I don’t care— I did not need the Hollywood guru suggesting I wasn’t fed as a very young child “all the time” or something. I am pissed.
That being said, I am happier because I woke up feeling a bit supported here — from? I do not know, but I appreciate it. The ghost of Barbara Harris does as well.
I refocused a moment to just concentrate on taking care of my basics first, so I’m picking up a bunch of plants off Craigslist the next couple of days as well as a couple of pieces of furniture. I’m looking at removable wallpaper. I’m looking at my fire escape, thinking: plants, Christmas lights, an outdoor chair. I’m going to order some prints, a better table.
My EPIC short, I just spent some painstaking hours just reading what I’ve done, just trying to feel like I can actually make progress as I can’t structure anything, I find it difficult. But then, I just went scene by scene up until a certain point, not knowing quite where I’m going, but I’m just thinking about my pitch: this is the story of a girl…who investigates…her mother. And then, I think the obvious twist is “was that true?” In the end?
I think I’m in a better place with it. So I’m going to sit with the structure I started laying out, where I’m contemplating or analyzing this situation in the only mirror left from my mothers walls of mirrors, my working hypothesis as a young Sherlock meets Carl Jung, I guess, I’m going to have to think about that just because I don’t know if that’s the right reference, it’s just the one everyone knows. But it’s the basic idea.
I’m going to just stick to that for a minute. Like I guess I have ideas as to what where at the BH tennis club, which I thought would appeal to EPIC because my investigation took place at the Beverly Hills Tennis Club, which is a prime time spot, as a tennis match is happening on the main stage. I’m going to just keep trying to take it step by step now because I get lost and overwhelmed by a certain point, and I feel like I needed to remember what the drive is…
Which is — Dr. J. Did this happen to her? I’m studying child abuse, sexual abuse, specifically, if not incest in some capacity. Using my mother as a kind of mirror to illuminate psychology — not the mind. It’s structure. I think. I don’t know how to distinguish those two things, exactly, but I’m studying the psychology of the “little sex scandal,” I was in, which I’m calling it so I don’t get weird disappointed looks that it isn’t…………?? That bad????
I feel better about it. And I’ll see what they say when I’m done. Hopefully they go, “yeah cool.” I don’t know what to say about getting crazy inflated about it, in the sense, they’ve read all sorts of crazy ass stories. Though my mother was a psychological case. A basket case. ADDICT. Chose your word there. But it took me like a lot of time just to get the disbelief shit out of my head, like these two guys from EPIC (lol) reading this and going, “why are you doing that?”
“We believe you.”
I have to laugh. So I’m almost past that completely — like, leave me alone. That’s that. I still haven’t found another job yet, I’m not looking like crazy, but I hope something comes to mind, something. So here we go. Another night. Almost got this puppy off Craigslist lol.
