me, structurally, it’s about the way real life mirrors this fictional through line….this weird theater that goes super wrong and real. But they adopt her, in the end. It already has a pronounced style, so I don’t feel the need to add another layer. But then Heavenly Creatures was just like that no? Larger than life.

But I think this story is best served in a dramatic realistic context. I think I came to that conclusion. Though Dr. J doesn’t exist there…she’s really “out of this world,” one of her lines, though she’s a big partier.

I’m doing my best to keep clarifying what my vision is. I wish I had someone to talk with about the visuals.

I had a dream last night that I probably want to lean into drama more so than anything else, even if there’s comedic undertones.

So on that page, that white and black title text superimposed, a bit trippy — a mirroring — feels crisp and clear. Dark and light. Since that’s what it was and it was a stark contrast.

And then, the downbeat, dancing…as a healing agent too, no? The whole spectrum. Colors of the rainbow. They were all there.

Dr. J — my mother — is Heavenly Creatures. Her character description page I believe is pretty riveting with cartoon references + Rainman + Shelley Long in Troop Beverly Hills.

I have to watch The Hand that Rocks the Cradle — it’s just, that’s not totally right. But Heavenly Creatures I think is. That’s what she acts like for real. But she’s a genius or gifted person of some kind. High powered lawyer though I don’t know…what that means. Executive. Not house wife.

It’s a period piece: 1989-1995…they’re a sports family…so it’s nostalgic in that way. adidas sandals, you remember. But cut off jeans and a red swim top: Angelita because there are so many goddamn kids around so you’ve never seen a more kid friendly house with slip n slide parties constantly - she’s baking rum cakes for the city of Los Angeles, for real. They’re famous.

Maria is studying real life…like when Nicole, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz at 7, is twirling in the backyard, there’s no place like home, she BELIEVES this, you see. She’s closing her eyes believing in that imaginary world…that’s…Dr.J? This was what I was doing at the time…studying belief. What’s that line?

What we believe IN is interesting to me.

It was just that, at times, you might laugh at Jose, so I might need to insert Ben Stiller, or something, because Jose as the only male…at these dance parties is really funny, especially because he becomes Maria’s true guardian since she’s super super wild…that’s what I mean…it’s SO dynamic. Jose versus Maria and I don’t get scared, it’s a match, a true match across the house…me running and screaming with Jose making as much noise as possible, truly…high drama.

He’s over the banister as women scream his name Jose!

So is that more like Parenthood? Just kids gone wild.

We’re on the pitch of a POWER BALLAD though— that’s this Brazilian mother. The lambada. With a slow…in this middle of all this? Just that, you might laugh…I guess it’s a comedy too, I just don’t know exactly if I lead with that? Since it’s more of a heart gripping story that’s really going to take you on a ride… you’ll laugh and cry probably… especially as they try to keep her.

Ford vs Ferrari had such an excellent sound design, it helped me think about how to approach the music from that perspective.

In my movie bible — I thought about this image I took on a moving train…just to capture the DRIVE since it has quite a THRUST. It’s pretty dynamic.

I thought slant, movement, maybe shafts of light or window blinds so there’s a play between light and dark, inside and outside. I think the images from Immensità will take care of the dancing, the mother losing her mind, because she loses her mind. I have some touches of Heavenly Creatures and De Niro for the “put on a show for the child molester…” sections.

HAHAHAHA, how funny, how satisfying, I can feel it already, she’s on the phone with a child molester — HILARIOUS. You want to talk to MARIA? SURE! It was a performance. Then, he starts knocking on her door “to visit,” can you imagine?! Just her accent. Her prepping us…go nuts. He couldn’t come through the door. So this was it…in a sense… add a little Ursula from the Little Mermaid in terms of her…DELIGHT, hm hm.

Ford vs Ferrari has those satisfying race car sequences…which these family dance parties are going to be…not the same thing but that movie ended up helping me structurally. Oh, I can do that. And they build in their own way…they are such a talented group of people…just watching them yell at José to Building a Mystery. That’s an unexpected song to zoom in — Jose leading the way — GO DEEPER. Angelita hitting him with a rolled up piece of paper in jeans and kitten heels…and her hotness makes her really funny. I mean, what can I do about that? It’s a drama comedy? I mean, it’s a drama, but life is funny?

Even with the VoiceOver at the beginning and end. Same thing. Full circle. Ford vs Ferrari. I can do something simple with my voiceover…or hers…

I’ll make diagonal text. More on a diagonal. Just for the dynamism. Maybe one page with those rainbows or that effect. I’ve made a section for the house since it has a particular look and the love songs…

It helped me to just think out loud for a second because visually, I did this, okay? This is my mother’s page, this is just what it was. Can’t help that. But I did this blue sky, rainbow, with the black and white text. I just don’t know about that look? It looks innocent but it’s not??? Does that work ?

I might take out The Hand that Rocks the Cradle.

After this page is just Kate Winslet Heavenly Creatures.

I’m putting this out there. But I woke up today thinking… stylish? That’s a word I’m meditating on now.

So, check, I thought, this black and white, light and dark play with touches of color.

But it’s really about the composition of it, isn’t it? Like the high drama, contrasts, HEARTBREAK, since that’s what the song is about…also about transformation…but that’s life, what else can I say? For me, personally, music really held the power there… and in that culture at least…the full range of emotion has a public platform.

I mean, the thing is, they really are quite an amazing family, if anybody is going to get through that, they are.

It’s just this mother and MARIA—it’s a whole thing, which is why I thought oh Immensità even if she’s more focused on the family itself. I don’t know.

Maria is studying rainbows…a funny child…on the wall. Stop LOOKING at rainbows! And she teaches her how to dance…there’s a good emotional charge behind it. No?

I’m getting myself a nice meal. Feeling good about me today. I keep seeing that — sell this idea. I can do that.

There’s something about this sentiment… I’m just sharing some of my images…

This is the opener… no red, I think. But the black and white I think feels right. It’s gotta be crisp.

I just published an excerpt from the Oldest Storyteller

The arc of that is subject to change since I haven’t written the book yet, but there you go. I published it on Medium. I suppose I’ll share it on my social channel. I still don’t totally get the text size, but people always tell me it’s too small, so mine might be too big. Anyway, I’m proud of this one, I have more excerpts, so that’s my plan — diffuse. I should have an operation going pretty soon, just trying to figure out the mechanics of this. I don’t understand social media in the slightest. Do I have two accounts, since I have them? Who cares? I’m not sure what to do. Write a newsletter…and say…here it is…create its own section in Substack so I can introduce this…talk about my ideas…where they come from? That’s basically where I’m at. Just trying to get better at putting myself out there…on the channels that exist…hopefully, it will be a very good year for me, one of those that I’ll look back on…um, remember? When everything changed? So ready. Please… but at least, I have material I can start to show…it’s…how this Maria figures it out…who he is, really, and what’s possible. Because what hasn’t he seen? It’s just not quite the moment, I think, to go inward, since it’s all in the moment, and she felt time bend, you know, what can I say? I did. I hope it’s good. I hope so. I have the next scene already…so I’ll be publishing all that now…

Probable futures. You know? I never thought about this experience I had around time twice…and the thing is, the Oldest Storyteller will look smashing, really, as I, at nine, tell him mystery is real, Death. I didn’t need to know…what was going on…I got a message. Just understanding that I had a neurological event, the lifting like a spell, it’s just, I wasn’t in any pain. I did have sensation, but I haven’t totally cracked open this moment yet in the story, and I, still — understandable, no? — grain away like…I saw balls of fire, I did, through the fabric of what is, and I received this as “probable futures.” That’s what it was, it was clear to me. And yes, I could see that some futures were more probable than others…truly speaking, graining away from “Tai” in Clueless, like, are people going to ask me about…time? Now, I’m okay. But realizing I went through this really…threw me. I did, in fact, experience that, characters from my life…coming into the room, so to speak, beginning to feel sensations I didn’t understand. Violent, in the beginning, but I talked myself through it, okay, look, there was a beginning, end, spell, I remember those words, it felt like a spell had lifted…and why…was that word suddenly…appropriate? That was the word. A spell.

The winds…was another section of it…a sensation like winds.

The Big Yellow Taxi was the first time though I didn’t realize that these two events were related yet. I had both of them, but I didn’t know they connected, and I FELT older that time than I did the second almost as if I couldn’t place myself…but I doubt that’s that unusual. It was confusing though I didn’t seem to think so at the time…that one took some time to work out…it was so significant as one can imagine…It’s just the first crack into it, as I didn’t even go through the full arch of the event, so, in the end, once I’m done, I might not fully go into it since we’ll return to this moment, the neurologist comment probably comes later…but it’s just to present a complete idea at first glance, and who knows, maybe that will stay, I’m not on this one, yet, as I’m on Christmas in Naples is Sport, but if someone were to tell me to be, I would, obviously. I’m happy to share it in the meantime…

I’ll write a newsletter in a couple of days…I know some people write every day, which is a bit annoying, isn’t it? But then, I have like no readers right now. So, maybe every couple of days, I don’t know, I’ll figure that out. I should probably change my newsletter name to my name…or something…else. I feel happier and happier and more excited for the success to come…all that, as my focus is very direct this year…I mean, we’ll see, but this was an idea that I wanted to get to and luckily, there were some contests that I submitted myself for that propelled me a little forward with the idea…big thanks to Seth, the personality essence, like I care if this personality essence is or is not, it’s great stuff, I was casting him immediately. I just can’t disrespect an idea’s existence, I cannot. Not when it feels real.

I’m finished….

Read this scene from XMAS in Naples...

***like, WHAT part of my story…I include, I don’t know…

Hours, these people could speak for hours, with no complex about “needing to separate,” be in their own “neat space,” this is mine, this is yours— this idea — Franco was concerned — that I— didn’t want this attention. My story brought it to me. Didn’t want it to consume Christmas. Franco didn’t appreciate that attitude. I laughed. WHO, si, Flora, WHO, si si, WHO is encouraging you to NOT SPEAK! Franco COULD SEE someone ELSE through my FIGURE.

“WHO IS THIS PERSON?”

“You’re BECOMING someone else.”

Franco saw it. He will gladly tell you.

I couldn’t stop laughing.

Franco could see when I was becoming someone else. This isn’t you.  

“You’re hanging out with your professor? Maria…” he trailed off. “Not like that…” Franco didn’t understand why. I laughed. He found that to be weird. Sometimes, when I began to talk, I could feel Franco skating off inside of his own head…preparing himself for the train wreck of words coming at him. “He’s like my family…” I used that phrase, sometimes, and they would collectively pause. Okay…and in my case, I gotta admit, you know that phrase “you choose your family?” Franco got hazy with a smile, what is this phrase? Flora turned, frowned. I was laughing.

“You cannot change your family… who THIS IS…”

Franco was mildly proud of me now.

“But you…” I trailed off. “Do you…FEEL the SENTIMENT?”

Yeah, they could.

I looked off, sentimental, “you can choose your family…”

“No,” I demanded that they listen, and they did, Neapolitan, now, I got their attention, If I say please, act polite, I’m opening myself up for attack, so LISTEN UP. Si, no change in temperature, very good, Franco Franzese believed I was acting more like my old self.

“I cannot change my family…so I can choose my family…”

They didn’t get it.

“FRIENDS? But these are friends Maria…”

“Si si, but in AMERICA, the people say this…like your family…isn’t very nice, so your friends become your family.”

“So what happens to your family?”

“This is what I mean about America…”

“Dante, si.”

I laughed.

“You choose your family.”

“You mean your wife, husband?”

“I do not know if the people see their families like you…always…”

“No,” I started writing on my palm, “the journalist writes articles on the holidays with titles such as this: how to survive your family…” durante the holidays…

“What’s hard about spending holidays with your family?”

Nodding, these people came to a different world.

“I suppose family gets on one’s nerves from time to time, but don’t you want to spend time with your family?”

“Not so sure, you see, as a Dante…”

“Si si,” there I was supported 100%.

Not from my eyes, growing wide, “I see this. The American inferno.”

“Si, si,” they said, it was clear to them.

In my case, “I had to get out, no?” Making a swimming arm, landing on the door, which they didn’t see.

“Of course,” I had nothing but sympathy there, so I could choose consciously, otherwise.

“Keep speaking, keep speaking,” Franco demanded.

People placed me in a position of self-doubt! Trying to be open, not really understanding why he insisted, but I didn’t want to refuse them, with a dip. No sense there.

I had a gestural style, “one of quality” according to them, out of nowhere, Flora moving with greens, very seriously telling me it was “abstract art, a po’ fantastical, si, of quality…”

“Si si,” they didn’t get why I was touched, surprised.

They took me in as if I were there, which made them pause, encouraging, naturally, what they picked up on as my gifts and qualities that they appreciated. Which was lovely. And “grazie,” this word, could drive Franco NUTS as if I were an ALIEN species! I was always like this, as a kid. Franco liked kids. “Vivace,” I switched feet, sent the ball in that direction now, just to find FRANCO HONKING BACK. KEEP talking. So I could get a little fanciful on my feet. Mostly to crack up Franco. To stop HIS INSISTENCE THAT I SPEAK!

No, this professor almost encouraged me not to talk about my feelings… blinking. This person ended up confusing me a lot, he didn’t get this looking around, pointing at things, acting like this. FRANCO was, you see, the OPPOSITE, SPEAK! SHE MUST SPEAK! Some button was pushed in him as a doctor! I couldn’t not speak enough to this man. I couldn’t help but laugh. I just loved Naples. It was so athletic: a speaking MATCH. I lived on an edge, as I said, a Hoover dam, pressure holding back, but spilling out. To them, it looked like chaos, which wasn’t an issue, Neapolitans were totally at ease with someone in a state of chaos. FRANCO wanted it to be released.

YOU SEE?

That’s a scene that I like, but it’s not about, I don’t know, all these families, you know? It sort of is, it was just amazing how FRANCO was able to identify this person channeling through me. With Flora’s hilarious “si si.” She could tell too. Then, we had to talk about that. So, you became very close to your professor, basically, you see? I never had a place to go…ah, so, he just was a kinda a famous teacher, or something, that had an impact on people, okay, who cares? But they didn’t get the performance, all the time, nor did they agree with the effect that it had on me. Like that — really. It wasn’t a healthy relationship. Okay. so we solved that one, Franco waddling away, sort of breathless. Complicate. Complicate.

I’m telling you, this person. Is a strict no. All due respect. This is VICO. These people. That was that. Okay? No, no, no, he wasn’t interested in the “in-between.” Over. Don’t get involved. No no no.

Angela laughing. MERI!

Becoming someone else.

Rosa scrunching her nose.

“Smarix,” Emma. So SMARIX.

It was? Becoming someone else.

I couldn’t get over them.

I came from a weird story, I needed support, not to say there’s anything wrong with this person, you know, relationships are what they are, but I wouldn’t do it again, I would have keep boundaries, but that took me some time. We both didn’t really have family, but today, HALF the shit he said would never fly. I wouldn’t want to hang out like that. In terms of my behavior, I had no clue that I was uncomfortable. Does that make sense? That person doesn’t exist anymore. Which is, apparently, the person that he loves though he told EVERYBODY that I drove him crazy, so why? Pinching my fingers as VICO, why? Would I go towards that EVER again? I ain’t playing no role. He drove ME crazy. But sure, there was a relationship there, I’m just not interested in that dynamic. Choice. I’m literally a different person. No offense. I had a whole thing to work out. lol. Angela.

Anyway, I’m going back…

AND AND AND? You see the Neapolitans? AND? I cannot express MY FEELINGS? TO YOU? Fight back. This is my Neapolitan family. Exactly. SO what? People disagree. There’s the good and the annoying, etc. Laughing. But me taking on so much, like don’t. EXPEL. Totally different world. I might be sensitive, right, which is what people have told me. I had to do a lot of separating. And now, I’m okay. No.

It’s just great, no? The Neapolitans saying NO, erupting, Emma saying “si.” Rosa.

I will rise a filmmaker in one month...

So it’s going well. I’m spending some time with Christmas in Naples is a Sport right now, organizing it, which is better, and I’ll continue to work on the draft, but I plugged in a scene into my newsletter. I’m starting from the top. So then, I’ll go into another version and share that debut. I can start ten years later…and go back.

On my website, I’ll probably publish a photo after the Christmas in Naples bucket on my homepage—here’s the newsletter. You see, I don’t know how people use a website. Sure, they can click on that image and find another link, but maybe it’s a better idea to make it SUPER stupid, like, here’s the newsletter if you want to read scenes. Then, in that bucket I can direct you to the newsletter, but here are some longer excerpts since I’m working on a longer one right now, and I would write a newsletter to direct to it…? I’m supposed to publish everywhere, picturing some agent going, “what?” Okay, she’s surfacing. Help! Please! That’s my goal, so I might as well do everything I can.

I like the text over the photos. I’m just playing around, and the book is not exactly that, not unless someone tells me to do that, so I’m trying that out. I have a social account that’s for Naples, so maybe I can start posting those graphics. Figure out a system. It’s such a sitcom in the making too. Truly. Where I go through hell, and no one is that fazed about it, okay, it’s just Dante once again. So I went through hell, a real place, everyone recognizes it, and I made it out, you know, Franco stirring risotto. Dante. It’s just Dante. That’s it. It’s really funny.

My newsletter will go out today, I just have so many scenes, Jesus Christ, and I’ll post that on my Neapolitan channel, and just start. Maybe I’ll post the longer excerpts on Medium, again, I don’t totally understand how to use all these platforms…but I’m working on a longer one right now.

So I gotta get back to all this.

I might try and watch some Neapolitan movies. I could work on the text today for a bible. I have a synopsis already that a filmmaker approved, basically, so maybe I can produce another bible. I say that because I don’t know what to do about Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile right now. I have to meditate on the structure a bit as I’ve watched more films. I have an idea as to how to reorganize it, but it might be better to hold off until I speak to him. The immensità photos ended up being the strongest, just because of the dance, the dramatic build of it, since she sort of loses it.

I’ll work on the beginning of this book a little longer. I’ll work on the longer excerpt. I might cancel Sunday, but I gotta pick up my small bag, just because I have a meeting on Monday, and then, I might just throw text on the page for a Christmas in Naples is a Sport movie bible — take Natale in Casa Cupiello, I gotta watch that, where a cousin returns…with a “Dark past” but bright face, but Christmas in Naples is a SPORT, so she gets wrapped up in it, Carmine’s band, it’s a MUSICAL, an unforgettable Christmas classic. It’s a great Christmas family pic that’s a little Totò. Who doesn’t want to see that? In Italy? Who doesn’t want to see a hilarious female Totò meets Dante? What even does that mean? My cousins legitimately, casually, by the pool, say “yes, you are Dante,” it’s not even a big deal. Truly speaking. I begin to walk with a confidence I have never had…you see, to the Neapolitans, I had the ingredients to become IMMORTAL. DANTE’s NAME is on EVERY PIAZZA!

WHY AM I LAUGHING AT DANTE? Aggressive. ARE YOU LAUGHING AT DANTE?

No…I’m laughing at you calling ME Dante. As in the Florentine poet.

That was indeed their point. My name could be on every piazza, you see, Neapolitans LOVE a rise to immortality story. This is who Dante is. He reached the ultimate goal. This is Christmas in Naples. And if necessarily, sure, Gennaro can be Hades, he can, since that’s who he is to me. A statesman. And the family, particularly Angela with her pout, finds it adorable, amusing, nothing more. She’s just seeing mythological characters within us… Dante. A truly great group of people. Fun fun characters. Their landscaper, his name, is Natale. Hello? Do I need to EXPLAIN anymore?

So it’s a female clown—SO ITALIAN. An American who IS, to this family, Neapolitan, okay? Not American. She might not make SENSE but they can follow her…not blinking an eye at CHAOS, there’s nothing unusual about it, Angela laughing, you know, how funny it is, me being worried about such a thing, about being in such a state, calling me “absurd” at times… so I get embraced by this group of people….so just picture Roberto Benigni in Life is Beautiful — she is sort of that kind of character within her own story that THEY don’t totally get. They get the ATMOSPHERE, the DANTE, even, with the stories of what…she’s seen. “Connecticut.” It stirs the whole family. “What is this Connecticut?”

"Translating Connecticut whispers….”

They did not understand it. They whisper when they TALK? Concerned.

MARIA does not understand! YES! I do not know, they do not express their sentiments! Losing it. But there’s nothing unusual about that, so it’s so freeing, you know? “IT IS BENEATH, IN the ground, the sentiments!” Frank has to honk sometimes, “Maria?” He’s touched, somehow. But why did you give up theater? Haha.

Not to compare my story to WWII Nazis. It’s to understand that this character fits into a tradition, she fits the bill, and she didn’t come from a BRIGHT story, but she’s bright. It’s what makes her touching. But you also will laugh because she doesn’t know how to speak the language. The comedy of total miscomprehension with FRANCO and MARIA being the cop and Totò in Cops and Robbers…I’ll get some serious interrogation room scene, I’m sure I can find it. But FRANCO is the SYSTEM. Laughing.

My cousins saw the quality, the art, truly speaking, in my “abstract hands…” you see, my hands, apparently, were ALWAYS “very imaginative, si si,” so…there’s a physical comedy to this person, like Flora says, it’s abstract art, right? But it has a quality, yes, it’s artistically valid, it holds, and they encouraged me…so it’s fun for all those reasons.

I’ll watch some Christmas movies this weekend. I might, actually. Here’s the image, many, if you need proof that it’s a sport. It’s a sport. Every page. Every TV screen. And MARIA rises to MEET IT — they might not KNOW it — but she does. She’s playing— at their level. They’re just acting normal. It’s a MATCH — morning, noon, and night. You will understand her dance moves, they won’t. But now, they will. Okay? Great family. Strong family values pic.

I’m off.

The Barbara Harris cover, no? The book jacket? Chic.

I’m playing around with a new website, so you can just click on things to read right away with embedded links that direct you to more from that group. I’ll figure this out, but I wanted to make a more eye-grabbing site…so you see “The Russian Thief” “The Ukrainian Refugee” and Barbara Harris etc. A more attractive ensemble of titles. Pink and black is chic. For Barbara Harris especially. I thought this was a chic book jacket. It pops. Christmas in Naples is such a different feel, so I don’t know what to do. I would make my whole site pink and black. I like that combination. I’ll think, but I like pink and black, and I like this for Barbara Harris.

Christmas in Naples is a Sport

It’s a SPORT, okay? Sorrentino knows. I don’t know how to translate that into Italian, since it doesn’t seem to totally work, but it is. I go CHRISTMAS IN NAPLES IS A SPORT, and it doesn’t totally seem to land. However, it’s clear. I will tell you, show you, I have pictures. We’re talking poinsettias, chewing my gum, shrugging my shoulders, in soccer ball vases. You don’t know what you’re up against. The impossible. But again, this is a SPORT. Not some Hallmark holiday. The goal here, tapping the table, is immortality. Show me an athlete, a professional one, at least, who does not understand this!

We must be READY to spring into action at any time.

We do not need calendars. Just please. Dates. This a fruit.

We have not lost the ancient system of intuitive functioning.

We just know, and we go.

I just spent an hour on my book, and it’s coming together, it’s just been challenging, so I’ve been trying a new approach: it’s easy, it’s totally easy to write a book, no problem. “I choose to believe that manifesting a book is easy.”

I’ll talk to this producer on Monday, but could I not sell this script idea? Naples is hot right now. Who wouldn’t like to see a Neapolitan Christmas comedy? Sports + Christmas. Isn’t this “the good combination?” I’m already trying to put together ONE bible, which has been challenging enough, but I don’t know what to say, because it feels like I could sell this…maybe I have to do one first, I don’t know. I just want to finish this book.

It seems like the first section is coming together.

Anyway, I’m off again.

I’m back.

I took Christmas EVE and I’m working on that excerpt now. I’m redoing my website so you can just read things right away. That’s why I had these buckets, but I thought it might be better to just put a few things up — clearly — and just leave it at that. Stuff you can read. I should be able to do a newsletter about Naples…so that will come. So that’s what I’m working on now.

I have to listen to Enya to make myself feel less afraid...

I had to, I just had to.

In my dreams last night, I was in Peru, confused, and a man showed up magical, wounded, a prince of some kind, and I thought, hm, maybe I will write some imaginative piece about some distant world where wizards roam…

Sorry. There’s nothing but possibilities. Enya.

I don’t understand why I still get flashes of fear, but I don’t care. I’ll listen to Enya, practice my lambada moves, remembering the Brazilian mother who danced freely, knowing full well she could blow your socks off. No fear. Namaste. This is the energy I am channeling, a force of fire…the Brazilian mother getting sexy — in front of you, the woman who took me out of my house… when I was four.

“Pay attention,” she said.

It gets less and less and yes, Enya helps me to believe in myself —to laugh, even, because I don’t always understand these flashes, especially when I just take a little time for myself, which I’m learning how to do because work-alcoholism isn’t the most productive way to go. I keep on moving through these blocks, is this human, necessary? I’m all about Lakshmi in that MY abundance does not prevent anyone else’s. I appreciate this symbol. A touchstone. I don’t believe in competition like that.

In this dream last night, a friend showed up, wanting me to call them, and I said, finally, this relationship doesn’t work for me. If you can’t take responsibility for your wants, if this is a power trip, then I decline. I didn’t even understand what this relationship was to begin with. So I took care of that.

I just keep plugging into gratitude, how excited I am about all the stories I hope to realize beyond this one, and that helps whatever this weird fear is that creeps in. I like thinking about this producer, because he is calm, ahead of schedule, and he said — produce the Bible. That’s the direction I wanted to go in, and he nodded. I want to bring more support like that. Direct. You should do this. You can. I feel super grateful to that production house. To the female director who said…who is that? At a wine bar. Doesn’t even speak English.

I’m connecting with my long-term goals, which have always been my goals, so any weirdness that creeps in…I’m just saying goodbye. I had to clear some energy this morning. And seriously, nothing has even happened yet. I’ll keep on believing in myself in Portici. Dreaming of a Utopian world where fruit trees line the sidewalks. Something futuristic. Back to the future.

I did my manifestation workshop today. I concentrated on the areas in my body that were holding onto trauma or just where these blocks manifest. That was useful. I’ve had to do this one several times on different areas of my body. Around days that aren’t work related, I can get a little fearful, which is silly. I enjoy making more space for myself. Breathing into abundance rather than lack. I’m just taking a “me” day. I felt like I needed a true rest day.

There’s nothing that prevents me from expressing myself to the fullest. Just watching Maestro, I thought, he got a call at 9:30 AM. He got the shot and he made it. That’s it. There’s NO reason why I would miss the shot, so that’s fine. Bernstein wasn’t like, hmmm, I’m not ready… he was ready on the day. No rehearsal. I’ll keep watching that. There are many extraordinary people out there…that’s my belief. Why not me? That’s the new bottom line, speaking of The Artist’s Way. I’ll keep exercising that belief in myself.

I had to re-organize who was closest to me. I have no interest in staying small. I have no interest in someone latching on, either. I never did that to anyone. I had a friend who started doing that, which was so ridiculous to me, that I couldn’t even believe it. As your manger… he called himself my manager, what a belittling statement to make with a hand, by the way. Hadn’t even finished a book yet, and like, go make movies if you want to make movies. Seriously, this person. Who also wanted to murder someone? Truly speaking. He would, you know, forget the title, at first, kill someone but his cushy life is the only reason why he’s not doing it, that’s the only reason, like is he listening to himself? I couldn’t respond, because I figured it just needed to be expressed, it was a time of despair, but that ended up scaring me, he ended up really scaring me…especially when I bought the shirt, you see, I knew he wouldn’t like, and his response? “Is this your boundary thing..” I was like, what? This is what I mean…what is this? And then, after, or maybe before, yeah, he made the “As your manager” comment, okay? Meanwhile, I’m just making the most basic reach in my life. So that person scared me, he really did.

Just to expel that. Expel this person completely. As your manager.

This person— was the one who insisted on calling himself my family, after all that, after I explicitly asked that no one do that. And of course, this person was the one to do that. Family, hm, at that time, not the button to push. After…all that. Saying “oh he thought he would play my character,” oh, “and a woman can’t play it,” sort of disappointed as if he had been talking to some woman behind my back. There was nothing but disrespect from this person. Lied to me too. About the key…that he left the key downstairs. Didn’t even apologize. So, why would I remain friends with this person? In a sense, “next time,” which will never be the case, I would just confront or just draw boundaries way way back there. I would never find myself in the same situation. I felt so confused, triggered, and I was moving out of a whole way of life. He kept putting on the fact that I just said, don’t joke about being a drug addict, okay, especially not at that time, because my mother was one. But he kept on acting as if I called him one, which I wasn’t, so it made him look even worse. He truly scared me. We’re no longer friends. I have no interest in any kind of repair. None. It’s over. And Will, I’m sorry, he would totally agree with me.

The crazy button, man, that one got too real. My way of responding was truly funny. I just took on too much. It’s a boundary issue. But there’s real love, like I feel that, so I would rather keep resonating on real love. I just concentrated on my choices, my end, made new decisions. I keep choosing differently, so HOW that affects my life, meaning, the people who are in it, even, all that, that takes care of itself.

Needed to get out some old stuff.

I’m going to breathe into another day of rest, get comfortable with my power. I honestly wasn’t expecting to struggle as much as I did with my self-worth and confidence, but I really did, and I don’t want to. It gets better. I’m just being honest, I didn’t even understand it. sI always arrive renewed, refreshed, and a little stronger — make the shot. That’s what Bradley Cooper suggests. Make the shot. He’s tall, I think, so he can pick me up and throw me to the net with a big smile on my face. This is the type of support I am seeking. So that helps. People who don’t care about people doing well, succeeding in their lives. That I know for sure. I am not nominated for an Oscar, he is, so. It helps to think about people who have made it.

I went through so much I couldn’t place, so, when your mother is jealous of you at four years old to the point that she’s going to manipulate a woman into keeping you for 4 years with stories about your father being a child molester and bounce, not pick you up, that’s scary. I was at a stranger’s house that felt safer than my own home. When it comes to these fears, I end up at the root of it, even if I don’t totally understand it, and it clears it. So that’s it.

We all have a world, we came from one, and sometimes, I am rather amazed at how these ideas can present themselves, especially when change starts to happen. This is The Year I was Invaded by the Russians. But then, in my own life, I learned that deeply firsthand. I didn’t know I was scared until a few years ago, so I can’t help that. I didn’t know I was scared for about 30 years. It just didn’t make sense…that a 4 year old wouldn’t be scared. And it turned out, I was so scared.

I’ve just been using this blog to support myself as I move into the next phase of my life.

I heard that safety is really the key to creativity. I’ve been meditating on that. Safety.

That took care of it.

Just moving through the apparitions of this mother figure…

That’s really the root of it.

Anyway, I’m off.

FORD VS FERRARI

AWKWARD…thinking about DR. J.

I had to laugh. My mother was a liar of liars. Totally strange.

And in watching this scene, you know, people can get angry, people can get angry…when people…lie. Even overreact. You see, Death, the Oldest Storyteller — there’s a section about that since people aren’t looking for perfection. Not in love. That’s not Death’s impression. I had this amazing moment, personally, when I started feeling so many feelings, messy, even, and feeling the value in them. I can’t wait to get upset. Blow up. The thing is, my father and I exclusively fought. But it started to feel so wonderful to have access to that…marvelous picturing myself saying…excuse me?! You have to care…care was another section, sometimes, I would have to take it slow, the feeling of care was overwhelming. Do I get upset with my friend, over that, getting lost, I can’t quite direct my feelings, just start caring. The rest will work itself out. I had to make new friends, in a sense, who encouraged me to keep writing, talking, supporting me.

I no longer care, also.

“Okay, Maria? You’re overreacting…” That’s my new goal. In a sense. AND? I might say “I am ACTING IN LINE, thank you.” I might crack up in the beginning. Marvelous scene. WHO’S THIS? Who is this, hand scanning, this? Get possessive. That wasn’t me. Angela bursts into my room — because she had a feeling, okay? She wants me, in the dark, to stop working this job. Could be a good rom com, or love story, about a woman who just comes into the equation, comedic, touching, Harris. Expecting to be approached in a particular way. Go on dates. I’m telling you. A couple of my boyfriends said that I was the first…and they had to watch how they put this… woman that they saw as a person first. Meaning, I didn’t act like a girl…I wasn’t asking for…anything…expecting anything from them…as men. I thought, I get that. It’s time to have more fun. I got mad, actually, I did get mad, when my boyfriend sent me flowers. On Valentine’s Day.

How funny is that?

It’s not like I haven’t gotten mad, but it was sort of just pinwheels in my eyes, I think. It was rare. Like fuck off. How dare you? I’m not afraid of losing anyone, does that make sense? Or, I know that I can be hurt, so that’s good to know, and like, people can take care of themselves. I don’t like hurting people. Which is good. I don’t have a dilemma over that or my goodness anymore either. From a certain perspective, my 2nd surrogate house? I don’t give a shit. Honestly. That was a bit of a ride. That house was sticky, so again, thought about the oldest storyteller, that flash, because that house as sticky. There was a lot of sticky emotions there, thought about the self more largely. Like, if I would have died, let’s say, theoretically, would I have hung around there. Just by nature of having gotten STUCK there, once I got to the meat of it, just the rage once I started really realizing that my father was SICK, this is why this WHOLE STORY HAPPENED. Obviously. Everything began to change.

I like this movie, by the way, I forgot that Bale is British. Monologues. Good writing. Scenes for actors. Mangold’s direction, it was nominated for an Academy Award. I see why. Just getting to know people.

NO! Bale is on fire! NOOOOOOOOOOOO Damon is RUNNING. Please no no no he’s not dead. Just please. Thank God.

This is fun. A biographical sports drama. True stories are fun. I mean Christmas in Naples is a Sport. People like sports movies. And it’s really funny how intense it is. Such a great party, ancient, like we’re going ONE MONTH. At least. No need for calendars, just please, we just know and we go. You must be ready when the time comes, that’s it. The Neapolitans are amazingly spontaneous. Just Angela turning and calling me “Allegra?” After my explosive performance at the dinner table in this super odd direction where I have to channel the Brazilian mother to be BELIEVED. They can tell she’s real. Yes.

But this movie is giving me a lot to think about…the racing sequences…just thinking about the party scenes in Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile… since these people have to get closer to Maria. Especially after the nosedive :( well, I just didn’t see bees, looking up at that treehouse. I didn’t see the bees, so just picture a fight between Angelita and Anthony kicking up as you see the two of us going up to that treehouse outside the window. Me leading the way. Just structurally actually. Not exactly, but you love these sequences. Focused.

Isn’t it unbelievable? Ford wants to beat Ferrari? Why are they so gross? Wanting to get rid of that driver, like who cares? LUCAS, just STOP. He locked him inside, good. Wow, that’s a big offer. Just take my company completely. He has to win. So you race for hours? Seriously? So it’s about the CAR, I get it, how good your car is. Sure, you “build” cars, but can they race? How long? You want him to beat these suits.

You see, the cars reflecting in Bale’s sunglasses? That’s Dr. J.

Bale becomes, he does, but Damon does too, no? I mean, I’m interested in this line. Barbara Harris is becoming someone else. it doesn’t challenge her talent in the slightest. She seemed to puzzle people. What was going on, right? Reading these press clippings.

As Bale does it to good music. He wins! BULLSHIT Shelby is going to be owned by FORD. His heart though. It’s okay. It’s nice, it looks really good, even the tiki bar. The framing is sharp. Everything is sharp. I don’t know what to say about — what 1989 looked like, but this film is so sharp.

Now the ITALIAN aka Sacha Baron Cohen is smiling.

The sound is super well done. Feeling like him right now, put her in the fast lane — go MARIA go. Make a movie. Become a filmmaker in one month. And do it, as BALE did it, in the RAIN. This sound design is really good. Couldn’t you picture this director doing something comedic too? Dark. Just this rain scene. Getting very real? Since that situation was really real. Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile. The one I was in at four years old that I’m going to sell soon. I asked the producer for notes…if he had them…and he didn’t.

Maybe I’ll mention this movie.

The VoiceOver in the beginning…hasn’t come back yet…these racing sequences, how fun they are. I enjoy the drama and intensity of it. These parties don’t have to go that long, either, but scenes can happen at one of these parties. Jose was truly funny just picture Ben Stiller. Everyone dances.

Time, I wasn’t sure how to phrase this, can move in a non-realistic way…just because it takes place in one house. If these girls are over the couch, going into the next scene to take it to the next level by putting on a performance for MARIA’s father, the child molester who’s sentenced to stand at the door. Well, eventually, I don’t know, she can blink, turn, and there’s another party. You get it’s not there, but she could be spacing out, whatever. Next song.

Angelita puts on a love song at a party, and then, she’s in the car…”pay attention.” Vice versa. She’s dancing, she’s clapping, she’s living and breathing in that red Cadillac and mini-van. She’s on the level. She has this level of passion— this race car sequence, when it comes to learning these love songs — yeah. This isn't 100% — this is 150.

And he wins.

I love the sound. This sound, in the end, when he’s in the lead, there’s something to it, in thinking about this group of people, something moving, ambient. MARIA looking at this, a totally different person. Uh oh, Damon is going to lose it, satisfying. He has a heart condition you piece of shit Lucas.

This line is interesting to me — what the self is.

You see, to me, what Barbara Harris knew, what she didn’t, whatever this was, after what I went through recently…that’s a deep question. I have no idea what her family was like, home life was like, but apparently it was a traumatic childhood.

F these people. Win the race, man. Bale just do it.

This company shit is SO annoying.

The whole POINT is to win.

A photo? Who cares? You just beat a record.

It’s interesting from an American perspective, you know, “The United States of America,” because this sort of individualism is what it’s all about, you can make it. Obama even said it, having made it. But the COMPANY comes first. That’s more of a monarchial idea. We the court decide. I can get you banned. Tyrannical.

I’ll think about what this director would do with my story. These elements involved. Mangold. A man known for his versatility. The lighting so so pretty. I like Damon’s VoiceOver in the beginning and end, the sound, “movement and speed,” something about the dance, heartbreak. A close up on…not a hat, but home basically. The details. That’s Maria. The rainbows. Why always his glasses? But these personal details tell me what their attachments are. What they care about.

These two people are legends.

I don’t know what to say about the social services section in Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile — I have to do research into WHAT they would have done in my case, but I see that trial, even if it’s fictional, since that’s the power of drama, actually, you can do that. I see that as being important in some way. I don’t know, we’ll see.

I can’t really explain it, I know it’s a period piece, Ford v Ferrari, super clear title, but there’s something kinda timeless about it too. He has to calm down. His heart.

Big fan of these two guys— can’t do it? Well, they did it, more than once. They did “the impossible.” Ferrari was like, what?

And here is The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar, an Oscar winner. It’s a short too. I could do a short.

I like Mangold. I’ll think about him.

Thinking about Death, the oldest storyteller.

Now I’m going to watch Bradley Cooper become Bernstein. And keep watching movies. I guess I’ll work on Xmas in Naples tomorrow, the narrative form, like, Bukowski, I keep on putting a hand there like please help me. He likes, in particular, the foliage section. There’s something pretty about the coast coming to life, winter life, sure, but what grows there…and my cousin is supplying all the produce from his farm. So he’s coming in with the recolte.

I thought that it would be a no brainer to sell as a film, but I can’t do two bibles…I don’t think, but maybe I’ll ask him on Monday. I don’t know quite what I need to do to communicate what kind of film it is, but then, look, the idea is, get out of the way, and just go all the way, this is the oldest storyteller. I recorded a lot, you see, like this pool scene, truly, when I walked into the house and it was pool on TV… I was blown away. While the Christmas even menu is just heating up. Rosa is laughing, judgmentally, at lemon zest. Lemon zest…then this scene between the pool players was so funny. The blond missed the shot so the brunette in a black silk shirt…really takes his time. He’s not missing the shot.

My manifestation goal is to get a book deal, that’s my long-term, for this year, and this clown article, you know, I could see that being a book, a good one, about the wisdom of clown, but also looking at real clowns, today, like I mentioned Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting since I’m using the mythic framework of society as an introduction because clown has been here the whole time…so like, who’s this new guy? Wandering off…isn’t that right, chief? Since clowns and chiefs are bosom buddies for life, the chief doesn’t like it, sometimes, but it’s the way it is. You’re getting a clown, and as clown as societies have clowns, just because, this clown scholar said, “every society except Totalitarian regimes.” Boom, I should go to the Hannah Arendt Center. So clowns are instruments of belonging, so I can show how a clown relates to the whole structure. That’s really what it’s all about. We built it, like buildings, you see. A clown knows this.

My editor said that my first round was practically done, compelling, I just wasn’t as pleased with it, so I rewrote it, or just cleaned it up, I think, except it still isn’t what I want it to be, so I might eek work on it again, do another round at that spectacular library here in the optical illusion palace of the Spanish rulers…Javier Bardem. But I could see that getting picked up. You see, order does not concern me. I would totally love to write that book. I just like A Thousand Clowns meets the Hero with a thousand faces. Big whoop to clown, big deal, right? Cause I can fit a thousand clowns in one car, easy…it’s a physics problem, even. Letting them drive the narrative a bit just around what we have to learn from that figure. Especially around sacredness as an idea. What that is. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that one. It’s just the article, I can’t totally explain it, but it loses that line of focus? It isn’t crystal clear to me yet and you know, I just want that to be. Like, the women in Tehran having “a hell of a time,” telling this clown NO, on stage, because they can’t say no to the authorities, I’m not sure if that fits, but the clown does make us rethink about what “the devil” is. Necessary. It’s not a clown, though, I was trying to focus on the clowns for this one, but it’s a reflection of it, so I wasn’t sure, just based on what that piece sets itself up to be about. Backwards becomes a thrilling new idea, like, sure, backwards as in…you can ride into battle backwards, hilariously, and confuse your enemies. The profundity of clown is clear to me. There’s a way “it” goes, but it doesn’t have to go that way. You see.

I thought, huh, do I contact someone with that link? Look at this. Once it’s published. This is a good book idea. I don’t quite know how to handle that. But I might write a page, maybe, an introduction, and basically go, this is the idea generally speaking. It doesn’t have to be that long. I just need to read more clown sources, like I can’t put in the pity clown, tranny, these other clowns, it’s not a history of clowns, but more in relation to structure, psychology, wisdom, what it is. And why a clown can speak out, or why a clown is sometimes compared to something more like an animal, no. At first, I was staring, right, writing the article, out a country home in England…watching horses, the finest horses, in a British accent…no? A tamed yet wild beast. Right. Animal. Just thinking about our ideas around nature, even, since clown came into existence the second we started coming up with society, conceptually. The very first village, boom, chief and clown broke out then, come into existence, at the very same time and have been doing pas de deux…ever since.

A child can speak out, because they are a child, they just say it, that’s a clown. Like me in church at 4, hearing “on the third day he rose again,” and I looked around this room like “did he just say a man ROSE from the dead?” That was a step too far. “No he didn’t…” I said it. Like come on…please. The nervous laughter was interesting. But you see, a clown is seen as one of these sacred figures in some societies. That’s why a clown can speak out. You don’t kill clowns. Not unless the government, you see, is tyrannical. Then, we’re in trouble. You do not kill clowns. They are relating to structure…but they play different roles…so I figured I might be able to organize it that way, but the point is healing. Robin Williams in Good Will Hunting. Obviously. He’s not a hero, he’s a healer. He doesn’t like smarts though he is a genius, basically. So using contemporary examples…send in the clowns…um, they are already here.

No one wants a hero today, I think, the world needs a healer, that’s a clown.

Just keep doing what I do.

I needed to take a break these past couple of days.

So what do I need to do? I gotta turn back on tomorrow.

I drank a whole bottle of Lambrusco

And I would do it again. I wouldn’t actually. But I woke up feeling hung over and happier than I ever have in my life. I turned on the TV, successfully. I watched The Last of the Mohicans because I love Daniel Day-Lewis but more so for Barbara Harris. Arthur Kopit said that “this isn’t Daniel Day-Lewis, this is Barbara Harris. She isn’t becoming the role, she’s becoming someone else…” Okay? So, I watched the man that Spielberg said “becomes” the thing. He’s not getting bent out of shape as to what that means, he just needs the guy who’s going to become the guy. Maybe I’ll watch The Mask next since Jim Carrey became the mask itself, you understand, first. Early. So, what’s that? Barbara Harris has no mask? Like you’re…watching…Jim Carrey become Daniel Day-Lewis? Like OBAMA. It’s OBAMA becoming Daniel Day-Lewis becoming OBAMA. He did it. He became himself. I’m just joking around, even for her, I don’t know, because she had an illness, apparently, like it was apparent, you couldn’t not see it, and she was extraordinary because of it? One of these. I thought she might have been a prodigy of some kind, hilarious, back in the day, I would have courted her as a psychologist, it would have been funny. Truly.

I suppose times have changed.

But imagine that? You’re told your whole life that something is wrong with you to discover you’re the most amazing……presence…..that anyone has ever seen. lol. Wow. But thank God for her, because I’m not even “there,” and I still have to boost myself up. Me? On this Netflix channel? Yes. Why not? She’s my biggest influence next to Hannah Arendt.

So I watched Daniel Day-Lewis. Such a good actor. Why is that such a good movie? The Last of the Mohicans. I refer to this title all the time, not knowing why. I thought about Cruise, also, in The Last Samurai, how he, too, had to put a Bible together, and so, he took screenshots as I have of his references. It’s sort of like that…it just cracked me up…watching Cruise on Photoshop…putting together a movie bible. With a tea. I suppose it’s…

The thing is, Lewis knows who Harris is. Everyone does. She’s considered to be one of the best. De Niro’s favorite actress. So, Bradley Cooper knows that. You see the connections? Inside the Actor’s Studio. I appreciated getting to know her work. Why would I not pursue what I wanted? If I really wanted that? And now, I’m taking a couple of days off, since I have over two weeks. Over two weeks. A God send. I love this man, this producer man. Thanks for not telling me. Whatever. And there he is: Cruise—blond. Sure. So many ghost movies. Truly.

I don’t know what to say about me as a baby hanging out with The Breakfast Club, I hope it does make you laugh. It’s the heartwarming feel through this real crazy story, the family, this one. The memories. It was a comedic group of people even if it’s going to get really real. Even this couple’s love for each other is funny. She is. 100% — her fabulous legs make her funnier. You’ll really care about these people, hopefully. They are A TIGHT TALENTED FAMILY, I mean, wow. Jose really did make it to # 1 at sixteen. (Matt Damon is in a cool car, coming in from the future. Voiceover. Oh, we’re going back in time…okay, I’m going to have to really watch this movie…)

People came over to their family parties for that reason too. They were an inspirational family, Brazilian and Jewish? I mean. That’s where I was…the cutest baby ever. Not to say that I was. But that’s what that picture is. You need to find THAT baby. Meaning, the BABY that’s going to ATTRACT audiences. Right? Who’s that baby? In this situation? Please no. She’s hilarious. Just my little hands grabbing onto his and her seat, at the police station again, my face coming visible so pissed, like I intend to SEE THIS. A bust? There were so many police cars, I remember that. Anyway, THAT baby is speaking her mind…telling this dancing woman her point of view on the Catholics. She would…look at me… I hated the Catholics. I was already confused as to what these people believed in. On the third day he rose again…that was the kicker. I had never heard such outrageous stories! He just said a man rose from the DEAD. Have you ever heard of such a thing? I was blown away. I told this priest, out loud, in church. “No he didn’t…” come on. And the nervous laughter really stayed with me. So do you believe in this? I’m confused.

I was a true terror.

Running through this house…

Unafraid.

No one will go near me…because I will bite scream throw…so JOSE has to…

He did, he had to screw me up with confusing footwork.

That was a tough time. Hilarious.

There’s only so much that a four-year-old can do. But I was doing it.

It’s not my fault, but when you think about what could have happened to me, these people were the nicest, no? Women holding down the perimeter screaming JOSE! These were real matches between us. Snarling. Angry.

And the thing is, last night, I mean, Jesus Christ, was that true? I mean, about my father…I went through something rather terrible. My mother was tough on that level. At that age, I knew what sexual abuse was, because I figured my mother had been a victim of child abuse, I mean…I can just picture Angelita’s face if I told her that my mother put on a chaste routine. In Paris. That really…Lady, I remember your lovers, delusional. A totally delusional person. Angelita saw her naked body. She was THAT. She could just get naked. She was loose. The definition of.

It’s just that, with her, at least, someone might go, hmmm what brilliant writing, when it’s just Dr. J. Yeah, just exit naturalism. she can call 5 times in a row. She’s a wild card. I’m a tad bit worried that people might not believe she’s real. They’re expecting a typical “villain” so I might not be able to fully go there yet, hmm, she’s not believable, well, that was part of the problem. You didn’t believe it. We’ll see, I have another mask for her… more artful. I don’t know how to put that. A slightly different version. But she really was unbelievable. I couldn’t tell if she had something structural going on, you see, I don’t use “mental illness” because I typically go back to their home first. Boundaries, consequences, abuse, filth? Meaning, it was unclean? Did you eat? Okay? I came from an unbelievable story, so this isn’t…was sexual abuse that casual? I mean, what the hell was this?

I wondered if she lacked basic filters between realities. A phrase came into my head one day as I was meditating on her psychology when I was 12 since she fascinated me, truly speaking. NO filter between realities. So I contemplated mine. Between dreams. Daydreaming. And real life. We have areas within the psyche that allow us to express fantasy, even, but DR. J — even that name — seemed to lack these filters. Separations. A friend of mine gets PARANOID that she’s really sick when she starts to feel sick, meaning, it’s grave. She knows that it’s not true, but she gets paranoid. I can see these structures in people. She’s not going to go all the way and start acting super sick…because she has this small fear. There are limits. You need those. Belief is not nothing. I didn’t see those in her. So as a kid, I studied people, like I see the architecture. I see that there’s a basic structure. With her…not so sure. And now, who knows?

Matt Damon driving fast in a goddamn car.

I was OBSESSED with psychology. I mean, truly obsessed. That’s why I went into theater so young, actually, but then, I couldn’t really do it until now…I started looking up people who came into the profession later in life. People do. I have artistic goals now. The Oldest Storyteller is one of them. Sort of a scary feeling. It could actually happen. And going, putting down BROTH, since you know, Lambrusco just goes down. I got a vision through this character: the oldest storyteller. It showed up, almost reached out a hand, like you could get here. I just couldn’t believe it. Really? And it’s a character I’ve been developing for years now. I can get there. The last original apartment in the Chelsea Hotel is such a splendid setting for Death, at least, to begin, since a fairytale was almost coming to an end in my world, and his lines are exquisite. I hope so.

“It will not hold architecturally, this will not hold, not architecturally.”

That was the feeling I started to have. This won’t hold.

I can turn the wheel now.

And that seems to be very true. I went through quite a deep transformation of self. It’s not the same world. Wouldn’t have made the same decisions. At all. On any level. Except, I have some stories to share about someone who made unusual choices all the same…The Year I was Invaded by the Russians. And The Oldest Storyteller is about that journey. I guess coming out of repression. I led myself with the power of storytelling as a guide, Death is the ultimate guide, so that’s what that was, I just liked the idea of bringing a character like that into the world — who doesn’t like power or who isn’t about power, someone who looks every Man straight in the eye. And I did feel time bend, which is funny, and I could begin to use that experience in some way. I mean, I think that I could have gotten sick, that sometimes, I mean, I think I even experienced a miracle. “I have seen Gods die to become ordinary men, and I have seen ordinary men die to become extraordinary men,” that line rose from my belly as ENERGY first. It rose as a full line. I was in quite a lot of pain.

No more pain.

That was quite a year.

The LINE got me out of bed because it was so sensationally strange, impossible.

I’ll get there…but it will be breathtaking, Death will be breathtaking.

That’s not even technically it. That’s not even in that story, I think, but I’m just saying.

Look, um, when your friend says he might murder a PERSON first, or that he would, conceptually, kill a politician but it’s a person first…you see. Why not me? That’s why he scared me. I just had particular problems. Which is in The Oldest Storyteller. That part. “As your manager?” Then, this guy called himself my manager. He knows it. Or else, he’s taken too many drugs. You see??? As your manager with a belittling hand. You see, his talk about the apocalypse? Belittling. I just had no idea what this was. And he continued to disrespect me. No longer friends.

I’m on a different train of thought now, BUT I always loved classical, so that’s Death to me: DEUS EX MACHINA. I saw that t-shirt, I thought, huh. He, she, they are coming down to set some things straight. That was quite a journey for me personally, more like an awakening, so I like Death on the brink of dawn. It became one of my artistic goals. I’m not there yet, so “insert good monologue” later. Since I needed to lay down sometimes. Home, for example. The sensation or the experience of some of these openings were a bit too large to have a casual conversation. Why is this (The Giver) so deep? Well, because it’s home. Watching Daniel Day-Lewis helps. I’m waiting to hear about this contest I submitted a scene to, but I’ll probably just publish that one soon on my website. I am going to redo it. Since this is Meet Joe Black on a whole other level. Death steps into the last original apartment at the Chelsea Hotel…

And here I am, about to submit my first movie idea to the festival circuit? I have no social media platform but FILM doesn’t give a shit but BOOKS do? I suppose I’ll get there. In any case, with The Oldest Storyteller, I might do a short first, of DEATH just leading someone through a flash. That’s one part of it. Doesn’t matter where…you go. You can imagine it being cool. Obama might see it. This is my goal. It truly is. The Obamas saw it.

I’ll just send them a copy.

Death is this interesting character because it exists regardless of the reality…fiction, nonfiction, since I had problems with these genres…and I could work it out….laughing because Death exists regardless. As an idea. There’s something called an end. And now, I’m here. I suppose nothing has happened yet, but I’m a step closer to realizing what I saw? People write movies, maybe successful ones, which, look, that’s what I’m reaching for, why wouldn’t I? I’m sort of talking about it over here on the side, since no one reads my blog, since nothing has happened yet. Yeah, I’d like to write a female Joker, of course I would, I mean, DR. J? Though JOY might be a better name. That’s another goal. Something. Great. Truly, nothing but depth here, that the VILLAIN set me free.

I have no idea what to say about my parents, but I went through something totally excruciating, and I saw the Joker. That was the darkest before the dawn moment. Hilariously. I could write a female Joker. I couldn’t conceptually go there, it was too painful, even, I couldn’t CONCEIVE in that direction, too sensational. But I could get there. Now, I’m like, ooooo villains, how fun! And I thought, oh, well, villains could do a lot of good. So, I suppose I could make Dr. J a hero in some other world now, but I could write a super compelling iconic female villain. A real Joker. So, step one, gotta get out of here, the hospital. I wasn’t going to receive care here, too confused, no one was equipped to handle abuse, like are you feeling things? You cannot ask me “are you experiencing hallucinations, it’s sensations…” that’s the question. Yes, on that level, yes.

My friend totally terrified me, too, understandably, with CRAZY talk. Oh? You would murder someone? Is that what you’re saying? The ONLY reason WHY you wouldn’t KILL a politician, excuse me? Is because of your cushy life? But again, I was coming out of a whole way of life, and I had structural problems, meaning, even the people I was CLOSE to. People change, that too. Death was there. Is there. By default! But what am I supposed to do? It’s just an idea. I’m more on THAT side of things now since I grew up…in a sense.

And some message ended up coming through my website, interestingly, punched me in the gut at the end of this remarkable year where I opened my childhood back up. Which was why I thought these couple of people did it. I asked for my money back the night before…and this message came through at 5 am (I’m already up) about my bank being shut down. Now, I thought they hated me, in fact. So that message hit me physically in that, a block of stone MOVED, it was crazy, and HIT another. So, will I come to find that was repression in some deep way since I started feeling all sorts of things? But when it came to abuse, it was a lie, wasn’t it? I hung onto that very tightly. I couldn’t even speak. Talk about it. It was a lie. But you see, in the real story, which is going to be in this fiction, but I’m changing the outcome. She decided it wasn’t true…about my father…based on what?

THAT LADY?

My whole understanding of that situation changed.

Death is cool, since it’s also a return to childhood, though I would never use that word as a child. I was SO SO serious. Befriending “concepts called death” to understand my father’s condition. You see? I was living in a strange world. I had never shared it with anyone. So, in a sense, who else but Death? Death, I was thinking, what does that flash even mean? What a remarkable question. What does that mean? Your whole life? Especially since my WHOLE life changed. Whoosh, I’m glad I worked that out because I feel like I HAVE my WHOLE life. There’s a real difference. I’ve probably always wanted to feel this way. Like, I wake up feeling happier and happier and I can pursue something. That’s Death.

He just can’t change that he exists. That’s it.

I don’t hold the belief system that the GODS or Death is out to get you. I obviously can’t explain why people die, but I experienced something more like a miracle…that life is about your fulfillment. Why would “he” want to get in the way? He just can’t change that he exists. The ultimate guide: Death. I thought a little healing in that direction might do some good. And “time” doesn’t really exist, though it does, since that time-bending experience showed me that. You see, I started REALIZING that it happened, for real, so I totally freaked out like 25 years later. WHAT?! I FELT TIME BEND? A bit hard to believe…but it happened. I can’t help that I grew up in the circumstances that I did.

I don’t know what to say…but the kids at St. Jerome’s School really actually supported me through the worst. And it was a beautiful moment since The Oldest Storyteller is about the power of storytelling, and that’s what you want, you want that language to be thrilling, you want Death to be that, and I got my whole life back, in a sense, with these kids, these great kids, running to support me. So it’s almost like I got support in my story to get through the most difficult…and then, I saw “a moving moment” with that character over there because I had to stay there for a moment…that school…because I needed to.

Death can’t change what my life was, what it meant to me, you see. But I started to see that that school, that class, might be pure gold. “A great environment for a story,” this is the oldest storyteller. I would have NEVER thought about it, but it’s SO true. That class. It’s ALL about that class. I guess a character is like an idea, just like anything else, I just found it to be rather powerful. Seeing the potential in my own story. What I could do with it. That was a sensationally tough period. So a class of kids — more than one — held me in a sense. Now, I’m cohesive. It was almost like I drew OUT my inner child, forget not in touch with, and I GREW UP. Seeing myself for the first time as a kid. It’s going to make sense, how I got “off track,” though healing seems to have taught me that nothing is lost in a way though I had to go through loss of time, meaning, I’m 38, I’m not 20. But that’s it. That gets easier. You’ll see, though, how I actually came together, I just couldn’t help where I came from.

I had to go through delusion too, it’s just, to Death, to that kind of character — there’s nothing that unusual about delusion. It’s Death, a part of every story ever told, so that perspective inspired me. Helped me. Nothing you can’t do. Not really. Death had even seen miracles. Really. And then, I love the space of the unknown which Death also doesn’t negate. And it’s dynamic since I went through a lot.

I’ll just never forget it. It wasn’t exactly a hallucination. I was writing (The Hours) and let’s say a new perspective was dawning in me, like “maybe you weren’t the biggest bitch that ever was,” at four, that’s it. That was the only suggestion. And, amazingly, “the characters from my life” came RUSHING in: a psychological space. To defend that belief. I felt like HOOKS on my body. Like what is this? So I had to work through a belief system I had no awareness of.

Oh great, I thought, Death can be thrilling and fast.

I went through the “I don’t believe this, do I?” Well, I guess I did. I never thought about how I felt. I went through a crisis of meaning, everyone seems to be in one, so even better. Right on time. As a fiction, it all works. Death sort of raising someone even, sort of interesting. Um, talking to a HUMAN, thinking about that FLASH, creating a role…I have these moments that are so vivid in my mind like me holding the tape recorder — since I was WAKING up — and Death is on the couch behind me, in every moment, I see, looking out the window. It’s cool, right? Asking me…what this meant? Asking me questions that had to do with that, thinking, OH, that’s your DOMAINE. Meaning. That’s Death’s domain. Meaning. Everything has meaning.

And sure, not everything HAS to mean something, seriously.

But that’s his domain.

He has to become a blade.

Through these voices.

It’s just that the presence of Death really did something. Since…what are you going to say to Death? Really?

Evidently, it’s easy to say now, but WHO CARES IF IT WAS TRUE? WHO CARES? IF IT WAS TRUE? It doesn’t have to be true. If you think about how young people learn things, even if I was the WORST criminal, since I FELT like that way. By the time I got to New Jersey, yeah, since that’s where I am now…the second family I got involved with. That took me in.

I think I searched for honesty, and you can’t lie to Death. There was something soothing about it. He’s not a judge. Honesty. I thought that was another one of these words that people might appreciate. Which ends up, too, being a deep subject. And there was one idea, I mean, God is in everything, too, it’s just that DEATH is an idea that everyone knows is real. Really real. Even the atheists can’t argue that Death doesn’t. Really. What it means is another question.

I don’t need to go there. It’s a bit too much. Like, it takes 7 days to cross over, this sort of thing, and I don’t know what to say about my dream recently, but it was rather fascinating. I saw my father in his office still confused…as to where he was…why was he in NY? When his office is in LA. So I had to take him in…to help him die. He was still dying. This was the dream. And then, I found myself in a primordial space, like a cave, and his body got on a slab next to his siblings, okay lineage, and crossed over. It was just like that. I woke up in Pompei. I had to in the middle of the night…work through that dream.

I figured that The Oldest Storyteller as a story would continue to develop itself, it’s a fiction, now that I don’t have beef with fiction.”I’m not a liar,” you see, that fear, was really real. And this story idea started making fun of me…like, ooooo, here’s some imaginative section, and we’re driving past THE ACTUAL street, so do we have to go back to your house? Or can we just get to the scene? Put it somewhere else? Does it make it less true? I had these hang-ups. Truly. I couldn’t move. I am not a liar!

I had to work out a lot personally but as a fiction it works.

Wonderful. I’m writing a fiction already.

Once Upon a Time on Miracle mile Is REAL. It really happened. But I have to write it. I think I’m right. A family centered drama/comedy is the way to go. NOW, three weeks later, I can conceive of going home, doing anything, really. Everything FLOWS is actually quite good, I think, but this producer doesn’t even have time to read ONE, but he IS, for me, and he told me it was a month when it was really a month and two weeks. Which I really appreciated. You see, freedom, I don’t even give a shit that he lied, or got the date wrong, who knows? I got a bottle of Lambrusco.

Suffering a bit today but BARELY. I watched The Last of the Mohicans and everyone should.

I saw nothing but possibilities.

Death The Oldest Storyteller, it felt, okay, if I’m being honest, that I opened up my life…the past…to write something…and it could have gone in a few ways, to keep it focused, on the field of PROBABILITY. One of those might have been dark since it seemed like it was going to be a bumpy ride regardless. I had to put some relationships away. Yada yada. But I could get here. That’s it. Thrilling. Just seeing that idea get more real. I’ll publish that short soon. Just how that character moves…and my character is…figuring it out…since it’s about focus too. I had a problem of focus, nothing wrong, you see, but he can move in the blink of an eye, “wherever you turn,” you see, she’s figuring it out…”you’re not in a rush…” Why would he be? You see? Takes his time. Just think about STORIES. That’s his domain! Storytelling.

DEATH doesn’t care that I am psychic. He even helped me with that. In a scene. Grabbing my head in Istanbul, needing to deal with THIS, even. Someone called me “a portal, channel, and antenna traveling on multiple planes of existence,” this is why I have trouble manifesting…now I’m in Fes, Morocco, getting my breakfast bread, sorry I had Lambrusco yesterday, so my mind is moving in a particular way…but that day, that morning, I saw a magical weave which was before this moment in Istanbul, but I felt like I was starting to be able to, remember your WHOLE life. But I had to work through people believing that I was really psychic, I’m not that psychic! Come on. Last night, a couple of people appeared in my mind — like — talking about me? Like, I’m not that psychic. No. Close that door. Did they? If Will did, cool, but I don’t care. Anyway, back in Istanbul, this character appeared — pointed to a door and told me to walk through it. A portal, sure, the decoration was not his concern.

“By the rules of reality, you have a choice.”

Istanbul.

On some level, you’re choosing.

Just think of him her them as “the oldest storyteller” here.

Having less story.

Step one.

Choice.

I don’t have to.

Ridiculous! I mean, people speak to me, some, as if my psychicness…you can’t not see it. I have no idea why. But I’ve had enough mysterious experiences to…talk about that. Energy being the base of it.

Now, as an idea, DEATH can move. No one is “attached” to…it, right? Death looking at me. He’s just a door.

You see, the order of this story can change since I typically take a visual ride when I take this character for a spin, so we’re in Istanbul in my mind. If you stop to consider TIME since I had this experience with time, it’s interesting. What choices we’re making in the field of everything that is: probability? Is it true? Does the future write the past, in a sense? CHOICES. CHOICE. So I just made a door, on my walk, and walked through it. Choice. I have a choice. I left the psychic stuff behind. On that level, just help me. If I turn out to be very psychic, “cool.” I’ve had enough mysterious experiences, yes, if there’s energy in the room, I’m the one who’s going to feel it, typically, so “cool,” all good, people love these stories, DEATH saw no issue with it, and I could even think about it because I am psychic, I’ve had mysterious experiences, but I had to seriously clear my head. I left that behind. You go be psychic.

“As far as I can tell,” one of his lines. Good right? Death helping me with “the psychic stuff” even. Sure, Death can assemble “extraordinary men” through time and space, sure, and I might just be one of them. My character. Even the “it’s not innocent until proven guilty,” Death appeared in a courtroom. Since justice is his domain as well. He’s not a judge. “It’s that you’re all fundamentally innocent.” That’s it. That’s just the Oldest Storyteller.

Deep, big, can’t wait to get there—fast. The “step by step with Death” is going to be thrilling. Out of Wonderland, even. It’s probably some warrior technique, don’t you think? Keep death close. But remember, a, I don’t know if someone I knew sent me that stupid message at 5 AM. It doesn’t matter, that impact was intense. But then, I have no idea what to say about the past + “the body records everything,” uh. Plus someone who has “human problems,” which I did, I thought was moving. I just love death’s eyes between the shadows of my pink blinds. No? As a kid. Making all these decisions.

And you can picture — spiritually even — the oldest storyteller performing a role…”you made a decision.” I became aware of the decisions I made since Death is a strict focus. I remember trying to describe this character at one point…”he’s purely present…” “Strictly,” he corrected me immediately. “Strictly present. Purely is your transference,” he said in Ignazo’s room. He suggested that I adopt the perspective. He pointed at me. “Adopt it. Adopt the perspective!” I was pure, he was strict, so I’m stricter, in general. As a person. Not pure. There’s a blade for you, okay? I invented the character — I did it.

Just the magic of stories, you know, having went through the period where I called Death a fool, just as a joke, not for real. Finally, I typed… “say aristocracy.” And, well, I couldn’t, I couldn’t say it right. “Try.” And then, I couldn’t say it right. “ARIStocracy.” I laughed. “ArisTOcracy…” I can’t even say “aristocracy” correctly, the letters make no sense.

I saw people enjoying this one.

“As far as I can tell…” A good line for that character, right? The oldest storyteller that meets The Giver, too. A part of every story ever told.

Not going off too much but I just love that story. I love that character.

On a personal note, I think it could have gone in a few ways for me, opening up my childhood, the whole thing, since it’s true, it wasn’t going to hold architecturally. It was going to be a bumpy ride probably, or I might have gotten sick, I don’t know, if I didn’t make some decisions back then. Especially around repressed anger, fear. I’m still young, does that make sense? I wanted to live a long life, I really did, and it was like — hold on…is that a question? 50s is still young. So I turned a wheel…because no one is worth my life…no one’s ideas are WORTH my life. There was a successful route. I saw in this character’s eyes…a vision beyond my wildest dreams. I could get there. I could tell that story. I’m not there yet. I felt the impact of it, even, that’s what I think, I hope, I felt that. And I got through that. And, I’m just a little closer. FROM TURKEY. I’m in Italy now. Needing to eat.

Taking two days off. That’s it.

I did drink an entire bottle of Lambrusco. I never do that. I feel a little heavy, you know, typing through this, needing to eat, but I’ve just never been HAPPIER. Truly. I wanted to feel like this my whole life. I really did. Interesting because it’s ME, but then, many people don’t know me, so who cares? Only because to some, who cares, Death is quick (lol), I might have appeared…I don’t know…but I know the difference. So imagine, I sell my first movie idea, and then, it’s so good. And I’ll get to the oldest storyteller…so now, I have to…watch Matt Damon race. I like Matt Damon. I like lots of people.

I watched The Last of the Mohicans and The Talented Mr. Ripley because Mr. Wonderful showed up in my head and told me to watch more films by Anthony Minghella. Which I’ll probably do. Another Lewis film too. Gangs of New York.

I still have to digest movies.

Got food.

I'm completely exhausted and wonderful...

LOL

Picture this as a family portrait…lol…this family of SIX sports stars and two parents still amazingly wildly in love dancing the lambada together gets into THIS situation: me. A four year old.

The mother/Nina from The Forbidden Dance brings home a BABY of 4 years old to “I am a Woman in Love” in a hilarious musical performance after warming up to Julio Iglesias. And MARIA charges across this woman’s lawn to throw the house upside down upon arrival…

DR. J — a totally unreal human being offers Angelita money, money, and then, she accuses Maria’s father of being a child molester…on the light end…while MARIA totally, unbelievably, REFUSES to yield. JOSE — number one at tennis in the USA at 16 must rise to meet her, women holding down the perimeter screaming JOSE! His legs over the ottoman.

Now, put the kids in different groupings for these pictures… as they will go down in history…for their family dance parties…

OH, the child molester. ANGELITA starts playing a LITTLE NICE GAME WITH THIS MOTHER FUCKER. CALLING HER HOUSE?????? SURE!!!! THE NICENESS WAS FELT, A BLADE. MARIA play along, shaking her head at me at this MAN…inviting me on VACATION.

Time to dance baby, regardless.

SEXY SAX.

And on the heels of a party, my father starts asking to come OVER? TO VISIT? PLACES! NICOLE and MARIA start going NUTS across this house…as she opens her front door (in a darker tone) and he’s sentenced to stand and watch the show. I had to ignore him in a state of glee. It’s evidently a show. But then, looking at DR. J, what can you say? He got the door sentimentally slammed in his face. “THANK YOU, THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH, REALLY, FOR THE MEMORIES,” the door closing, “that we made together…”

High five!

“And what are you going to say to the lawyers?”

JOSE is over the banister.

MARIA is already out of the back.

He’s flying out a window.

Slip in slide parties. It doesn’t matter. I’m misbehaving.

I refused to put on sunscreen!!

NO ONE ELSE DOES.

St. Elmo’s Fire.

Picture someone nodding… looking back at all this. The poster. The family portrait. I can’t really speak to “the me, the adult” looking back on this right? Because I’m just doing a family pic, I don’t know if I’m going to do a VoiceOver…if that’s necessary or I’ll just show you, but there’s a bit of that sentiment, I suppose, looking at their family videos to “Through the Years.”

THE SEXY SAX IS THE MOTHER dancing in her bedroom regardless of what’s happening… she might snap at Julianne Moore for calling her and saying a bunch of shit from The Hand that Rocks the Cradle, by the way, another movie I have to watch again from the era…

I can’t use other movie posters, the producer said, so no problem. I stayed up all night again — but who cares? Trying to communicate a vision. Not really knowing yet. But it’s still pretty clear to me, still, I’m moving at the speed of light. He’s so busy, but he hasn’t let go. He wants something from me. So we’re going to discuss next MONDAY…what? I thought I had until the end of this week? I know the story is good. I know the ingredients are perfect. The heart button is the one to push.

ANGELITA dancing in her bedroom in a holy light….cracking up at her own heat…her kids looking up…always needing something, ANGELITA suddenly snapping at them.

Can you imagine? If you got into this situation?

This baby’s parents get crazier?

The mother disappears? Owing you thousands of dollars now? 3 years later. 4. And your husband must help you get out of insanity? Since ANGELITA will go insane. And Penelope Cruz in Immensita goes a little insane. Light. But she burns up the house.

I think the nostalgia of the 80s, Through the Years by Kenny Loggins, all that, is the right comedic note to strike. It’s Barbara Harris. No? She’s back bitches. I was going to put that in my bible, but took it out, because I wasn’t sure if that was going to translate. Endearing, heartfelt. So maybe pink.

You know that part in Heavenly Creatures where she has a real fight with her mom? Lynskey. In her room. You can feel that style, well, we’re going to take a turn…down that real dramatic road, where the situation gets startling real. The sprinklers turning on might make you jump.

I think that’s right.

My parents did nothing.

Plus, I computed that, crazy, that in 1990, or around then, this Brazilian mother got paid 12,000 dollars a month… to do this. That’s the value of 1,200 a week. That’s real money. And of course, she always said it wasn’t enough, so I don’t know what to say about that. It could have been more. DR. J got 15,000 out of her sister so I could go to the “University for Children,” seriously, you see? She was like that. That’s about a month of expenses for this?

The producer said we have 2 more weeks.

Good, he’s a good man, right?

He told me that we had a month…………….alright, so now, we have two more weeks. Thank God. I can do this! I’m relieved.

It’s just the ending to the actual story isn’t…satisfying, it’s not an ending. ANGELITA did convince herself that my father wasn’t a child molester— because DR. J is a massive liar, it’s not that, it’s just, in this situation, I have no idea what that was. And all that is FUN in a script —DR. J’s unrealism, my father, the looming figure, this family also Brazilian getting HEATED…but based on this conversation that ANGELITA has, just about to lose it, her marriage on the rocks, please, this is the love of her life, okay? She’s going to invite the father over…and tell him that she lied, and based on his response, she’s going to really lose it. “She can stay with you while I figure this out…” UHHHHH, ANTHONY is going to have to rise from the DARKNESS to KIDS everywhere. And they have to go get MARIA — JOSE her guardian now. She dropped me off…remember this day?

Calling her. I remember that. I couldn’t stay here. She dropped me off because not her KID. Just like that, no warning, just dropped me off, I was totally traumatized. I don’t have a BED in this house!!! I couldn’t say that back then, but NOW I can. Please! My parents were INSANE!

Imagine?

At least, my father was diagnosed with the disease after these years, man. Didn’t tell anyone though. Thanks.

So, I went to bed at 11 am? Slept a few hours. Woke up, my calf burning, so much pain, thoughts swirling in my mind, UPDATES, you suck, no I don’t, the producer —he hasn’t let go. I’m getting there. I know the story is really good. I think the Immensità images are actually good — with her dancing with these kids…it can translate to that feeling. And then, AHHHH!!!! Kate Winslet… I’ll talk to him. “I WANT something from YOU.” FESTIVALS TWO WEEKS. Imagine? Turkey?

It’s a real drama, and Cruz such a good actress, so I can use these stills to give a feeling of how this gets to her head. She really wanted to kill my father, okay? Slice his — dick off, she doesn’t give a shit. THAT was the TONE of her NICENESS. AND THE THING IS — I don’t feel ANY problem from the audience….yeah, I understand. And I put on the first page of my Bible that law schools might actually use this film. “This is a temporary insanity plea.” That’s it, in a nutshell.

And you’re going to understand WHY she’s putting all this together, you understand, I think my mother’s BIOGRAPHY will explain it all. May it go down in history. You see, around there, I felt, yeah, put all those images…add some more. REALLY? Really. She was reaching for gold. Dr. J. You mean to tell me that a producer isn’t going to go — HER NAME IS DR. J? JOY? YEAH. A real villain, unfortunately. The path of the villain is real. Not to say that anyone is REALLY a villain, but seriously, just stop, there obviously are villains, in a sense. That’s her. She might have “tried,” and I can write that film once I gain more experience… you see. A woman who also throws ANGELITA over a cognitive edge, a, how could you lie about something like that…except based on what I went through, I have no idea what to say, okay? That’s first. Then, ANGELITA didn’t know what to do about how my mother handled me…just please. BUT I THOUGHT THIS BITCH ONLY CAME OVER LIKE TWICE?

So, in the real, was there some transitional period? This all happened ridiculously fast. And ANGELITA said I started living with her in a SNAP, just like that. I experienced it as overnight. I don’t know the real details. But she knows what my mother’s body looks like, for real, she knows how she throws herself on people, and she can’t quite deal…I was just a touch too young. And when I look at EIGHT NINE year olds…that is just NOT me. But that was me. But that’s the real. And all those sentiments exist. It’s practically a musical too. It’s musical, so. that was the other reason why I thought, oh, Heavenly Creatures is as well.

I can’t fully explain what I went through, but there seemed to be future out there that got me through that, so I hope that’s true, and every step I take…in regards to this film…the closer I feel, like maybe I’ll find my place in the world. That’s an unusual story, and it’s sort of amazing that I met Barbara Harris. Again, if I knew who she was, back then, I would have gone to her for help. That’s it. It’s right here in this hilarious family version of The Breakfast Club. With a baby who looks nothing like them.

We went through this together. You cannot tell me…okay? Call the cops, call foster care, yikes. Who wants to do that? People told me over the years no, partially due to what really happened AKA how I approached this, that it was SO unbelievable, so IMAGINE what it was like for HER. Not able to BELIEVE my mother. Barbara Harris HIGH FIVE. OKAY?

So, I thought, like, okay, well, you know how Heavenly Creatures is a blend of styles? Even playful? Well, it’s sort of like that, by nature of what really happened, and I can’t totally operate the composition in terms of — it was pretty heightened. Angelita is a big personality. You know what I mean? And those performances for my father were HIGH PITCHED. But so was my mother’s…and then, boom, JOSE, take us away, to the family dance party… the lambada being a passionate experience, but it’s the PG version, which is still funny. These kids, lol, it’s like a button. Suddenly, they’re born to dance, NICOLE at seven, the Lilith Fair child, okay, just able to move like that. Picture Julianne Moore, even, you see? Just so funny.

She’s 100% Brazilian. Not Mexican playing Brazilian, she’s Brazilian. So she’s dancing in her room, this is correct. It’s correct.

The music is great, nostalgic, but I have to figure out the through-line of it, probably, since the lambada is central, but there’s another Brazilian song that, I think, will be the end. It was Michele’s favorite. They were inspiring. I was four. I’m spent, wiped, and never felt better. Two more weeks. Thanks. St. Elmo’s Fire. Laughing, because well, he cheated on her, he almost killed him…for sleeping with his fiancee…she’s a drug addict…and Rob Lowe…in on the sax. The memories. “Us.”

In the MINI VAN.

I thought I had less than a week left, but thank God, thank God he didn’t tell me that. He said, let’s talk next Monday? About all this? It’s going to be so great, I've never be happier. But NO ONE can help you, in a sense, it’s really true, just watch things. Nostalgic, heart. That humor. Look at this poster lol.

There are seven people right there. Add one more. And that’s the family involved. That group. Big group. And one super cute baby. lol. who isn’t that cute. She doesn’t WANT THIS LANGUAGE. No one………

I know this situation, you see. I know it. It provides all sorts of opportunities.

Dr. J is so unreal, that’s interesting right there, she’s not naturalistic, and I can shape her. And the situation is dramatic enough that it’s ripe for comedy, just so many kids. Serious situation. Grandkids, too, already, as the eldest got married at 19. Cousins. Rum cakes being — ANGELITA dancing sexy— baked for the city of Los Angeles. JOSE running down the stairs. The girls snapping at ANGELITA who isn’t denying it…that she favors Jose. lol.

How could I not fall in love with them, do you know? I just mean as an ensemble, people pouring in for these lambada parties. And they did. To watch this family dance together…which they would…

With a sex goddess of a mother lol I wrote in my bible. A couple who really loves each other. She’s truly funny Angelita. “Pay attention,” turning up the dial on the stereo. We’re singing the love songs — with the appropriate passion for us, but to the outside eye, it’s a movie already. It’s so true. It’s already larger than life. “PAY ATTENTION!” A bull. She’s BULL when the power ballad comes on. Truly speaking, swaying in her bedroom. “The Power of Love” hit it big in this house.

This movie has all the right ingredients.

And I’m getting there…in terms of communicating a clean vision.

DAVID FOSTER. We haven’t seen the last of him…

So, too many ideas at once, I can tell, but WHOOSH. I put a section for the love songs. I didn’t know what to do with the “real story” of it. Should I make a section where I take you step by step? But then, I thought that’s what the structure section is for, but even I can feel the “UHHHHHHH” I read dramas everyday. I don’t need to know this. I’m not sure. I’ve been moving very fast. But that’s the right note. I look forward to talking to him…

Maybe I’ll put Barbara Harris in there, hoping someone might go, “oh,” yeah, I see. Heart. Not to say anything about anyone, I can’t quite explain it, but there’s something to say about her humor. An angle of it. The mystery in it. The psychological complexity of it. Right? Maybe pink. I can’t use the poster, but I just figured out how to use Photoshop at 4 AM last night. So I can photoshop a little now. At least remove things. I don’t know if I can take a break…like I’ll keep watching movies…maybe…moving on… not because I don’t want to wait for him…but because I want to…keep on clarifying my vision on my end. Looking at TONE and STYLE like HMMMM.

A group photo, not like that, but the feeling of it, the humor in it, it’s all right. Well, I mean, regardless, we’re friends? No? I’m not sure, you know, if my best friend slept with my fiancee — hm, I might need a minute. I just think it’s funny… he doesn’t respond…always…like I wrote him this email…”I NEED TO THINK THIS OUT,” no caps. Then, “sent you a bible,” and he’s right there.

Now, I can conceive of a great number of things. Like a piece with Dr. J. I can do that WITH a secret agent, or a federal agent, evidently, since, if DR. J calls me requesting visits, or she’s on her death bed or something, I do not know… I’m getting a federal agent just to rub it in. Since this escort got a bit testy with my former brother. And THIS man and I might fall in love so fast it’s ridiculous. DO DO DO, okay, problem averted. He has to carry a weapon. You see. I call him a different name every time I refer to him. Gary, Bob, Nick, Tom, Yom, Ulysses. SURE, I’m fine. DR. J. I saw all sorts of approaches once I was able to sit and think for three weeks. I could do something poetic. Yeah. But a family drama, I can do, I can do that.

Maybe I’ll put Barbara Harris in there. Just her. So, that’s basically it. Can’t you picture Barbara Harris at 4…playing me?

I’m quite excited. I feel like I can take a day. I’m not that pleased with my clown article, though, so I don’t know what to do there… just because it’s fine…it’s getting there… I just sent in another draft. I redid it, mostly, maybe the last one was better, he might tell me that, except it’s still not quite what I want it to be. So, anyway. Feeling quite good. I can watch more movies. I can find more references, I can simplify this…except Dr. J’s page. That must remain the same. Lol. Sorry, I’m imagining turning into a fool, insisting to this production office that THE PAGE MUST STAY THE SAME. Man, I really can’t wait to hug that female director, man, wow. I can’t wait to submit this. I keep on meditating on getting to the next step.

I’m off.

This is everything

I’m reading PAST LIVES by Celine Song — and this is the line of my life right now. Something about heartbreak is not just about losing something, I have to figure out the wording, but about sharing what you’ve gained too. This is Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile, though more about heartbreak, so yes, the scenes have to sort of around that, in a sense, since few things are happening at once right now. I was too young to feel heartbreak, I didn’t know what this was. You couldn’t hurt me. Sure, I suppose I had my moments, but not really. You couldn’t REALLY hurt me. Now, I know you can. I’m over here. Not making the same choices…with Death, lol, the oldest storyteller, I have storytelling GOALS. Places I want to get to.

Anyway, I’m sort of sitting today about to get to my bible, visually, not knowing what to watch. I watched the nostalgic movie of all nostalgic movies (Terms of Endearment, these movies aside) St. Elmo’s Fire. I watched that last night with that “do do do” theme song. This hilarious group of friends struggling with 22. And Barbara Harris says, “I could do a great 22,” not 34. In any case, I’m sitting on some sort of Heavenly Creatures and some heartfelt family portrait that’s funny because it’s the early 90s and everyone is in sports gear…with Angelita sometimes in American Apparel, basically, in jeans, a body suit, and kitten heels…her hair like feathers: the stork that snatched a baby back—quick with a face that knows it. “OH MY GOD.” We’re getting through this baby.

So I gotta push that button.

Heartbreak being somewhat the theme here around the lambada…so maybe the other songs, well, some of them work, I only have a couple, for the moment, but at least, thanks to Peter Jackson, I see movement sequences, fantasy sequences, this mother can dream of what she wants to do to him…and trust me, it was pretty dark. It was. And no one…is going to care that much…because everyone can understand, truly. So—she’s chill. But I can’t, in some senses, tell a story that’s about a bunch of things at once? But I’ll keep working my way through it.

The chandelier works. Even if you think about tears. Wet eyes. That’s the idea. Sparkle. With some of the Peter Jackson playfulness, humor, but different styles can co-exist. So I’ll take a turn around that “real fight” that she has with her mother (Heavenly Creatures) and turn it into the real…as if wakingg up from a dream…I don’t know quite how to put that, but it works. I can see that.

It’s like all those nostalgic movies for high school…sort of funny, too, since you have to fall in love with this family, it’s crucial, and you want to go these parties… you want to see this family as a kind of miracle. It’s just, wow, even when I think about Mary…she had to flee because Herod was killing babies, seriously, right? So that’s pretty intense. Intense beginnings there. Bloody. So we swerve and try our best, and this mother even hilariously got very very very upset. It got a little twisted, confusing, what the fuck, and we got through it. They are keeping Maria, and then, hear “7th heaven, do do do do….” the TV show.

So maybe I can juxtapose the feeling of family like a nostalgic thing, that makes you go, oh yeah, I remember that extraordinary idea…like wow, this is quite a story, and this is quite the situation. And based on my entire LIFE, people couldn’t relate to me, but then, I’ll do another movie more related to my experience, but I feel like “imagine this happened to your family…” is a bit easier to click into…like whoa. And these kids can fight — like call the cops, who gives a shit? Michele. Louise like, uh, and Jose um her guardian now? You know? You make connections, man, this baby has been here for four years — a real little kid now. A totally different human being… it goes without saying…and I thought that some family scene at the end…

St. Elmo’s Fire, look, he sleeps with everyone, and then, his best friend sleeps with his fiancee, and Rob Lowe has to save Demi Moore from drug use and depression…and in the end, they’re all friends, still, no? Walking with conviction — with heartfelt sentiments of the “journey we took together…” into the house… closing the door. “Do do…do do do do do do…” with the sexy sax being Angelita. Lol.

That’s basically it. So I’ll try to make a fun bible…

For the memories…

I don’t know if the average person behind a desk is going to understand Barbara Harris. Like, she was the heartfelt person, I don’t know quite how to put that, but she seemed to touch your heart, a bit, which is what made her funny? “Love is the key that opens every door,” Nichols cracking up. “Hilarious.” It’s the first thing she said. Because she couldn’t speak…and why? Confidence comes from belonging, all very touching. She was touching. I just don’t know what to point to exactly. So I’m going to leave the movie watching aside a moment to put together this “photo album” family scrap book of a family portrait. With some totally random girl…suddenly…

Anyway, got my clown piece in. And I was able to move my new job until next week. All good.

Heavenly Creatures — fun title.

Heavenly Creatures 1994 is useful, fun. There are musical sequences, outrageous stories being made up. It’s comedic and the characters are overly dramatic. Winslet’s mother seems to sleep with her clients. It’s based on a shocking crime, true story, and though mine isn’t about murder, the reality of it touches upon the ridiculous, even. Very dynamic as a composition. They make up fairytales, stories, which is what Nicole and Maria do, what everyone does. Miracle Mile is not about that relationship.

There’s a dark undertone. It’s somewhat making fun of the drama, too, as Winslet runs away through the mountains because her parents will be gone for a few weeks. She’s inconsolable. Winslet is a super super dramatic character, outlandish, so this could be Dr. J. Dream-like, even psychedelic, the dream becomes real. There are unicorns. A fairytale vibe. This is taken from her diary, I imagine. They have special powers — they can see “the fourth world.” There’s a danger present in totally living in the imagination.

Things start to turn. It starts getting bloody in this case… so maybe this is… reality coming in…the scary music when the priest starts going…is that when JOSE comes down the stairs…maybe Angelita has dream sequences as to what she wants to do to the father, it’s just, evidently, this is a real story about murder, I think, so it merits that kind of treatment. It’s not to suggest that my story is like that, but there’s a stylistic cohesiveness that I enjoy, the introduction of the color red. I love that she’s in a pink robe. I enjoy the color palette, also.

The camera work feels…”scary” at times. I don’t know how to describe that…but it’s dealing with the drama with a dramatic hand which makes it comedic. Dark comedy.

Around the section where Lynskey is having an unpleasant sexual encounter and escapes into fantasy, I thought this could be a good basis for a Dr. J pic, too. Or maybe she had a dark fantasy vibe, I mean, there are “dark” artists, nothing wrong with that. It’s a matter of context. Just direct that appropriately. I don’t know. But Dr. J was pure fantasy. It could be heartbreaking if she comes from a dark world.

And I can see Lord of the Rings coming, so I’m feeling a bit tearful, I wonder where I could go. With this castle. There’s a fascinating line of sorts between dream and fantasy…in a sense. This is cinematic…but if I say fairytale, this is what people are going to expect. So not necessarily the same thing. Right.

There’s a clear through line with Mario’s music. Opera. This is Dr. J land. Besides that, there’s a real presence of music in this house. Love songs. So dramatic. I love all those songs. MARIA can sit there to Through the Years…and have some hilarious fantasy sequence…looking at all this. Thinking about her “family video?” Looking into camera, sure.

The scene on the bus is super crisp, which I wanted, that meets psychedelic, perhaps, or some kind of otherworldly touches. Can I use real photos? There’s a photo of me at this age where the grass behind me is just slightly blurred, a fuzz.

So I don’t understand what “cinematic” means in The Stranger Thing bible, because…is this not cinematic? Maybe that means a film made for TV. I get that this is extremely clear? So I want to be as clear as I can in communicating vision, which is where I’m at now, the story and structure will adjust according to that.

I’ll think more about dream sequences…

Maybe there’s a bit of a symphonic vibe in the ensemble of this family…from Maria’s perspective…less that she wants to be a part of them. I wasn’t like that. There’s an artistic appreciation of the image, the theater of it. Well, I’m thinking about the relationships. Winslet is like her mother. These relationships make sense. And Dr. J is on the level of opera, it’s stunning, and MARIA maybe sees the reality in it. She sees that real life can be theatrical. That it can magically move…that the composition and timing can be exquisite. Comedy, the punchline. I was amazed. That’s basically it. At that age, I was taken with how many realities there were, in fact.

Nicole was SUCH a believer, I didn’t come from this world, so my experience of the games we were playing were much different. I was studying Dr. J. Bigger fish to fry. Studying “the mean man” regardless.

I’m going to watch a movie that changes perspective…

It’s about this strong mother — this family — I think that’s correct. But MARIA studies this. Obviously.

I could do it…shrugging, in the voice of Jodorowsky's Dune.

I came to on the stairs…one night… it was the pitch of Nicole’s scream. The clawing over one another…AHHHHHHHH. LAUGHTER AHHHHHH. “What am I doing?” I got up, walked downstairs. Was it an out-of-body experience? I seemed to have a couple of those… I just took in this picture. Of her standing at a wide open door with this “broken man” in the doorway. I sensed Dr. J’s past. Looking around. It was too dramatic, traumatic, too strange, to not pick up on a past. However, on TV, in another context, if it was some interest? Real life could mirror Dr. J’s fantasies in fascinating ways. I don’t know totally what the truth is.

I contemplated as far as I could at the time…maybe a VoiceOver…over this baby…would be funny… in some “German” accent, even. Something psychological. Was there a real “mean man” somewhere back there?

I didn’t understand this picture for another 30 years. I had no idea what to do with it. It was utterly unimaginable that my father would do such a thing. But then, as I started to awaken within this, all these years later, I heard unbelievable things. I was in this situation. From a certain perspective, wouldn’t someone logically assume that it might be true? Can’t the audience understand that…?

If YOU know in FACT what YOU are doing, and some woman is pushing that button, which she did, and you obey…right? It’s the dementia that…throws a monkey wrench into the whole scenario. Someone who cannot take action to that severe of a degree, look, I don’t know what to say about the two of them: my parents, except pity, to me at four, was my father’s main problem. I didn’t have this word until I was maybe 10, 12? I’m not entirely sure. Because he said weirdly that he let me run around in these other families as if I were having an affair…because he pitied me. It was then and there that I could identify what that was. So early. I used to think that there was NO connection to my parents at all whatsoever. Not true.

I began analyzing this from a couple of different directions. So did she. Now, in the psychological realm, you can understand the heartbreak, the fury, the game continuing, all that. Is it UNREAL? Dr. J. I was nine…the unreality of it made sense to me, you see, searching for clues through this real story for what might have happened to her. I began studying “themes” at nine. These are themes.

Putting myself in a situation, since this was the question, in which this was really happening — would such a figure always be easy to grasp? Believe? I walked a line with Dr. J since most would say, well, wasn’t she a pathological liar? But I was a child at the time. Yes, sure, she didn’t seem to know the difference, it’s not exactly soothing. And something like that is inherently a lie. That kind of abuse, no? Imagine. If incest, for example, is so psychologically damaging that one MUST voice something. And they not uncommonly point fingers elsewhere because there’s so much unconscious and indirect communication… going on…I can’t point at my family member.

I don’t know what to say about this girl in France, I really don’t, who recently confessed that she falsely accused a boy of raping her…since there was a discrepancy in her testimony. But still, the expert said it is actually common to point at the wrong person. Dr. J’s world was so casually dark…it’s hard to believe. I don’t know in what reality I am in. I see no limits, no consequences, and no boundaries. Also poverty. Unclean. Something unclean. It’s not to say that poor people are not clean, that’s not what I mean, it’s separate. Neglect of some kind. The mental health phrase, you see, doesn’t do a goddamn thing, you see, in taking into consideration what the REALITY was. Which is why I tend not to go there. Neglect, makes sense. Not to say that people don’t have…I can’t.

Anyway, to me, my mother’s genius could never beat psychology as a field. I will bring you down. That was basically the plan…though I did nothing with it.

But in this dreamlike vein, Nicole is either talking about astrology, the forces that keep us together, which I like, not sure yet, or OZ. We played exclusively Peter Pan and Wizard of Oz. Which are all belonging related. We became the characters with hilarious noises, we would switch people, play the lost boys. It was rather serious. I remember her siblings going…what? Since Nicole and I were a bit more imaginative in our leanings. Discussing the stars, too, in sparkly slippers. She wanted to get beamed up to Oz. We would twirl. So I see — not MARIA — I hear a VoiceOver, German, lol, having some kind of dream sequence… having moments where she is trying to understand her mother…does NICOLE really believe, back then? Yes.

I peeked, no? To study her belief.

So here comes their parents — talking about their relationship veering into the unhealthy. That wasn’t the case, though Angelica’s relationship to this might…or the situation itself is beginning to spin out of control.

But Pauline is always to blame.

She starts to imagine killing people. The close-up mouth: homosexuality. A condition. “It can strike at any time.” Opera.

Now picture Dr. J breathless, she cannot stand it, the sight, truly speaking, she’s never seen such a girl…Angelita’s daughter. There’s a drama on a heightened level. Why Nicole was made to stand beside me, maybe because they didn’t want me to go through this, I don’t know, like stand next to her…maybe this will…who knows? I’d love to see them both! Dr. J was crazy. But there’s — a true performance at play. No one believed it, but this is no longer my problem. Thank you.

And this movie has REAL — she fights with her mother, so I might be taking a turn into the real…and you can feel the difference.

They get out of the bathtub and they’re in a dark fantasy, taking their parent’s things to sell them, that’s the light hue for the father watching these shows, I think. I can’t totally remember what it was…with spotlight on this staircase, since I remember the light then. I just don’t remember light on..though I could see clearly.

“There’s something desperately exciting about bodies on stretchers.”

I like this movie a lot actually.

But I guess…here comes Brazilian music? And love songs? Ghost. It’s the love songs. And the slows…Jose the comic relief. He always was. I mean, I love these people too. Whoosh. I mean, that was complicated.

The diary entries, narration, is a strong structural thread. It holds it all together. I don’t have that. I have to laugh at the music. At this DRAMA. But it can get startlingly real. Sure. It can break down. Spin in another direction.

Then, they’re watching a movie, and a suddenly real moment happens from this fictitious reality, they start seeing things, also. So maybe Nicole and Maria can start responding to this situation in some capacity. The shadow man they can’t get away from. They start making love. There’s some kind of interplay between the fantasy and reality. Alright, so, they are in love with each other…and so, they are going to kill her mother.

Didn’t I hear about this? Isn’t this the woman who ends up becoming a writer, actually? A successful one too. Not sure. But I read a story about a female friendship just like that, she was going to move away…and they ended up killing a mother. Unbelievable no?

Sometimes, I’m not sure about the ending…in reality, she sent me home with my father…it’s just…when I got to that part some years ago…I heard “uh oh…” I didn’t get the feeling that it was…an “aw,” not in this case. And The Power of Love cued my exit to mirrors being smashed off the walls.

The music is really good…especially when they kill her.

So the love songs can underscore the action in some capacity…it can take an instrumental direction…overly sentimental.

I cannot even believe this. Killing the mother. I can’t watch. Wow. Just wow.

I don’t want to compare situations. It’s different.

Maybe I can dramatize Angelita’s inner thought process like “she hates her…” she can’t…stomach it. This whole situation twists in her mind. You can understand her thought process. If there’s child molestation involved, then wouldn’t this screw up — terrible. Could there be jealousy? Really? I just couldn’t, at that age. Thinking about her sister. Again, maybe this VoiceOver with me at that age…since, ahhhhh, this Brazilian mother told me later — I was jealous! AHHHHH. Scary. Her daughter was horrified! AHHHH. Please! I don’t understand, in a vague space. Mysterious. Sorry, I cannot be jealous of a girl’s horrified face. Of such disgusting behavior. But, she encouraged me to be. I said no. I do not come from your world. At nine, ten, whatever this was, that one rattled me quite deeply since I was investigating how we become who we are.

I look at Dr. J, for real sometimes, lady, what the hell was this? Someone asked if it was “blind guilt” in college, this scene where she totally ignores me. But then, I’m doing the same thing to my father. Ah, Dr. J Joker comes to mind now, riddle me this riddle me that. Was she guilty? UHHH, I don’t know.

I cannot grasp HOW I talked about this story…since I was the most communicative with my friend Nate who asked me the most questions. The whole thing was so messed up, in that, Angelita’s story, and maybe the camera can make us a little, uh, upside down, on purpose. Her story changed. The picture did not change…though Dr. J did. I’ll keep doing these treatments like sound spinning around her. The image of her turning to confront the blind spot is good, I think, because we have a world, a field of vision, and this is something “otherworldly.” So one might not SEE it. It happens a lot. My father does not change, specifically, but Dr. J is the biggest liar in the universe, it’s just that to the authorities — and? So she begins to feel horrible, the mother bounces, the money runs out.

I was the responsible one. That’s later. I was the ADULT. At nine. You see? How early we teach children? Plus, the weird part, right, since it has its range, is she told me jokingly to keep my legs closed on the dance floor at FIVE, not too sure about me. The joke is not the point. My mother was a joke. That’s the point. Think about WHY I was there. It’s less a critique, she was trying to be playful, I suppose, however, it deeply affected me because my mother was sexually unhinged…already destined to become her. When this son of a bitch, Alan, was fucking her, fuck love. Fuck sex. Go look at yourself.

This situation, for its own reasons, scared the LIVING shit out of me. Do I put that in? I’m just trying to be a vessel in a sense for the heart, no? She was asking for it. She was that severely sick. But there are sicknesses that aren’t seen as such, you see how this bends all out of shape? She wanted to be hit. I see you DR. J.

Jose is a pillar for me because it was wonderful, terrible, many things at once. The complex fabric of human relationships…

You can understand why I hung onto these parties tightly. “They saved me…” I bit Nicole, for the love of God, I used to look at her scar, since, they all know, I kept asking questions about what happened. “Did I really bite you?” I couldn’t forgive myself. I had a hard time opening up these years in terms of the emotional body. I had a way of talking about this………could sound weird. Saved me from what? Right? You can see how people could be confused about my interpretation…my father being this innocent man…my mother was crazy…

The decisions that this Brazilian mother made…I didn’t put that together…that my father did literally nothing. All of that sentiment was this woman’s influence. It scared me, it did, because why all this hatred toward me? Laughing my face, sure I laughed, as the wise screenwriter said: “it was hysterical,” he got the picture. That was totally confusing to work out, battling with my badness, I just didn’t realize it because I had repressed it that deeply. So on that note, he was right. Anyway, I enjoyed Lynskey and Winslet’s performances. This was fantasy, so maybe that will be a direction for me too in taking in The Oldest Storyteller…

That was really something.

I decided to reopen up this a few years ago, that’s it. I’m really going to do it, I’m going to write a book based on my childhood. Like who cares? People do. Something began to happen, wake up, and that was the beginning of The Oldest Storyteller. I’m just lost…in these pages…taking the same track…but finally, a voice — oh my God, the voice lol — wondered if maybe I wasn’t the biggest bitch that ever was. Who gives a SHIT if it was true or not? THAT’s the POINT. I was four. And it was a journey to get there. The truth.

When I heard that question, though, it was amazing what happened, I can’t exactly call it a hallucination. But I was writing…and all these characters from my life came rushing into a psychological space…to defend that belief. I felt like there were hooks on my body. Loud. UH, what is this? You can’t exactly shut that down. Sensations. I began to battle, become aware, of what I felt. Now, do you have to believe everything you hear, did I have to believe this? NOW I don’t. But I guess that belief system was very real. Didn’t want it to be, I don’t know. I tried very hard. I had to let it go. I just thought, later on, about a role for the oldest storyteller, Death, in that flash, where Death is going to assist in this awakening…that Maria gets some information that she can turn the wheel now. But she has to do it now. Which is what I felt. I thought that it was sophisticated.

Geez, if your whole life flashes before your eyes, I have to admit, glad I worked that out.

Then, my father was diagnosed with dementia. And didn’t tell anyone.

That’s another time. But I’ve been thinking about some of these filmmakers’ early work…and thinking…there’s a path. There’s a direction. Themes. Fantasy probably being one of them, in a sense. The imagination. I don’t know.

I’m going to let that one digest.

There’s a layer of humor over their theatrics. It’s a real bloody end.

Not the same story.

So I’ll think about the end.

Not to say that the family doesn’t fight to keep her. I don’t know what to do there…

Maybe text: Nick was diagnosed with Parkinson’s though it became Alzheimer’s and he didn’t tell anyone…it was just too confusing. What the hell happened here? Some text. I still don’t know. It’s not the most satisfying ending. Maybe a fantasy…maybe I can treat it as such…and she can briefly remember it as an adult…but I was lucky, people always told me that, because I didn’t go to foster care.

I’ll keep thinking about that end.

Thanks for reading. Maybe the Spanish subtitles work.

So I can point to Peter Jackson. Playful, right. I can watch some more. And I’ll keep going.

Happy Sunday from Portici: She Cried Real Tears! Maria!

I had a very upset Brazilian mother on my hands after Miracle Mile. So picture this lady in a wig and fancy clothes telling Angelita AKA Penelope Cruz — my husband is a child molester. I’m so sorry. I suppose the reality of Dr. J, how she really was is somewhat beside the point, she has to be an almost incomprehensible personality. Like, she’s SINCERE. As she is. And then, on the phone, you’re getting something else to take this mother on a real ride. A Joyride. You have no idea.

A beautiful day, and they keep getting more beautiful by the hour… I’m watching Tears of Endearment next and probably The Tree of Life, maybe Fear because a family gets into an insane situation, but evidently, Wahlberg is so attractive that — sure, I remember my friends in high school running to see that movie…who cares that he goes insane or that he tries to kill this family? None of my friends cared. He’s so hot. That was their response. I’m THERE for the WORK, pointing DOWN like the wise screenwriter does. That’s what he forcefully said to ME — I’m mentoring you as AN ARTIST. He didn’t give a SHIT about anything else. Hollywood harshness and I loved it too. I must admit. He’s not doing a GODDAMN thing for me — just get the fuck out. “See you tomorrow?” And I’d just show up. Would you like coffee? Just insert Barbara Harris, once again, as me. Coming into the equation at 38. And of course, MY GOAL is — HE calls ME. “Excuse me? Do you have a MOVIE coming out?” “AND? WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU CARE?” He’s going to remain silent. “Congratulations.”

Anyway, I don’t want to “overthink,” but then, I want to put something together that someone will want to make. I think style wise, I’m still searching for that, since, on the one hand, Angelita is so hilarious, wild, like Penelope Cruz but — throw the ball over the fence — and her legs are so spectacular, it makes her funnier. Her performance with my father — you see, I can’t totally judge — her “nice game,” since she really laid it on thick. "Ohhhhhhhhh, look who it is,” looking at me at four, five, God knows, “Nick…” and then, she’s laying the frosting. “It’s such a pleasure,” even, really, to receive this phone call. What can she do? For you…oh, and she’s pacing back and forth in this kitchen, she’s kicking her legs, acting super nice, oh, isn’t this, Italy and New Jersey, how nice, right. He’s trying to act like “the nice guy,” seriously speaking, and then, she would drop her performance, for me, a super physically talented lady if you think about her kids, and stick her finger in her mouth, and reassume her vertical physicality. It’s already a style. What are people going to say to that? And then, she stomps, the performance just mounts. “WHAT?” She MUST make sure she heard this man. “What did you say?” Not wanting to lose a word! “MARIA?” You should laugh out loud. “Where’s MARIA?” She laughs, just laughs, “don’t worry,” she means it, “she’s right here…” she reassures him under HER gaze, you know, she never lets her wander far… very safe. Well SURE, of course, oh my God, I’m so sorry, just so many kids around, and no one is, obviously, here she is…and she calls me over with a finger. And she already told me I was to play along…and she’s looking at me with a hilarious face of shock…as this man goes hello! Hi. I don’t remember if there was a how are you? GOOD. I might have said that, I really don’t know, but basically, he — in a “i’m talking to a kid voice”— “do you want to go to Italy and New Jersey with me…?” She’s shaking her head “no.” So, I say “no.” I’m five. What the hell do these places mean to me? Then, he reaches out “I love you Maria,” sentimental. So I begin to say it back, not really knowing what to say, and she grabs the phone — and thanks him profusely for calling all the way to the receiver, slams it down, nicely. And curses his existence in Portuguese.

What style is that?

Won’t the audience be somewhat shocked? To then, set up for a dance party? I imagine someone will be laughing. Party time. But that’s exactly what it was. So I suppose it’s also a comedy. It’s just not “Black,” sure, maybe he was, maybe he wasn’t, maybe she was, I have no idea, these were a couple of weirdos, and it’s just gonna get weirder. I think one of the things you’ll see is — a sitting back. Just because the situation isn’t going to make sense. He’s going over in such a fashion, now, watching some show being put on, and he can’t cross the threshold. Some LOOMING figure. He was diagnosed with a disease after this…his inability to admit it to himself, his inability to tell anyone, I don’t know what to say about that, but he was. HE got the door slammed in his face for years. Watching a show that was so blatantly a show, that was the point. Like, WTF is going on? And then, we keep partying? Maybe I’ll watch Parents, maybe I will watch a comedy horror. At least for style, JOSE LIEBERMAN running down the step BEN STILLER — who can convince us that he is Brazilian too, on the dance floor, especially, having a conversation with his mother about this? WHAT? Horror eyes. ARE YOU DOING? No? Or, do they all play this game? Kicking soccer balls, like he shows up to some extravaganza with puppets, you know? That’s what I mean…with something like that, I have license to make it even absurd. Like some dream. Something where she’s losing her mind, but she believes for 12,000 a month, how “generous,” I suppose at first, to protect her child, that this battered woman who’s crazy I don’t know because of it is just trying to leave this asshole. But it goes on too long. Spins out of control.

I think that’s clear. It’s just being able to zoom in on what the style is, JOSE or BEN STILLER able to exist in the range of it? Since he’s another lead, essentially, since he’s the one who had to deal with my fits, he’s been bit, he’s had to fly over ottomans, show us his pro skills, he’s had to deal with a wild kid. So of course, by the end, he's basically nodding, taking on “airs” of being a true parent here. He’s sort of clear to me as that Royal Tenenbaums character who has to hold a particular commitment to “the jeu,” like he hates Royal, he hates this situation, but he must also become #1. The way, it was so funny, since Jose was tuned into me, you see, he could “feel me.” Since I would hide for hours, the house was turned upside for hours…looking for me…to the point that Jose came home and threw his gear down — so no matter where I was, I heard it. He made noise. Slammed his feet. It was a high level of play. Thunder. So he throws his gear down at the open door while five women scream Jose! “She got out this time.” No, he says, no. In maybe 2 seconds, he could find me in less than 1 minute. They never understood it, it was really funny. There’s only so many places someone so small can hide. I usually hid in plain sight, smart move, like right under your nose. Not upstairs. Not under the bed. Lol. Clever. This — pulling me out. But it would be a tiny Godzilla coming awake. I’m not going to totally always say that, but that’s the impression I got from them. Even if they thought I was cute, too, eventually, I don’t know what to say. It was all good until people told me what to do. And sure, I would rebel, I was completely confused. No offense.

So I think if I put that character from Royal Tenenbaums in, as a style within that, that makes sense. It’s just that, the father feels like a different world. Everything spun out of control. So it gets REAL. It is. Already. Can this co-exist? Or should I just just make JOSE JOSE. Not play style. It’s already physically dramatic, kids constantly playing sports, um, big bodies, all that, so maybe I should do it straight. Not to say there isn’t something comedic about all this, but maybe it’s drama. I like, sometimes, the idea of pushing a comedic genre of some kind, I mean Hitchcock probably would. With reality coming in - the father - who’s there - but he just isn’t present because of his job, and the thing is, the second he would step into the house, yeah, everyone would change. He commanded immense respect. He was a figure that all these kids adored. An untouchable person. So that was true. Suddenly there’s the Von Trapp children. Their devotion to one another was the most touching… thinking about Immensity with Cruz with the classical music, thinking about Spielberg watching “the movie” of them… so maybe I have to change the beginning slightly to give that impression right away. So it’s a touch more “aw, Maria…she doesn’t come from this…” and this family party might come sooner? I don’t know…I might just have to restructure this so you feel how inspiring they are. He’s a good father.

He ends up blowing at me because I refused — an Italian — to eat with my elbows off the table, you see, to my Neapolitan cousins, they were SHOCKED that anyone would ever say that to an Italian. They were pissed for me, my revolting was simply Neapolitan, which is a cultural trait. So funny. YES, they were even lost, upset, that I was so fundamentally misunderstood. They were heart-warmed by my displays. Well, yeah, well, if you go up against a Neapolitan…this is…this is what you’re going to get. And yes, it’s going to get worse. Si, they could track it. You cannot tell a Neapolitan to eat with their elbows off the table. It’s deeper than they are, it’s in the blood: REVOLT. That’s all my cousins are going to see. Rooting for me. They’re probably not even going to get upset, probably just act like I’m cute, and it will work itself out. Who gives a shit? About these words? They hated these words as much as I did: thank you, please, sorry. Gross.

Through the Years!

But I thought maybe a nostalgic vibe was right. Heartwarming. We might since…I remember that the lights were turned off…when my father would arrive…the door was wide open, I can’t describe the light, once the lights were on on the stairs, since Nicole and I were screaming laughing, we had to make noise. But I remember this being somewhat dark, so that’s why the comedy horror around Jose comes to the forefront there. I just don’t quite know how to be with all these styles, if that works, or there might be SECTIONS. That’s a particular section, or there’s something a tad more dream like that I could follow where that’s a bit scary…but like, I suppose it surrounds this mother…it’s just these family parties are heartwarming, funny, so family…beautiful. I just need to figure that…since that’s a style question. Heartbreaking, hilarious, so real, I don’t know. I suppose Tim Burton could direct this? I’m trying to think who — lol in my dreams — would direct this. A variety of people could. So I’ll watch Lynch’s comedy…but it gets realer, I don’t know quite how to put that. There’s a reality a comedic reality that they just “got a kid,” in some monologue debut from Royal Tenenbaums, no? MARIA’s mother manipulated the Tenenbaums…picture this introduction. With Ben Stiller opening the door to this “looming” figure. There’s a container for that, I just can’t totally go there yet, or I don’t know what that would mean…? As a picture.

But watching it, here’s a mother, seriously, picturing myself in the audience, which I want to picture, I want to look behind me as see the Obamas…just like, huh? She’s going to diffuse instructions… to kids. Little kids. The house is yours. She wants screaming, laughing, and Cruise is going to go, what would he say? Truly. She’s getting INTO it. Throw pillows. But real. Then, knock knock, since you want to see that scene, and then, the door opens… the house darkened, I can’t totally explain that, maybe because I felt like I was in the dark, I don’t know, but it was a particular light, on the darker side, I think. But we’re RUNNING and screaming and we’re not being loud enough. He just stands there. There’s a strong FRONT coming at him. Like we’re playing so hard, and I have to ignore him like this. She’s loving it, waving to us as we pass, loving children running crazy, wild, free. Is the audience going to be shocked? Is there “symphonic music…?” I’m sorry, it’s just hard for me not to get ridiculous, just what is this? And then, she closes the door in his face. Literally. And we give each other high fives. I get that the audience is definitely watching, it’s intriguing, but do I treat this as a drama…? With this mother increasingly losing her mind, that scene when she tells him…his wife lied, in reality, she was so hazy, confused, looking for a way out…that she’s convinced herself. Personally, I just have no idea what to say.

I go like, come on, I have no idea what that experience was that I went through recently, but then, what do I do with that? That took me YEARS. Dreams. Sensationally, that’s what I was struggling with. Jesus, that was a LIE…my whole life…but as this continues…and they bring it to a head…it’s going to get disturbing. And, shrugging, it always was. NO offense to my parents, excuse me. I see this picture surrounding a VERY strong female lead where she’s going to sort of lose her mind with a very strong male lead and they’re going to have to with these kids hold it together. I feel that HEART wrenching feeling. Where I want them to bring social services to this house, like fuck you and your RULES. I don’t know how this goes. Just because, I took the cops into my house — they’re finding probably booze, pills, maybe a lover on the entry, some totally strange father. You see, drama is sort of interesting, you insert a character and you see what they do…and the authorities coming in…I have absolutely no idea what this man would have done. I picture the cops being totally taken aback. Would they have found my mother was engaged in criminal activity? MAYBE. I don’t know. There’s nothing in the fridge? And this speech from Dr. J, a totally crazy lady, she doesn’t like to eat, well MA’AM? What do you mean? SHE doesn’t LIKE to EAT?! She put alcohol — which at FOUR, I didn’t stutter bitch — in like the one thing she ever made me. A little for the flavor, lol, and in the fabulous, wild, jewel thief version of Dr. J, that’s definitely in. That’s what she said. “Only a little for the flavor.” It was soufflés, ossobuco, only the best…for her baby. She wined and dined me, you silly goon. Hysterical.

But in this one, which is real, only because I think that’s a tad bit easier based on where I’m at. Fun scenes too. Where a couple of strong actors have to keep their family together, maybe sports stars, look, ANTHONY diffuses the INSTRUCTIONS. We’re getting MARIA the hell out of there! They pull up…here we go, I’m veering into a comedic style. But like, Angelita just dropped me off, right? I had a rough day. With this escort. NO OFFENSE. I ended up running away. Then, I called this family, Angelita had to pick me up. I probably screamed into the phone. I didn’t have a bed, I didn’t have the facilities to understand that, but come on. So I thought, I could do that, or that could be a moment where they come and get me…I have to work out these details. I could change my father figure to maybe attack Anthony, or try, lol, Angelita isn’t the type that’s going to hang back either…none of these kids would. They are — diffusing their skills. I assure you. These are professional athletes. So if you fuck with one of them, they WILL engage. That’s this family. It’s true.

It’s the type of story that’s already dramatic enough, like I don’t totally feel right about that, except that they come to get me, and I ran away, and JOSE — is asking them to tell him EVERYTHING that exists in the general vicinity, if he hears POLICE, Sheriff, he’s going STRAIGHT there. She’s sort of stupid! Hotheaded. But everyone in this family…is. Not everyone, but it’s understandable. She’s one of them…he’s seeing the shopping center — pointing! And they’re turning. And JOSE knows she’s between the cars, so he’s flying down the line. But I don’t know if that’s dramatic. It’s more for me to play…now that I can.

It’s already enough. That they find themselves in a situation that they’re going to have to handle. It’s a bit of a crack up. Maybe the heartwarming button is the one to push. I mean, in my opinion, that’s a temporary insanity plea. For real. This figure, my father’s behavior, my mother, a very small child, she…was protecting me until this woman left her husband for sordid reasons. So, based on his behavior, everyone is terrified of this figure, I can understand how that would be inebriating. And then, maybe I’ll do the thriller pic — MOM STRIKES BACK. Maybe the wise screenwriter would be proud of me. MOM STRIKES BACK. The killer Mom. Just some thriller about Mom’s taking the “destroy the child molester” game to bloody levels. Bloodbath. “Nice try.” There’s something satisfying about it. Even. Like, I think everyone would understand. You just want to KILL that person. So I got the feeling — total comprehension. Not like she’s taking the law into her own hands, in this case, but no one — literally — is going to tell…anyone that it’s not a temporary insanity plea. Okay? Like, it’s going to be okay, Ma’am.

I’ll keep finding the style of that one.

But I like ensemble, I like tight like Dog Day Afternoon, i’ll look at that one, something theatrical. I like the darkness around the house, or house becomes mysterious, and maybe at times, you do crack up, but I can’t help that the lambada parties were happening, and you want…to go to this party…so maybe there’s some kind of journey in style…or there’s, a movie I found that blends styles. Anyway, gotta watch movies! PETER JACKSON WINSLET. Heavenly Creatures 1994. YOUR MOM. Adam Sandler….? He has appeared in my framework of thinking.

Immensita

I enjoyed Immensita, I just watched it because there’s a strong female lead and a child who also feels like a lead though he identifies as a boy. And it’s always a pleasure to see Penelope Cruz. Who doesn’t want to see her? And ain’t it the truth, sometimes I am more worried about the fantasies of adults. This is me in Miracle Mile.

I liked the color palette as well, but it’s Rome, and it’s the 70s. There was a theatricality I suppose to some of these shots, they have singing sections…I love them dancing and singing in the beginning. This Brazilian mother was always dancing. I liked the church that turned into a dance party…thinking about these family dance parties…coming out of Shabbat.

There isn’t an inciting incident. There are problems at home that build…she burns half the house down…and they go pick her up. The gypsies have been cleared out…so the boy goes running to find her…gone. It’s a slice of a moment. It opens with the child who identifies as a boy, he sits with the other kids, and then, there she is— Cruz. And they’re dancing, setting up for dinner. So I go, there’s a family that does that.

Right now, it’s like I’m smashing barbie heads together, and she’s already in this world, and she’s coming to get me. But the musical number continues…this is a way of life for her. And it just so happens…I bust into her house. Before she can even stop the car. There’s a dramatic scene. A four year old “getaway.” I end up under a plum tree staking my ground. And from there, I think I go straight to ding dong. Dr. J. Only because she can operate like that. She might have called.

Angelita, the Brazilian mother, snapped in my face —I started living with her like that. In a snap. Meaning, I slept there that night. Dr. J didn’t even ask for this woman’s number, address…she had to suggest it. “Don’t you want my number?” “OKAY.” Instead of calling, in this case, I thought, bring Dr. J up, something other, sudden. These are all her character traits. She has this scene. Sure, she can stay the night…for that money…sure. I mean…okay. Louise is there, so she hilariously tells this to Louise — for whatever reason. So many kids around. I’m misbehaving, so this problem is kicking off. That night, bath time.

Maria is in the dark about this strange bathtime activity except most might go — she might be uncomfortable because she’s not home, but you might be, as an audience, unclear as to what is going on…Nicole and Maria have a discussion about astrology, look, Nicole understands Maria as a Sagittarius. She was really like this. Or, we’re talking about Oz. I don’t know exactly yet. Normal, this mother dresses….them…? For bed? Did this…happen? For Maria? My real life really confuses me. Nothing but questions there. I remember I started having sitters. She got sitters. At night. She liked to go out. Anyway, for the purposes of this, that’s the next step. And Nicole takes Maria in, you can see the bond that way. Then, her husband comes home since their love affair has to be even inspiring. The house is asleep.

I found her to be so refreshing. Just her sexual freedom. It made me laugh, it really did, just how much she loved LOVE. It was LOVE 24/7. Very fun, very sexy, a sensual woman. Always dancing in her room. So, I appreciated this movie, because of the dance sequences…some of these shots.

It’s not the right period, but who cares?

This is a drama.

A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints is a drama. It’s not that. It’s that remembering these four years…where do I go? Dr. J being sick is probably a lie. I can invent some normal version of her…our conversations, I’m telling you, were about how she’s a genius, what parts of me are like her, and how I was “Mama’s star,” you see? She never asked me a question. Not once. Not in my entire life. “How arereeeeeee you? AH!” If I said, sort of, um, on the phone, I’m good. AHHHHH. Mama’s star. It doesn’t matter what I said. This was a person so far from normal. “Far from Normal.” So sure, I could write anything. You see, I could say, “bitch I don’t know you,” and she’s going to say something “for MAMA, you’re everything…” the last time I saw her…she didn’t really say anything. Except when I asked her about “the working for the government” comment? That her escort made. Why are you even here? Do I know you? That’s my attitude now. About this escort. Like I give a shit about his agenda. Like I give a shit about making a scene, you understand. Get away from my mother. Where did you come from? How do you even know each other? I’m a different person. But that’s in the real. She said he’s living a double life blah blah blah. I don’t even have the time. A secret spy. Looking for Osama Bin Laden “in the mountains.” So, going home to confront Dr. J is practically a comedy. She’s saying anything. Again, I don’t really care, in the sense that, if someone has an idea like — I think this might be a strong place to start for you. But he didn’t say that. He just offered that as a structure. You could go home. She’s sick. Calling for me. Since that’s relatable. That was already a stretch. Well, if I go home, I’m in a different family now. Not that I have to go there. That’s the degree to which I do not know this person. I have to stay with my mom now. Or, get a hotel. I ain’t staying with Dr. J, I’ve never been invited. I slept over there once in my whole life. Her place. I was there a few times. Maybe four. Maybe that’s pushing it. Why would I go — because she’s on her deathbed? And? Is this supposed to AFFECT me? I told her I was in the hospital. I didn’t even get a goddamn phone call. So? This woman doesn’t care if I’m alive or dead.

I can go there, as I said, invent a completely fictional existence. I’m open, in love with this exercise. So, okay, “you can stay with us,” it’s not happening. I would never stay with them. Ever. Ain’t staying with “people” who think they are spies. Then, I’m walking into…some environment…and? So going home…the thing is, if I had someone to talk to, I would be open to doing almost anything. It’s not to shut down any idea. Right? You end staring into the waves…you have some scene…but this woman, this person, treated me as if — in the words of my cousins — I was basically less than ZERO. So again, I get a phone call? I’m not sure if I’m going. Maybe… this is a karmic decision. Sure, Dr. J, what would you like to say…probably I would take the spiritual route. She’s a soul. Not my mother. Though she is. I would say prayers. I would probably handle that in a particular way. If she were really on her deathbed. If she was sick…her wanting to see me is…utterly strange. “So you want…” regardless “through the field of ‘surrealism’ because that’s what she is…”through the incomprehensible…you feel guilty. You want to make amends somehow. There’s nothing to amend. You want to get to know me now?” She never did. "So sure, I can go there. I suppose I could do some version of that…a Forrest Gump, again, I’m so so open, or that. I can problem solve.

Okay, so I’m going home. Here I am. No, I would never accept a ride from her escort. These lines would be so strict, it’s stupid. Just give me the address. I will be coming with someone. You see. I ain’t going alone. My rules. So, then, I have a supporting role. Who would I call? Probably Nicole. These are weird people. No offense. Either that or someone with combat experience. I don’t even care, I’ll get someone who looks intimidating — just to send a message. I don’t trust you. That’s it. Funny. It’s not happening. So that could work. We can “get there,” sure, I suppose, we just never were there. Now, I got that. If you want me to use my actual personhood. I’m going to find someone. Now, since she’s never without her escort, I’m never without — hey, what’s your name? Even if I know it I’m asking, blatantly. X? Oh, I thought it was Fred. Daren. I keep on keeping him different names. You see? I’m throwing her cards. Spies.

“I’m so sorry…”

“Okay…”

“For what?”

Could be good.

I have to write that scene.

“Yes Jeff?”

But yes, I see a version of that one too now.

I might not feel comfortable being alone with you. I ain’t sugarcoating it. BLAH BLAH BLAH if I get ANY crap — it’s GORDON, Victor, Sam, blah blah blah. Who even are you? You see this type of conversation would be — what happened? Did you go through some transformation of self Dr. J? What even happened to you? I think I would be more interested in that. In her childhood. Where did you come from? I would go for that. Her life story. Her psychology fascinated me. Her protector…her genius, what is it? So, when you said x, y, z, what was that about? Was there a child molester in your childhood? Was it dark? I’m someone with a tremendous heart. So there’s a version of that. I can go there.

I probably wouldn’t say anything to anyone. Like people I know. I would probably tell no one. I would think about Harry, Jeff, this person I just keep calling by different names would be great in its own way, some unusual request. I suppose I would need to have some emotional moment, but that’s asking my character for A LOT. At the age I am at? 38. He said, make it in your 40s. But maybe “this person” might end up being a love interest, yeah, or someone who’s like — okay, so step one, funny, most people, um, emote, or have feelings…about this…? But it’s been a long time. I hardly knew this person. Truly. I went through that part. I can see that being compelling. Seeing my friends in town, too, something. No one asks me anything about my parents, because my father is dead, and they ask me about my adopted family. I would tell my Big Sister of America. I could assemble a supporting cast. I wouldn’t even tell my sister because she came from a totally fucked up family, so I’m not painting over her. It’s not happening. That’s a strict no. That’s just dinner, fun time. She could find out in another way, get mad, I could envision that too. Like she catches us — WHAT? That would shock her.

I can go there. Now I can. Something.

Maybe there’s some peace I find in that exchange.

Some wisdom. Something. I can put that hat on. In many ways. It’s really true.

“Far from Normal.” Far from Strange. I see that by the beach, for whatever reason. Something pretty. Some golden hour. Some particular light. Something. I see that as something maybe — she has some story to tell…she’s possibly twisted, since that’s how she appears, someone who might have been — I can’t imagine what her upbringing was like…it was always like that. She’s a human being, first, that’s more or less always been a true north. Was he a child molester? Were you? Did you give me drugs? Or was that just fear? You see.

I could see her inventing, not inventing, not knowing the difference, me employing techniques to unveil her. She was the chastest woman, for example, like unnecessarily so, like she’s never even had sex, and it’s not like I asked, but I simply suggested something about things being hard back there, or that she had a hard time back there… and based on what she said, I said — something. And this conversation veered into a place that struck me because it’s like, um, there’s nothing wrong with sex. Like, you don’t need to put on some act like you never had sex, basically, except once. That’s basically what you’re telling me. I get that “normal” people just pull away because it’s so weird, I get it, it hurts. But I’m not like that. Sex is totally fine. It’s the fact that she was so blatantly the opposite that concerned me. This talk. So, I would say, in your family, there were no boundaries, no consequences. Am I correct? Just because that was a VERY particular case. I got the Catholicism? It would be hard to believe that she would be totally out of delusion. EVEN I, me, I had to deal with delusion. I would go in, sure, but to really do my mother in one way or another, that’s a specific thing, if you want to make that artful, compelling, which she has the ingredients to be. So yeah, I can try that. I might not know for references, but I could picture some hilarious supporting role…someone I almost befriend on the spot. Who keeps going on the ride because it’s riveting. These conversations.

Now, the me going home for Dr. J in some serious way…I can see.

The fantastic Dr. J can still exist somewhere. Someone deliciously irreverent.

So now what? That would be for the supporting role.

Even her being in a mental institution. I get wind of that, I might go. I’m going to be interested in bringing her back. In some capacity. She’s going to be utterly delusional, it’s going to be a process. I can picture that too. She really did fascinate me. I would dismiss the escort faster than he could walk. I always wanted her to get help, obviously, and it was like, she had some kind of super strong belief system. I didn’t need to be there. She had a relationship, it seems, with someone who didn’t need to be there. She talks, I don’t know now, as if we have a relationship. On and on. Judy, this woman I spoke to in college, her secretary, was so dumbfounded when I told her I didn’t sing opera that she couldn’t speak. Total silence. I did not fill it. So, through the, “oh no, for mama, star,” there would be a strong layer, strong, that would be what I would expect. I would not resist. I would let that play out. I would probably not say much. I would observe her. She’s a case. But then, she works? She’s a coward. So maybe she’s gotta reach for courage. Sure. In a sense, she always acted as if nothing was real, which, um, if she asked a question, beyond “how are yoouuu…” Everything is — ah, nothing much beyond that. Now, I would just talk normally…right? I’m not afraid, fascinated, all this crap. I’m the one who called, when I did, not the other way around.

It seemed like she came from a real insane house or had some kind of psychological problem, some — well, I’m going boundaries, consequences, limits. Before ANY of that. 12 people in one room? That was her house? Her mother seemed to be crazy? This was a family problem? You were shipped off? You see, anything real might cause her to recede, avoid, it might be an interesting role — based on her behavior, I can’t exactly tell if she had suffered some kind of abuse, or there’s just no structure. No focus. But then, she had this…job…she still works. I don’t know what she does. But she worked…so that’s why I thought, maybe she has some kind of super tight focus in one area. Sort of a savant. Show me what you can do. I’m interested in her. In a sense. Or, tell me Dr. J, who put you down so extremely? When you say no one since this is almost someone in the pathos department, someone who was “pathetic,” so based on her operation, why are you accosting the priest with your rapes right before he’s going to process for mass? Is that…true? Or is this just a game? Like that.

I can make that…a variety of things…but, do I tell him…the producer? I can begin to conceive of a piece about me going home… at least, conceptually. I can get a coke, tray, right? Not even do the whole set-up to get there. Some cafeteria in some spiritual hospital, I don’t know, on the beach. It doesn’t have to be real…Space can change. Maybe it does for her. Is it fluid, Dr. J? Something less real. Or expected. Maybe it was just a dream. I would do scenes of finding this supporting role, in some capacity, and maybe skip to the ride over…go from there. I can make that a couple of things. I guess my boyfriend could go…I guess I could call my old trainer. That could be funny too, she’s a woman. Just someone who could beat you up, if necessary. And maybe that might be necessary, some super-trained person who just shuts it down. It’s okay, woooo, arms swinging.

“The spies.”

Maybe a spy.

Maybe I go to Washington lol make an unusual request. “Look,” in Jerry Maguire way, I need a spy. For old time’s sake. I need a spy to come with me. “What do you do?”

“I work for the government.”

“What do you do… for the government,” they might ask.

“I’m a federal agent.”

And I will smile. “Thank you Winston.”

It’s not that I think her escort is a trained agent, it’s that — regardless — I don’t want to play games. In that, I’m going to probably go overboard in taking you seriously, as a point. I ain’t beating around the bush. Pretending these things haven’t be said. I’m a bit biting like that. All things considered. And the last time, this escort got testy with my former brother. I understand he was “looking at you.” But you threatened to hit him. And probably this person is going to look to you…based on how this normally goes. So if THAT’s a problem. “Sure,” things got heated, barely. All because…I stopped by to “have a talk” to talk with my mother, you know, the one — right? I ticked her off last time, he said, that was really something, all things considered. So now, I’m not 26, 27, however old I was, somewhere around there. Where “why” was the grand question it took me so long to get to — I’m getting up, and literally throwing you. Telling Tom, always a different name — to throw him against the wall. Are you licensed to practice in the state of California? I would slap you. Ticked her off. Madman.

Isn’t that right Ulysses?

So, now, for whatever reason, don’t have to explain it, I’m home in front of a mother I never knew with some supporting role and he can’t help it FRED, how many names…I’m calling him…and you know, on some spiritual level, if it was one of those, I would probably be able to have a final conversation with her…in some poetic pocket of the universe. I could. Even in another scenario all together.

Do I say that? If you want me to do a “go home to Dr. “ movie J in some capacity, I can do that now with some hilarious role. Just say you’re a federal agent, who cares? With these people? Who knows, maybe this person and I fall in love so immediately it’s ridiculous.

I would use this supporting character, I guess, to catch you up…I could do a Costner opening in Field of Dreams where — so, this has been…the five times I’ve seen Dr. J. “By the time I was 2…” Or I’d reveal that through the movie with this supporting lead. Pumping iron sometimes. Taking cold baths. You know. Getting healthy LA grub. Making me get back into physical exercise. He’s learning as we go. I’ll think about other supporting roles. Like my sister? What? He’s going to say. Oh?

I gotta go to bed. I’ll think about some kind of going home to Dr. J.

GARY. “Listen, JOE.”

I can still do family drama. I’m practically there. I have to rework these sections. I have to figure out the visual style but the menorah and lambada page will always be…very close to my heart.

I took Friday afternoon and today to just “be,” because I have to finish this bible, and maybe a week will be totally fine, 6 days. I’ll take the ride with this family…I wish I had more time, but maybe it’s better this way, but conceiving in this way is a bit easier for me, thus far. But then, I guess I could take any of these ideas for a ride. So, maybe I will.

Anyway, it’s late, and I’m going to bed.

Everything is going to be okay...on the Field of Dreams...

I’ve had the ride of my life over these past three weeks. I’ve had the best time. I was THRUST in a direction…imagine Spielberg, a boy, coming out of The Fabelman’s in the end… the railing. But it’s me, at 38, in TURKEY, with one month to produce a movie idea…my head moving through the fact that I am just Maria Mocerino…having hardly ever watched a film…but that’s a whole story, as to why, though that’s what I wanted to do since I was a kid, in a sense…nothing is impossible. Also that. So for all of us who love the “talk to it as if it’s already happened,” it’s the future that writes the past, the probable future I’m spinning up IS: ONE MONTH, ONE DESIRE, AS FAR AS IT CAN GO. So I go RUNNING, bump into Brad Pitt, no time, I must produce a movie bible. I’d love to write a script. I studied that. I wasn’t playing around?

So I produced a shitty first draft. It’s like anything else. I don’t care about that, that’s sort of built in the architecture, in a sense, a worldly perspective, in fact, but you don’t get stuck there. That’s in fact a first real step. I watched Field of Dreams last night, of course. The Costner does it again. He feels it. He does. James Earl JONES is in it. JAMES EARL JONES was JAMES EARL JONES at the TIME Barbara Harris was coming up, and she appreciates this. Me pointing to JAMES EARL JONES.

At first, I was thinking, it’s utterly amazing, who cares about sense? Imagine telling your friends about “your movie idea.” Some guy hears a voice — OMG THE VOICE! — so he listens to voices who tell him to plow a baseball field, which is kinda what happened, meaning someone INVENTED the game. GHOSTS appear…to play baseball. It’s one of the true classics. Sports, a. B, it’s everything. It’s a poetic environment. JAMES EARL JONES is on the field of DREAMS, of course he is. I needed a dose of inspiration. I needed to pop out into this other world…where the drive is almost spiritual. It’s an amazing picture, I think. With ghosts. Costner IS psychic. We are all PSYCHIC, for the love of God. And he picks up the doctor as a boy, we don’t know, because the whole thing is about the field of dreams. We’re all on it. Newsflash.

So the BOY gets in. Then, the girl has an accident after having a premonition. That boy crosses the line. There is a rule. Who cares about the SPECIFICS? He becomes the doctor to help the girl. He crosses over. Who knows? And in the end, in their SLEEP, THERE’S A LA AMOUNT OF CARS IN A LINE TO PARK AT HIS HOUSE. With money. You see? FOR LITERALLY NO REASON. To watch an invention. To believe in the possibilities again. That’s the movie.

That helped. I woke up today. Why do I feel so weird about sharing a SHITTY bible on a blog that no one reads? I laughed so hard. I doubt the producer even cares. You know? To me, it’s thrilling, Barbara Harris somehow here on the FIELD OF DREAMS. That logic operates a little differently, so you can’t watch that film without being in the same headspace.

So, maybe I was someone a bit more like that. Since it exists regardless. She has a dream about Costner watching this game with James Earl Jones, and so does he, so holy shit — you gotta go. And against that railing, about to lose it in a deliciously KEATON way, I am going to LEAP over BRAD PITT — and snatch the tail end of that MOVIE that makes it all the way and just RIDE it, picking up Ed Norton who will somehow teach me how. Spielberg, Tarantino, Lynch — puzzled by the story itself — I’ve never had more fun. I think my life is one thing, but I’ve probably always wanted to get here: this feeling. The took me my whole life thus far. So since we are all psychic, Spielberg helped me make sense of the Field of Dreams. My own head. “TV SHOW, FILM,” Tarantino too, “MUSIC VIDEO.” Spin around Kate Winslet. Next. Wahlberg said — GENRE. Look at genre. Dave Chappelle and I laughed all the way. Who cares? It’s just one movie, which I know, and then I meditated on some careers, I mean, come on. Everyone says “WHO CARES HOW OLD YOU ARE?”

So got some basics cleared up. Spielberg says, “look, when you say cinematic,” just because I don’t have the vocabulary to properly communicate what I see. “That is what you mean by FAIRYTALE,” visually. That’s all. Which MEANS emotional cinematography. Okay. Benedict Cumberbatch tosses me a rapier: figure out the rest later. I don’t know what everything means. Can’t get caught up there.

So this morning, I asked myself, what do I do?

It’s a family drama. It’s a drama. I guess it has a psychological something to it, so I had to keep separating the real one with this one that’s gotten me here. I’ve done the most work on it, and though the other ideas I had might even be better, I don’t know, I have to trust that “anything is possible,” that my inner guidance up to this point is correct. That a family picture of some kind is something I can do well, that will make it to the next step. No? There’s nothing but years ahead of me…in terms of all the stories I could come up with… that’s the infinite possibilities.

There are, it seems, FALSE friends, BAD guidance, twists and turns, I mean, everything, right? People who tell you, no, not possible, you are THIS, THAT, it’s SO COMMON IT’S STUPID. In terms of what you come up against, maybe that’s a perspective, I don’t know, since “those moments” don’t matter anymore. I’m here.

I wrote the producer on a Saturday. I needed to think out loud. He probably hasn’t even read anything yet. I just thought it out, said that, unless you tell my otherwise, I’m going family drama.

This has literally been — I WILL become a FILMMAKER in a month…no clue how to work with images. I’m laughing. That’s not true, but I have hardly even watched films… because I had to get over that. And I’m having the best time with that. The Fabelman’s was really fun because of the world of of cinema coming through in the end.

I feel that HOOK, like, people want to believe that anything is possible, people want that. Someone who becomes. Who finds out what they're capable of, it’s so classic.

And all I did was cry, break down, in ISTANBUL because maybe that’s what I wanted to do, and I was 38. Something in the field of drama. Thirty years later. I felt TIME bend for Christssake. I was 9-10, the year my father was diagnosed. I planned my whole life around these two life-changing events. We will discuss all this and more.

So, I went out, saw a wine bar, checked the prices, and laughed a little. I haven’t had a glass of wine in some time, so I’ll come back. Another time. Up the street. I already had a cocktail, too. I thought, I’ll go back. Then, some female director turned around. Had a feeling. Brought me into a production house the next day. He was busy for months, and then, I got one month. I spent the first week coming up with ideas…I got that in 10 days. But really 7. That weekend I watched a couple of movies, had to get a BATHTUB to do so, skipped down the street, dancing. I drove that week. AND moved. THEN, I spent the next week, because this producer went away, producing a bible clutching onto Montauk. LYNCH! So clear. Then, got that out. Published that shit. Nina lol. Laughed more than anything else. Searching for movies. But in ONE DAY so much worked itself out. That’s why you get to that step. So with rapier, moving at the speed of light, “the fastest man alive” my soundtrack. I cannot be late. I have a LAWYER to mind, you see. A lawyer. This is smart visualization.

I don’t give a shit. You see?

Okay, so I wrote, having gotten over a crucial step. You have to also reach for help. That’s my producer. I ask for nothing. So what it’s a Saturday? At least, I said I’m doing this unless you tell me otherwise, but my goal is clear.

I could do A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints MEETS The Royal Tenenbaums, just GET Julianne Moore or Cate Blanchett as DR. J. I can go there. The one who hates him the most, in the end, will be by his side. Got it. It doesn’t have to even be connected to anything that comes from my story. But my story, in a sense, got me into this situation. And yes, I felt everything inside of me go — GO! It’s so fictional that within this amount of time, I felt that to be more like a process. Get James Earl Jones as Death, the oldest storyteller, that’s a duh. A big big duh. Next. One can dream. I’m laughing. I did a synopsis called Everything Flows about me going home which might be more cohesive with Good Will Hunting in mind, in that, he decides to take the UNKNOWN road. In the end. Since that’s like a step one. In my case, that might turn out to be true.

I thought, what I can do with Once Upon a Time on Miracle Mile is a family drama. High five, Wahlberg. A drama. I’ll have to work out the psychological thing, but it’s a drama. Unless I go the comedy/horror route, looking at Parenthood, which I don’t, I don’t know what that is. So what if there are comedic moments? Or they are a funny family.

The Fabelman’s is actually a touch closer because it is cinematic. It’s a family picture.

I have to clean up the wisdom, that is, his mother says, “you don’t owe anyone your life, not even me,” and that’s really true. I don’t care who you are. So, that’s life wisdom. For me, it’s not exactly right, but I’ll keep working it out. The real story WAS NUTS. What did I learn from that? Looking at these people — what did I learn? Besides the fact that I was a piece of shit? I had to wake up. That’s something else. age is the red energy for a reason. So that’s its own story.

I sat here and simply imagined this morning that I was sitting in front of Spielberg, about to watch Always, like oh my God Audrey Hepburn is in it? I’d love to. More ghosts. An afterlife pic. I thought about telling him my story…thinking, hm, maybe that will draw it out. But I gotta get ONE movie — that’s it. So, I shelved Forrest Gump, a picture I love.

I said, unless HE has any thoughts about all this just because a week is what I have— I can do this, I don’t doubt that — but you can understand why Gattaca is inspiring, like “I never planned for the return,” no? He’s just going all the way. As far as he can.

I’m going with family drama, fun script. I can continue along these lines. That’s what my instincts told me…even if the story can go in so many directions, but then, none of the ideas that came out of it have anything to do with this one…I can still do those. So, I’m going to stick to family.

I feel so much better this afternoon.

Flying over Brad Pitt — “I must produce a bible…” getting on HOOK’s pirate ship. Pitt sort of looking at me…? The jeans, right? Haha. Make up some painter character. Who wears that. Painting little pictures. NO? With surges of ideas…who MUST paint. I’ve had so much fun. Bejeweled jeans. That bag.

Like Spielberg sort of looked at me in my head, “I went to LA,” since I’ve really been suffering, like what am I doing here? They moved to California, but I am from there originally. So — I was reborn in a sense, and so, where would you go, if you woke up, and you were in Italy? That was the question. I’m not Italian, so um? I would go there. Exactly. That’s basically it. We moved through the “NY is more accessible” problem. So much mind.

So watching Spielberg helped me with that. It’s not that I haven’t seen other films, but this is an entirely new world, the old Maria is no longer. I had one of those lives. I cannot get WRAPPED up in “we’re all alike,” in a sense, it’s just a too confusing. I want to communicate, connect, all that, but please.

Next? Brad Pitt says.

THE HORIZON UP and DOWN is the way to GO. Now, get out of my office. Spielberg is like, wow! You see? You see the difference? I did. So that’s it. I’m going to LA. I’m going to watch some more films in my GENRE, since I gotta go with something. Find the right references, take a Photoshop tutorial, maybe, figure out the feel, aesthetic, first, and then I’ll communicate it more accurately, since Spielberg helped. If you want to make that picture. I have to still figure out that story a bit. It’s not Parenthood, it’s not that, but I watched movies from that period, because Ron Howard has done psychological thrillers, type of thing, going through the Rolodex of everything I’ve seen, needing to double check, was it? Was it so? Just because there are these psychological dreams. So fine.

I mean, maybe there’s some crack up, like you sort of have to crack up, which I did, getting something together, since I’m doing this by myself. And yeah, that story was hysterical. Wasn’t it? Scary villain fairytale voice. What really happened on Miracle Mile, sort of cringing, sometimes, because what even was it? I had Aronofsky in my head, having seen some of his films, going what is the psychological nature of it since Fear is a psychological thriller…though I see “Horror/Mystery.” This isn’t a horror, though you might go, how horrible at times, like I would never want to be in this situation. Uhhhhhhhh, some people would say, like, no, I’m cool, you’re clearly crazy, so you thousands of dollars… I might pocket it, Chappelle says, but I’m probably going to call the cops sooner rather than later. We’ll work out the baby problem later. You know, what do you do? So I get it as a drama. Funny family maybe. The specifics I can work out. Family being greater than one’s own, something, I can figure it out.

I guess I was a Wasteland character in my own way, that came from “an other story” that didn’t fit into the Village. It’s just…I had a light story. That’s what people told me. My father got sick. I got another family, in a sense, that’s another story.

Kicking a chair.

That was Death.

A very very good idea.

What we learn.

To get out of Wonderland, I can, that’s a cool “Death” story, in a sense.

I hope to get there. My hair looks crazy. It doesn’t, it’s never looked LESS curly. Easy. It’s always been easy to flip expectations. So, I’m alive and well as was the mantra, my phrase, and death can move, you see, it’s just that no matter HOW it goes, no matter the path, that is there regardless for everyone, what it means is something else, and go ahead, plenty of people have imagined in that way, except the Field of Dreams has sort of a hard stop, JAMES EARL JONES somehow, his power that real and true, can be invited over, okay? That’s the movie.

I thought about getting real with that, that I had one life, so I made a reach and reached the other side. Here. And the more I’m really here, on the other side, the MORE I think, looking back, wow, maybe I really did see my death coming… maybe I even had a close call. So who knows what that idea will become but it’s a coming-to-life idea. That’s all.

I have to make ONE idea a small reality. ONE film in a sea can send ripples, sure, a splash, but it is just one. I had to think about ET. Imagine. “So, then, they put the ET in a BASKET,” imagine someone telling you this, but probably they’re going to tell you, I don’t know, looking at this bible, wondering, where was David Lynch at this time? This isn’t Lynch.

It’s not Lynch. It’s the Duffer Brothers. I’ve seen that. I can’t remember who told me what. The Stranger Things bible. Okay cleared that up. Thank you. I’m properly situated. They were already in television. Got it. There’s Lynch in there, but it’s not him, not that it’s even his style, but he gave me that, and A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints. So that’s what I was working with. No problem. I’m back here. He didn’t even have an idea…necessarily, but how cool, he said, do it.

I don’t have any creative collaborators, I didn’t want to hear “oh you should do this…” not unless he did, does that make sense? Didn’t want ANY limiting perspectives. I didn’t want ANY weird energy around me, no questions, how’s it going, nothing, only I hope it works out. So good.

So feeling great, again, full of promise. Took today to settle. To get clear. I have less than a week. I suppose if it’s sort of a tale, or PHOTO album, yeah, the container. The family story container. Is it a photo album? It can be tongue and cheek, totally, I get that. A story book. So I think about that. It can be “A coloring book,” I saw that too, with someone checking there finger, almost like, the paint is still…wet. Sure. That’s a feeling question. Okay, I got it.

Thanks for reading. I haven’t shared any of this with anyone, so… there you go.

I’m going to watch more dramas that take place in a family.

What’s the classic family movie?

Excuse me.

Um, based on what I’m seeing, I don’t know how easy it is to sell a family story, in a sense, but even The Tree of Life is about a family, isn’t it? It’s not popping up. Field of Dreams is even popping up as a film about family. Psycho is… lol. A crazy ass family. Isn’t it?

“I depend on style more than plot. It is how you do it, and not your content that makes you an artist. A story is simply a motif, just as a painter might paint a bowl of fruit just to give him something to be painting.” 

Hitchcock, exactly, no?

He was interested in my story though, so…

The idea of making a crappy picture doesn’t “scare me,” big whoop. Kudos. You can still make it happen. But if that person can hand it to someone, basically, who might go, “sure,” then great. No? I don’t know anyone. The thing is, if it’s one house, that’s practically it, to me, off the top of my head, that’s, in a sense a relatively easy movie…in terms of production. It’s a house. That’s Mother, right? Yeah, one house. Speaking of “psychological scenes.” The truly scary scene in my life, obviously, is the one I couldn’t face. Me, at four years old, just against a door…in the dark…no one is talking to me…while my mother DIES, literally, is dying in a single bed…that is supposed to be mine? Horror. And my father slipping into the master bed? I cannot go anywhere. I’m four. That’s it. It’s a BIT too close. It’s just a smidgen too close. There is some horror or psychological version — again, I totally agree with this quote, where I’m waking up an adult with no means of placing my experience that I ended up having — like dear God, with all these stories buzzing around “a psychic.” Like this is THE feature. This IS a psychic. That’s…

Someone literally told me, “you are a portal, channel, and antenna traveling on multiple planes of existence…”

So, what’s it about? Or, just how do I want to do that? Stylistically. Anyway, I’ll continue my banter.

WHAT? Am I supposed to do with that? Sentence? Other than, make some kind of fake documentary series…where I’m dealing with it. Where people are “seeing my life,” um, I’m just standing there in some rural area. I’m laughing. I’m just laughing today. Luckily my roommate bounced. The nicest guy. “I mean, is it hard? Being a ? Being a portal, channel, and antenna…traveling on multiple planes of existence, well, ask Beyonce…” Sometimes. Okay, so for the moment, I’m going to conceive of a family drama…might begin with me at the police station, don’t know, but something that says “this baby is in trouble,” and how do I want to do it, “a feel good,” I mean, I heard “made for tv,” but I just don’t care, it’s not even that, but I’m just reaching for ONE idea that will put me there. That will be good. Yeah. And I’ll keep going. Someone can buy it and say, “we’re going to do this.” Or do this. NO? I’m open. But this was exciting. I liked this. I literally came into this situation FROM a wine bar…thinking, maybe I wanted to go in this direction…

LOL the artist painter who MUST paint. She must. In a white silk bandana, something. Maybe shoes.

Someone could probably see that and go, hm, maybe. I can’t judge that. I’m sure the tone and style section was…funny. Like, reading this bible, do movies typically have to produce a bible? I have no idea. Well, seems like it, but no two are alike, necessarily, so — alright. I’ll think heartwarming, psychologically complex, I thought it was funny that Barbara Harris could have played me at 4. In The Royal Tenenbaums version, she would have won an Academy Award at 4. Stepping up to the stage… needing to be lifted to the mic. Not knowing what to say. “TANK YOU.” Getting bashful. These are DR. J’s children, like hilarious, dysfunctional, I read The Family Fang, she’s an actress and he’s a writer. She’s had some success, he hasn’t, he gets his face blown off, something, and yeah. Again, there’s a FIELD of DREAMS. I wish I had a couple of months to swim a bit, so I’m doing that today. The thing is, for me, I want to do The Joker’s Daughter, something Joker related, because I got a COOL JOKER. Interesting. I watched an episode of Batgirl, Batwoman? With my roommate, “Alice,” he pointed to it. He watches stuff all the time. One of those. That’s not Dr. J. She’s not “evil.” She’s great, it’s not that, but that’s not crazy to me…so DR. J — just that character description, it might inspire someone to go — DR. J?

Her name is DR. J? That’s like a superhero villain. Yeah, and that’s all true. There’s nothing I can say, personally, about her qualities other than…her genius? Is this what this is? But a thrilling villain, a thrilling Joker’s Daughter who’s like Batman’s true match, and my roommate didn’t get it, because she’s motivated, in a sense, by the same thing but opposite, like her family were criminals. The clown being a way out, a response, a cosmic joke, someone who isn’t interested in power, sure, but works for the good. Type of deal. That’s what I thought was good. “Surprise, it’s a girl.” Alice isn’t a Joker, right, but that’s essentially what she is, and I haven’t seen this enough, but she’s locked in a room? For most of her life? So “scary” childhood circumstances, um, a dime a dozen. He kills a kitten? Excuse me? In front of them?

ME running through this house at FOUR, throwing down chairs — ME hiding, that DOOR IN MY FIELD OF VISION. This is Maria Mocerino. Raising hell. Saying thank you, please, I’m sorry. I busted into this woman’s house. Made my presence known. So funny. Made a run for it. Out the door. To the poisonous plum tree. That plum tree sort of fantastic? A bright fairytale, I understand, in a sense, where the dark reflects the bright day. I like that. The treehouse was invaded by bees, taken over. So that perfect backyard has signs of true illness. Isn’t that interesting? MAYBE they were lying, I have no goddamn idea, but the treehouse and plum tree….sort of foreboding. Where did I sleep? I know. My undercover investigation. The whole thing. I did a ride through a Forrest Gump, just a long ride…he was probably MY AGE, no? On the bench? To me, DR. J was a true Joker. That got me out of the hospital. Funny no? Like a superhero. She’s a JOKER.

My Italian cousins were like, “yeah,” that’s what she looks like, not “um, what are you talking about?” They said yeah.

I was told this was my fault, too, basically.

I mean, I don’t know what four year old can do this — BARBARA HARRIS — because I remember me sneaking, listening into this phone call, calling, right? Because this was Dr. J land. That I knew. Looking at this woman, taking a seat, telling me that I can never see my father again, not understanding! I was four. It was just nuts. Just nuts to me. 12,000 dollars a month? That’s what I remember. The tennis club is good. My undercover investigation is interesting, because I was eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve. It ended with the red roses from my stupid Sunday school teacher. Truly, ding dong. After a lunch? We should go out to lunch, as……..colleagues. That’s a sign. Totally nuts. I’m sure some parents would have skinned someone alive. I just never stepped a foot inside that place ever again. But it should have been reported. Would you have ever guessed? Probably not. I remember a Fry’s Electronics, parked at a red light, turning at this guy, like — you’re driving me home. Why am I here? That was it. It’s funny. I remember this lunch, vaguely, not wanting to project, since I have friends of many ages lol.

Eating some food.

But I felt how scary that might have sounded to some. Like noooooooooooo.

Maria no!

And then, Fry’s. That red light.

That was the pull out, stop. Um, attacked my father. Left the church as far as I could go. I was still going to school.

So sure, there’s a fairytale element to it, the plum tree, the vibe, some sex forward woman picking me up and hilariously singing songs about her being a woman in love, you see, I remember this so deeply because it was such a performance. She was larger than life. I mean, when it comes to the family genre, Parenthood, even, the grandpa says he got laid in this car to this child probably my age. I don’t know how old he was. “If you weren’t my sister…” lol. Kindergarten Cop is about family, I mean, that’s dark. The kid’s going to be kidnapped. Nicole and I watched that one so many times.

Do I need to have filmmakers in mind? Can I communicate a vision? Does that make sense?

I’m hearing “Requiem for a Tower,” that makes me laugh. The villain Joker theme version of “Requiem for a Dream.” That’s Dr. J to me lol. One of these. Again, anything can happen, someone can go, what, I’m sorry excuse me? This is it. This character description right here. Bright is the new dark. I can spend lots of time telling you about Dr. J, “don’t tell anybody,” so maybe I should think the play between light and dark, “how smart you really are…” that’s Dr. J. That’s her LIFE advice. “Mama didn’t tell anybody that she was a genius…” how weird is that? I get a little scared, sometimes, graining away from this story, like, what was this? It’s so true. It’s eery. And it’s the way — I questioned all of this when I got out — she threw her hands in my face laughing, like she’s never seen anything like it. “Here, take her!!” If you think about it, WHY, why did this fall on me?

I was the innocent in this situation.

But that’s another topic. Or that’s another movie.

So sure, I’ll make a family drama. Who cares, in a sense, how they keep her, I don’t know. She didn’t want to call the cops for real because she didn’t want to send me to foster care. So, you see, my investigation — my undercover investigation — was useful in opening this up, because her statement implies that my father, even my father wouldn’t have been able to keep me. You see? So she sent me home with unsafe people MORE than once. Since I was home a couple of times. I have pictures. Even. With dates. But that aside, doing something inspired by them, like some terror child, um, a handful, whatever, coming into a situation as someone who comes from a real situation…this family not understanding that, and getting wrapped up in money, though they…are members of an exclusive club, have, what seems to be, a nice house, but then, who knows? I mean, some of this stuff, is…more of a question about appearances. I was studying all this. In a sense. Let’s say their money has been threatened. Or she comes from, which is what I thought, a modest background. She’s a bit money hungry. Something. And it seemed innocent, even stupid, right, but she comes to find, very quickly, that this girl might be in danger, in some way, I mean, these were Dr. J’s stories, what IS true, not true, you see, I was 4, 8, so I don’t know. I know she wasn’t dying of terminal illnesses, she was a drug addict, but, sorry, if you think about people who do super fucked up things, well, what do you think they’re going to LOOK like? Maybe totally normal, box, sure, that’s possible too. Double life. Whatever. Anais Nin was a wild card herself. I’m always a bit shocked by that one. Just because she was unethical. But then, there are characters like that. The um, “men do it,” thing, would make Dr. J laugh. So you could see, how someone could even rise to prominence for terrible deeds, sure “there are lines,” sure.

So, that ride aside, I’ll make a family drama almost feeling like I’m swimming through a few at the same time…about a family who finds themselves in a weird situation, they get wrapped up, she crosses lines, keeps it from him, after the money bit, it’s like I get the steps, make him feel bad even, for not being able to provide, or just, come on, it’s a lot of money, and she’s just asking us to watch her kid. She’s a bit — a lot — wild, but she probably has no one…blah blah blah. And then, on top of it, her father is a child molester, I get that, even, how horrible, let’s give her a chance. What a FREAK of a woman, Jesus, but then, supposedly she’s not around at all. She sort of bounces…with these WEIRD birthday parties? That occurred in the span of a few weeks? How does this lady KNOW that? That’s what I mean. I remember what she said at the tennis club extremely accurately. Hard to forget such sentences.

Never seen anything like it, her personality HELPED, dramatic. Pointing at any thing, wanting birthday parties, and she would make these birthday parties happen, but SHE only came over “like twice,” exact wording, with two fingers in my face. I remember once. That’s it. And she told me about the coming over without a top…a blouse totally open and passing out. So, might as well…put it in. Since that’s a bit — WHOA, that’s a WHOA. I’ve got KIDS you lunatic. My wits are spot on. So this family got more than they bargained for. Okay. And then, they don’t know what to do…so, Maria has to become a part of them in some way, and then, yup, I could see this getting made, they fight to keep her…with some swerves in there, I’ll take the real story. The “invite” of NICK, telling him that she lied, yeah, I get that psychological crack up, like this is a liar, my mother lied about everything, it JUST, in reality, like to the COPS doesn’t mean a goddamn thing to them. Well, what WOULD YOU EXPECT? Another goddamn liar. BY his response, she loses it even further, can’t even deal. So I get the psychological spin, like you have no means with which to place yourself, the money runs out, shit! I’m owed. Complicated in this case because it’s sort of sordid, it was a lot of money, in a sense, and there’s this child molester, maybe, don’t know, she’s bouncing, there’s this RIDICULOUS protector, now, what????? NO more money. Goodbye. Good day.

So I get how it goes nuts.

She’s not my kid, shit, and she has no one.

The Christmas party is the CREEPIEST thing I have ever heard. And it happened to me. At seven. This is all around the same time. I mean, ew. I’m at a Christmas party, never happened before, it was NEW to me, I know I was out of the house by then, but still. I don’t see these people all evening. I don’t even realize I’m there. Truly. I sort of come to…like I’m at a party in my house…and my parents are not here…he’s downstairs, probably, but I know where she is. Upstairs dying. In the bed that’s supposed to be mine. Totally nuts, right? And can you imagine? Being told at step one “nah, didn’t happen.” She didn’t give you away, you DON’T REMEMBER. Now, if I were to hear that again, I’d cut straight to that. Or, just leave.

XMAS in Naples is fascinating, that scene with my cousins — “no that didn’t happen, you don’t remember…” before I even began.

I haven't gotten the narrative of it yet, you don’t feel the DRIVE — no, no, no, no, no, at step one. But that’s Bukowski, I’ll get that, it’s not effective, a script is one thing. And then, I explode in an unusual direction, like what? Because I can’t totally see straight as a person. I don’t have “ouch” meters, you can’t hurt me. Today, I’m not the same person. I can’t get mad, not their fault, um, sort of internally against self, let’s make this FUN, you can see a Joker in here, right? I’ll learn. So fast. Impossibly fast. Who? Who am I proving anything to? No one. Not my interest. So then, I impersonate this Brazilian mother and that flies…they can tell she’s true. I’m that convincing. Just hilarious. So that works. It’s compelling, it’s just — whoa. And then, I have no means of being able to read myself. Like, I said too much, not like, I couldn’t get past the first two sentences. And then, boom, concern. This “concern thing.”

Maybe I should get those jeans. The bejeweled jeans. You know. Show up in LA. Get up on stage. “I’m a painter…” I paint things, playing WITH frame. “It’s all about the frame.” This is my process. Stare. I want to. I’m going to get those jeans. I’ll invent some characters, try to not lose it on stage. I MUST spend 200 euros on these jeans! Or, get a glue gun… even better, have one fall off. I’m thinking about it. “In those jeans,” Genuwine. I’m painting. You see, this is where Barbara Harris starts laughing in my head. These moments. These thoughts I have. So, check, I have character 1 to try out. Just get funny clothes. Get lost in a bag.

In any case, I’ll try a family drama. I found Reddit List.

But this is aesthetics. It’s also an aesthetic exercise. I have stuff in my head. So, I’ll look up cinematographers. I’ll watch some “greats,” like I already have started to in the “cinematic” arena. I like Spielberg. I’ll watch some directors since that might be a better route. That’s what I’ve been trying to do. With some stops through the era. Again, the era feels slightly less important. That’s 82. Through the Years. So, terms of endearment? Boom, that came straight in. I’ll watch Terms of Endearment, cry a little, sure, then, I’ll cruise over to ….wrote a list… and I’m back.

I could make this a psychological thriller. Take this mother who has “a child molester” in her grasp — to a whole new level. Totally. Her dreams, even, what she wants to do to him. Kill him. I could totally do that. I’ll see what continues to inspire me this weekend. I could do that another time. I mean, again, I would love to be able to get to the next step…in a week. AND? Kick the door in THOSE JEANS. That’s great. Even me “going home,” speaking specifically in the realm of fiction, could turn into a psychological thriller — hello mummy. “Hello Mummy.” “THAT’s the title” the wise screenwriter says. And then Jack Nicholson in The Shining — my face. Laughing. Where I go nuts on Dr. J, you see, “absolutely,” he says, but of course, I would not touch a thing, of course not. “Isn’t that right, Mummy?” Delicious. Extraordinary. 38, though, so, hm, might not see it. 42. 44. Just go away.

Okay, wrote some movies down. I am excited about Tarkovsky, just because of some of the stylistic choices he makes, so I’ll watch one of those. I studied the structure again of A Guide to Recognizing Your Saints. He’s an adult. He’s looking back at a specific year where people died. He’s going back because his father is ill. He ends up seeing Antonio in prison…I appreciated this movie even if it was a touch difficult for me to watch at first. I could…look back…on these years… when…I get a phone call that Dr. J is sick? Oh, that’s already a stretch. But sure, why would I go? To have some women suddenly want to tell me that it was true, false, so sorry for all that? It’s funny, “cool, make a film,” okay, like it’s hard, Legally Blond. I like that. I end up at Harvard, like it’s hard? I watched some movies, sure. In THOSE jeans. I see a white bandana. That’s it. I might have to get these jeans. If they even have my size. I’m telling you. I MUST get these jeans. I’m totally thrilled. You know?

But I do see, some idea coming out of that, or — I get out of the hospital. You know? I call the BRAZILIAN mother, “this bitch, Dr. J.” So, I “go home,” and tell the Brazilian Jews that maybe this shit wasn’t a lie? Throwing chairs. Getting angry. To then GET the bitch. I’m going DR. J. Or, something. I end up with Dr. J in some hospital, so make peace with all this? So, picking up my pants like the escort, “he was a child molester? You were? It’s alright,” asking the nurse for a milk, who gives a shit, let’s talk, I don't know. Artistically, you see, from a certain perspective, what am I trying to bring into the world? I don’t even want to overthink it that much because I can start with a family drama and take it from there…if it gets there. Right? I’m all about manifest — there’s a reality, if you must know, when I had my time bending experience, when that seemed to be going on? I saw balls of fire, not exactly literally, but some field of fire through this sunset, points, almost, and the information I was receiving, I shrugged. Okay, I thought, there are probable futures. This is what this seemed to be. I got it. That seemed to make sense to me. And some futures were more probable than others, I saw that too in this vision of sorts, and my father was in a state at the time, and all of this made sense. But no matter HOW improbable, it can be, thus, okay, I got it, there’s more possible than we think, got it, and we’re limited by our framework of knowledge. Change is possible on a large scale. All of this made conceptual sense.

So sure, there’s a reality that is “probable” that I make something that gets to the next step. So, why not go for it? I’ll “see what happens” with total belief. That’s it. Not there yet. I have a week. I can take some photoshop tutorial on how to make something look like a photo album if that’s the container. “The x family.” Nostalgic film popped up. To me, Forrest Gump is everything, my Aunt Jane balling her eyes out. “And he wasn’t even AVERAGE! He was below average! And look what he did!” She was totally in tears. And I thought, hm, let’s take my friend Barbara Harris — put her on that bench, now what? I’m watching that. I’m watching the fake bio pic of some character Barbara Harris plays. Most definitely. “And then,” for sure, you see, this is Barbara Harris speaking through me, “I became a psychic, I guess I always was…I’m a channel, portal, and antenna traveling on multiple planes of existence, but that got confusing…you know.”

Wouldn’t that be just splendid? “I’ve seen some, funny things, sure…” I’ll just insert some love story, or something, I could do that. “Man, Matera was challenging…” because it was. “Do you know that place? It’s one of the oldest human settlements, yeah, and I had some communication with the site, something happened there, I think, but… um, it was very angry…” anyway, I don’t dabble in “that,”said FLAT. THAT.

Someone’s watching that. That I know.

Bubbles.

“No, it’s not my name…”

Anyway, these dreams aside, I love characters, right? I’ll figure this out later. FIRST — I gotta make a probable reality a reality.

I mean, Lady Bird has some strong Justin Timberlake affection. But what the fuck does “Through the Years” mean to anyone today? The hilarity of the family video. And maybe MARIA is sitting there…watching these…we see she’s not in them. And then, we’re off with some “sound.” 2 years earlier. Or, a few months, in this case, who cares? I swear…we’ve been through everything there is…how do I want to treat these years? As is. It’s just to get to whatever that drive is.

Maybe I could tell a series of stories via the love songs. As if chapters. I could probably do that. I don’t know.

But how do I want to treat these years? What is going to connect?

I’m off. I’m watching Immensita with Penelope Cruz because it’s about a mother…

So right now this is not a psychological Drama

It’s not a psychological drama….?

I suppose there’s a psychological fils. Thread. Angelita gets wrapped up, diffuses some game that makes no sense, but I guess you’d hope that a person would…leave a person who would harm a child. For me, wouldn’t be hard. That one is pretty clear. So okay, sure, I’ll protect your child…while you “figure it out.” My parents — Looney Tunes. Nothing is done in the real.

Fear is a psychological thriller. Black Swan is a psychological drama. Aronofsky. It’s not that Miracle Mile isn’t inherently psychological, but psychological scenes, what does that mean? Dr. J was one head case. I’m sure she still is. She was so crazy, I think it had an effect. But she had money. A high-powered job. My parents very much lived in “a world of appearances,” though Dr. J was so unhinged, it was a “see you at the police station later” situation, always. The appearance amazingly was practically relevant, performance art.

“I love you I love you I love you,” you never heard something say I love you more, breathy, fawning. So she bought herself a friend. Keeping her close— her best friend. She was extremely confusing. There’s a psychological haze, maybe, around Angelieta. Nothing solid. No sense. But what the fuck did she care? 12,000 a month. And this lover—what? Yeah, Dr. J talked about all that, that’s what I mean…you’re operating in a place called crazy town. This and that lover, this, so she bought herself…someone…but she not asking for her kid, so she doesn’t know what’s going on. I’m just trying to track it for her.

She continues to do this for the money, she’s going to make all sorts of assumptions about her behavior thus far when she hears this news about the father being a child molester, on the light end. The thing is, fascinating, horrible, Dr. J just lives in this world. That’s where she lives. So either for fun or truth or both, she asks this lady to protect a child for money, for doing this for her, keeping her baby safe. And then, the father behaves most strangely. He was diagnosed with dementia after all this and didn’t tell anyone…on top of it… She accepts, more money, I can only imagine. They go to DA Vinci’s, no? Bring the girls, why not, make this deal? And, why not, while we’re at it, if Nick tries to come around, we’ll play this “nice game” with him…as in “stay away,” we know…until Dr. J gets a divorce that she’ll never get. Meanwhile, Maria finally breaks down. Dr. J spins further out of control herself…coming…over another time and disturbing the house. At which point, her family will confront her. This has gone too far. She’ll confess, I think, I’m not sure if she told her kids. But then, these strange visits of his…I can’t count…it’s just this situation got there — fast. Months. And then, years later, the money starts running out. From what I understand, Dr. J made 2 million in two years…and she spent 2.5. And this is limos. Not…a house. Booze. Clothes. That too. And from what I understand, despite her strange means of operating, I think she did that solo…I remember a small staff from t time to time or people around. Well, the salary I wish I had right now, to be honest, and I hope, one fine day, even that number will be way behind me. I hope so. These people thinking I’m money bags… because I pay 1000 a month. Just please. My apartment wasn’t that nice. Crazy.

The money runs out…first with “sorry, left it in Cabo,” and Dr. J could say that, “tomorrow, next week, I swear,” whatever, to disappear behind some mysterious protector. Angelita loses it. And the situation beings to break down from there. Maybe I should write a farce. “The adventures of Dr. J.”

The situation is breaking down in some capacity, she’s spinning, she’s also dealing with guilt, perhaps, as she chooses to remain involved with this person. Honestly, though, if you think about “the games people play,” what the fuck was the point? If this was some ruse, if Dr. J wanted to get rid of her kid……..because she was jealous, according to my father, which is bizarre, I have no idea, except she lived in the world. This was her means of seeking and repelling intimacy. In one. Bombarding the priest with stories of her rapes. And psychologically, to confront, no one does. Because, it’s a repeller. It works. No one wants to deal with it. Not unless, you’re fat Alan, like I give a shit about the man’s physique. He sleeps with her because of the way she would throw herself on someone — pathetic. Where did she learn this? This is a sick woman. It’s like, sitting there, GIRL, were you beaten? You keep saying that. And you’re degrading yourself to such a point. Now…I know who my parents are. I’m just saying…like some lady throwing 12,000 dollars who cannot see straight, what conclusions can one make?

The money actually drives her ENTIRE perception. Sure, that figure drove her crazy, sure. But I’ll tell you once thing, if I was protecting some girl — I’d tell that son of a bitch — to get the FUCK off my property.

ANTHONY, right now, knows about the money…I’m laughing already…that’s Dr. J gives her while she “figures this out,” which then comes back around, when it runs out, with the husband saying the same goddamn thing. “She can stay with you,” for free, “until he figures this out.” It’s so creepy. So, at least, well, that part — supports my support, picturing this fictional version of this woman…hearing this. A father is speaking in my mind about how casual…. it’s just a touch too casual with those two. I know Dr. J cried, but so can I, on cue. Real tears. On cue.

She bounces. No one wants to send Maria to foster care, call the authorities. In the real story, I came to a couple of times in my house, at the door, this protector of Dr. J’s acting…offensively toward me. My father continues to do nothing. I call her, I can’t stay here. But in this fictionalized version because I had a month, the family is going to show up for me, basically, and they — in the real story…

In the real story, the real story, took me THIRTY YEARS. These pieces I had didn’t connect. So when…they did…that was horrifying. She sent me home with them a couple of times. But she’s getting 12,000 dollars. I guess. Or she wants to believe, seriously speaking, that they are trying to work it out, and it’s not her kid, and I’m beginning to dance, expertly. but I can’t sleep there. Do I have clothes there? And I don’t know if what I blocked out corresponds to what was I went through…but then, look, I suppose from her perspective, that got royally messed up. So, fine, she gave me a bunch of money, sure, it wasn’t a million dollars, but still, and then, she tells me he’s terrible, so sure, thanks for the money, how generous, I’ll do this, and then, this situation continues to appear really really weird. With Dr. J — there’s no trust. You cannot trust her. And this woman went around this circle, because, look, dancing backwards, if she’s — where am I? This lady is gone. She’s so addicted to drugs, she reached a whole new level…that was really something.

Angelita, desperate, starts dropping me off. I came to once. I had blank spots. Like what am I doing here? I would call her. Of course, who else am I doing to call? So she would have to pick me up. And, my father…she tells him…your wife lied about that…about you...so she agreed to keep me now, in a state of guilt over what she did to him, that…she’ll do it for free. And now, when I remember my father telling me he couldn’t afford her, I understand what he meant. And there was never enough money, you see, this entire situation was a scarcity model. Think about it. This was scarcity 101. Like I mean, level one. Bitch, I want my 12,000 dollars! I would get a real apartment, easy. New goal. 12,000 dollars. Dave Chappelle….laughing at that amount. Bless him. Jeez, people. come from so many scenarios. Rich, poor, terrible, subtly, I don’t know, but I’m just reaching a point…I’m in another country…probably, the wise advice would have been to stay in the states, but I hope I’ll sell an idea, at least a chance, which might propel me forward…

Anyway, she can’t send me home. Since there’s trouble there. Of course I went into a blank rage, lady. I cut that bitches phone chords — snap, snap, snap. Then, I got the white out. It was blank. I got up, I was alone in this bedroom, and I calmly walked into office — got out the scissors. The white-out. And I painted over everrrryyy key. Cut every chord. I didn’t feel anything.

THAT’S WHEN ANGELITA invites my father over.

Somewhere around here.

Meanwhile, my father’s cognition was — the wires were zany. I have to apologize to them. When this lady put your child in this situation. Looking at me disappointed.

This whole period took time.

So, NICK, she says, she lied.

There was a day I officially went home.

But I stayed with her while he “figured this out…”

And due to her guilt, she allowed it.

Now, I just rearranged the order…so the husband, wherever he was, must grapple with a lot…I don’t really know what to say, but if my partner — I would just say this person has gone temporarily insane. In this crazy story. The thing is, four years is not nothing. Maybe to some romantic relationships, but family or familial relationships have a real material. It’s also somewhat, I think, fundamental in mental health…even connection basically. What else was she going to do in the real? She didn’t want to send me to foster care…so she sent me home with him. So, I don’t know what to look BACK. I could make some comedic version of some matriarch named Dr. J who is a con artist, who’s playing games, trying to make amends, and I’m in some stylized world. I could try that ride. Think of an actor — insert her in. She could be a spy. Since Dr. J supposedly is involved with them…truly. Maybe the relationship would be hilarious. Some mother daughter showdown. We’re kicking the shit out of each other. Everyone wants to see it. Cool locations. That’s for certain.

For now, I’ll think about this family. They’re going to attempt to adopt her? Good luck.

Anyway, apparently, there is a probable reality already in existence — spinning up material — in which I get the idea to the next step. So that’s the path. And I intend to get there.

Look at these hilarious clothes I saw.

But then, if someone goes…but WHAT IF…

Okay, then this bag, I don’t know where I’m going, but maybe as an idea…lol.