I'm set dressing, handling some props, and with each day learning more and more what I can take, and what I cannot.
side note: I don't feel human when I'm not writing.
I think some people are wondering my age...kinda funny. Happens all the time. Most of time they're off the mark by 10 years, which explains so much. But I drop a few hints, a few years this or that happened. Eyebrows arch, another number hits the brain. I remain silent.
Funny.
But this set dressing/props thing. I have to see it through till the end. My mind isn't made up about how I feel, which is more telling than anything else. I know I need consistency, I know that much. And this world is far from consistent.
Day 7
Lots of legs and hands on set, scattered order, sometimes disorder. Words fly, communication failure in moments, tension builds, a light breaks, missed lines, clean up carnage, knee caps bloody. The set is Hot. "Don't just stand there" "Quiet on set!"
Day 7 Over
I have more to go. Met some wonderful people, amazing people. Some not so amazing. Such is life. Meh.
side note: Boys definitely live in an alternate universe. A Man Channel few women are tuned into to. When you catch a clear reception, you have to lean back, wondering if you heard correctly ...seriously, did I just hear that?
In the days after more will be clear. I'll have a pocket of time to write. Nestle in Starbucks, live the dream. Cast biting words aside. Have drinks with friends, maybe ice cream with new friends, and be human once again.
