Kat asked, “What do you want to do with it?” and even though I had toyed with some ideas, it still felt strange to say them out loud.
“I don’t know, Direct it maybe. Act, maybe…I don’t know, direct it?” I said.
I had just offered up the first pages of my screenplay for critique. Of all the comments I anticipated, that was not one of them. And it gave me pause.
What do I want to do with it?
I ended it by attempting something decisive, “ Direct it in 3 to 5 years.” But my lack of conviction was embarrassingly apparent.
If life were wishes, and that somehow I was impervious to stress, that I could think clearly and decisively, that jealousy and ego didn’t dwell within, perhaps I could do it. If I could sweep away the emotional blocks I so carefully build and place in my way, perhaps I could do it. If I believed in myself like others do, if I could see myself as others do, perhaps, perhaps…