signs

so the deadline for that job i kind of wanted (trainee script editor) was actually august 20th, not august 27th. that means i missed it. i obviously wasn't meant to have that job. maybe it's a sign that i shouldn't be editing other people's scripts but focusing on my own. because if i'm honest with myself, in my heart of hearts that's what i'd love to do for a living; write scripts. i think i had it too easy the first time round, with a producer saying he wanted it. but now - it's probably just gathering dust somewhere at shepperton. and i'm too chicken to call and ask what's going on, if he's still looking for an agent for me, if he's even still interested. i keep telling myself i'll call in september. i'm just one big coward. afraid of failure. so maybe i should just admit that i fucked up over this job application deadline instead of seeing everything as a sign. it's just a way of interpreting everything to your liking. it's stupid.

anyone?

this weblog is a tiny little fragment of cyberspace that i get to call my own. to do what i want with it, to share with others. a couple of people sometimes read the posts; i know this 'cause they leave comments. that's fine. it's a kind of validation.

i saw this quote about a month ago: "sometimes the things you don't want to talk about are the things you need to talk about most."

true. very true. i'm not much of a talker in reality, but i thought this could be my space to vent, to talk, to get rid of some of the demons. but it's so much harder than i thought. i don't if there's some kind of boundary i'm not meant to overstep. my posts on here range from the everyday talking about films, to the emotional heartwrench that i try to hide up or just fail to accurately write about because i let myself get caught up in the emotion. i don't know if by writing about the things that eat away at me i might alienate people. or what if people i know read it? what then?

so what's the answer? start a new blog? an anonymous one?
say fuck it all and write about it on here, where i suppose i might at least get some answers?

can anyone tell me?

the life you save may be your own

not so nice incident at liverpool street station last night waiting for one of the last tubes home after adam's b'day party. perverted man. i vented here.

so i jumped on the first train that turned up, a circle line, and got off at kings cross to wait for the h'smith & city line. a girl sat down next to me on the bench, looking like she was trying not to cry. then she was crying, quietly, to herself - the way you do if you can't help crying in public. she worried me, and i almost checked what was wrong, but something - that kind of unwritten rule about not talking to people on public transport, or that innate sense of britishness whereby you seem to ignore public emotion - made me stop. i was going to ask her when we got on the tube but she got on one carriage and i got on another. i could still see her through the carriage windows and she was still really upset and it was hurting me to watch her, so a few stops down the line i just got up and went to the next carriage and sat down next to her and asked her if she was okay.

she said her heart had just been wrenched out, proper heartbreak, but it was her own fault. i tried to tell her it wasn't. it was really upsetting me. i don't know why i overempathise so much. it's weird. emotionally numb, just feel others' pain or something too much. i just chatted to her till edgware roadwhere she got off to get the circle line round to sloane square. i apologised for breaking the unwritten tube law about talking to people and she said it was fine, it was actually quite refreshing that someone gave a damn or whatever.

i remember back in february, after that guy harrassed me all the way on the district line then followed me off the train, how relieved i was to hear a human voice when that guy asked me if i was okay or whatever. it's like - i don't know, just someone reaching out or whatever. i couldn't just let her sit like that the whole time on the tube. even if it wasn't for her, i needed to do it for myself because it was upsetting to see her, and i would have felt like such a shit if i hadn't.

i've just noticed i tend to lose coherence and any ability to write properly when writing about something emotional. strange.

and on another note, you'd have thought that having deleted someone's mobile number from my mobile's phonebook would be enough to make me realise the relationship is probably dying if not dead. but no, it needs for me to have re-entered the fucking number then to re-fucking-delete it for me to maybe think this is finally it. fucking idiot. i don't know why i give people so many chances. people that i love, i mean. it's a shame. the friendship was taken for granted. maybe because i was upset by that among other things, maybe that's why i went and talked to the girl. but maybe if she got off the train just feeling only 0.01% better because someone acknowledged her, then i guess that's a good thing.

oh, and look. it's friday 13th today.

make it so

or, things i learnt from art departmenting, part 3:

17. j seems to have been a jedi in a former life. obi wan hattobi or something. (heyyy, goes nicely with the hanalita-solo name i got...)
18. to "cut in" does not mean drive in front of someone rudely, it means to paint carefully around the edge of things such as windowsills, plugs, sockets and the edge of walls. i cannot be trusted to do the latter.
19. before this, i didn't even know what a valence was, let alone own two of them
20. windsor is quite a sweet town but i wouldn't live there, despite the grand castle
21. slough is definitely *not* a sweet town and i certainly wouldn't live there for all the tea in china
22. B&Q trollies are absolute arses to push around
23. i defintely can't wear those jeans again for anything other than painting
24. i need to find a job that is as satisfying and enjoyable (in its own way) that i can get paid for. twenty quid away from the overdraft. eek.

(part one and part two )