One Week Later...

Jack entered the church and found all the people that meant the most to him in his life waiting there for him, and they were all having the same experience as him.  They were all hugging.  Jack and Sawyer hugged.  And when the church doors opened and Jack’s eye closed, my phone started vibrating.  Mach, Dustin and Seizer all texted me.  Sean and Hope called me.  Luther, Tess and I sat there in silence.  My dad asked me, “did it work?”  He’s a casual fan, has seen maybe four episodes of the show total.  He’s not asking if Jack’s plan worked or if Smokey’s plan worked.  He’s asking if the ending worked as an ending.  Some of my friends liked the ending a lot, some didn’t like it a lot but the thing is, one of the cool things about Lost I didn’t realize until the end is that it was something I shared with many of the people who are important to me.  I experienced a similar moment of unexpected connection in my life at the same moment that Jack did on the show.  And just like Jack, it was hard for me to let go.  I told my friends, and they all agreed, that I didn’t want to talk about it, though I’d been expecting to jabberjaw all night with them about it.  It was something I had to process and then let go.  And that, frankly, is a sign that the finale was also much more powerful than I had anticipated.  I was literally in another state for an hour afterward, happy to be sharing this moment with people I love, sitting silently on my futon with a smile on my face and not even paying attention to the 10 o’clock news on the TV.

Heavy Hands...Summer edition

I shot two more scenes in the general ww area.

one was with local actor and story teller Jim Winship. he was good.

one was with milwaukee director Frankie Latina. He was good.

Parker (jim's son) has kind of been running the camera for most of the shoots that i am in.

I also just got a leading lady for the first section.

I'm getting down there for rolls of film so i need to capture a few things before i send everything in for development. Also its getting hot as shit and i want to cut my hair. i have to wait to do this as well.

going good
lovesean

SCHOOL IS OUT!!!!

i finished all my work for the semester. so that means heavy hands will be in full swing for the SUMMER!

Now to get more money coming in, which means a ANOTHER JOB!...wait i'm not excited about that...Oh well.

muchlovesean

Heavy Hands

i finished re-writing the first section so i will be good to complete said section after monday when im done with school. and this and that and this and that.

if anyone knows a leading female or old people let me know. worldwidedirt@gmail.com

lovesean

people in need

my name isn't  haiti people in need: children of tomorrow, by the way
that is a result of many twists and turns of my life
including a limited knowledge of web servers, fullbright scholarships,
heart surgery complications, obsessive love (2 cases of this causing 2 people to do crazy things)
i'll stop there to examine this
i had a boss, we'll just call her j. johnson to protect her identity,
and she was a very sweet lady but also a little insane
she loved a man and obsessed about him constantly
every time the phone rang she said "it's jeff" and it wasn't
she thought he was listening to us or watching us with surveillance gizmos in our office
she hated every woman he ever talked to, especially those he was close with
and even suspected him of secretly siring a baby that we all knew
which was all odd paranoid bullshit
jeff went to haiti a day or two after the earthquake
and she went after him, even tried to convince me to stay at the hotel for an extra two weeks
so that she could go right away, but i just couldn't do it
my mind was made up to leave, i was ready to leave and as miserable as i've ever been in that hotel
so she went because she wanted to be a part of his experience there
though she wanted to help people she wouldn't have gone if he hadn't first
because she was struggling hard to be a part of his life
and i think he might have loved her too, but he wouldn't have shared that with me,
he was more reserved, more like me, he also wore tunics unlike me or anyone else since the 1800's
and i was also, or at least at times it would occur to me that i might be, in love with my friend megan
and i told no one about this except when i half-revealed it to my sister over the phone, probably crying
and i congratulated myself about keeping my obsessive thoughts to myself
i wasn't like jay, i didn't say things like "it's megan" when my phone rang but i always thought it
i always worried that she was closer with other guys than me
went in circles in my mind over and over about what i meant to her, what she meant to me
<"i was made to love her" by stevie wonder is playing on pandora.  i like that song.>
i told my therapist that i was sort of proud of keeping my dignity during this whole situation, never exposing my craziness
and he said he thought that was pretty sad
what a fucking bitch!
i also did something kind of crazy to stay a part of megan's life, probably just about as crazy as flying to haiti during the worst disaster of our age
and people congratulate me for it still and it makes me feel like a piece of shit
"don't" she said once in a completely different context
and i said, "no, i mean because i'm hung over"

she had a girlfriend who had a husband and it made her very sad
she'd say: i know i can't ask for all of her love but i need it
and i'd say: needing someone's love and not being able to ask for it sucks
but i was just writing my life like a hemingway novel anyway
there's nothing dramatic about facing your emotions at their real value or being content
i'm either pretending that everyone reads this blog or that i'm talking to the sky when i say
that i love you all and miss you all very much: denise, doree, jimbo, dave, sandy, darla, sam, megan, scott, sam, scott, jordan, shelly, jennifer, chino, mark, martha, ted, stacy, traci, richard, doug, diane, curt
i don't believe that wherever i go next will treat me as well

there is no sayid!

what did he say?
that i lock them away in capsules while i think my days away
i don't think he said it so lyrically
maybe he didn't say it at all
he hears what he hears and i hear what i hear
and i get a faded polaroid back of myself
reversed one way organically in the lens and reversed again in another for correction
and it prints out and i flap it around while the colors breath into life
and what does it tell me?
that i'm a smart guy, i don't think i'm so smart
that i'm a nice guy, i don't know about that, i've never been put to the test
never been in a sub and the clock's running down on a package of C4
and ran it to the end of the sub to save half my friends
that'd be a way to go, but i'd only enjoy it for a second

i don't know if love's real or if i just don't feel it correctly
i said it bothers me that it doesn't bother me as much anymore,
that i only get a little sad now and then
it troubles me
i saw a guy getting on my plane in anchorage
with sunken eyes and a receding hair line
his polo shirt tucked into his pants,
staring at nothing, looking content
and i thought he had no love in his life

this guy told me he cried during the blind side
and i said what's happening to me at that moment will make me cry
when i'm moved by a movie, but not the movie itself
i cried during inglourious basterds and then went to
a christmas carol and cried during almost the whole thing,
hot continuous tears
why would somebody care enough to lie to me about loving me
if they didn't love me?
maybe that's the wrong question
it makes me a shitty writer to not understand why anyone does anything they do
not understand what makes me sad or nervous or angry at any moment
very mysterious it all is
this isn't a poem i just realized
none of this is poetry, the words are uninspired
i'm just too lazy to put in proper capitalization and punctuation,
poor sean's got real things to say and this monster post is gonna sink
his way down the page

on this cinco de mayo, here are the things that happen:
helping my friend cheat through school,
but remembering what school was really like and procrastinating all day
i'm writing this instead of doing the work right now
my therapist and i spent at least half the hour talking about movies and tv
like that's what i need more of in my life
sean sent me a text to come to milwaukee, which sounds good but exhausting for some reason
although i can get free white russians i think
i'm engaging in my recent habit of drinking coffee at night
because i feel i didn't get enough out of the day as it was
need another cup and i'll be right back!
mmmmm that's good
today i'm wearing sky blue slacks
today i have one dollar in my pocket and it's not mine
today i made skillet mac and cheese that tasted bland, but it's usually a good dish when i make it
i'm listening to al green's recording of "unchained melody" on pandora, which makes me like the song
today i'm into rockabilly, something i used to think i hated, this guy hasil adkins in particular
today i was also touched in some way by "in the midnight hour" by wilson picket, "tell it like it is" by the neville brothers and "tongue tied" by wanda jackson
no, i'm not familiar with anything recorded in the last thirty years
i don't think i've ever met someone named wanda
i should use it as a character name
she'll be a spontaneous bi-polar full of life girl
who rescues a depressed but handsome young man from young man melancholy
and she'll be played by lizzy caplan from party down

and i am one step closer to salvation, i think i always am
but the funny thing is that the only people who think they're saved
are the ones everybody else thinks is crazy
so to be saved is to be adrift of reality and everything i feel is important to me
all is vanity until you realize that all is vanity
or so i heard on a tv show
here's something else i heard on a tv show: "i wish you believed me"
ain't that the tooth?

psifyouclickthepictureyougettowatchacoollittlemovie

Its Time Ya'll - Heavy Hands

So i finished a couple of rolls of film and as soon as school is done in a week or two i'll get crazy and start shooting a lot more scenes for Heavy Hands. I also got access to a new camera which is totally sweet.

I'm going to shoot the first ten minutes or so and then put that together best i can before i continue with the next part. Also i need to lose a bit of weight for the second part.

Things are good. I got punched last week.

In the Morning Downtown

It was this morning at six thirty or so that I dreamt that me and my girlfriend, Jenna Fischer, were visiting her house in northern Connecticut or New York or some other place I hadn't been. She put her head beneath my arm and smiled and I did the same and there was no disappointment between us. We must have been together for a while at that point. We were as calm as the snow and soapy water that swept up on the deck below us.

And it wasn't too long after, in the real world, that I scratched a scab on the back of my head from last week and looked at the green floor tile in the room downtown. I read the name tags our teacher had set out and tried to remember what was on them until I realized I was capable of imagining much better.

So he's pacing back and forth in a yellow checkered shirt and khakis that his wife bought, or somebody’s wife bought and tries to justify the court order of a twenty hour class. He tells us all that it’s ok to drink and that, in fact her has, which I can see in the busted veins in his face and the way that the fat on the back of his head and canvas belt breaks my heart every time I look up at him.

He tells us a story (too loud mind you) about how the police drug him home on his daughter’s birthday. This cop was a student of his years before and made the call to take him home instead of prison, which seems like a lucky break. And as he talks about the pressure he feels because his students wanted him to stay and drink at the bar (high school students) I wonder where the story is going. I look to my left and one of two girls in the class, the one who looks guilty and ashamed, looks back at me and grimaces, like someone was always about to punch her. I understand.

The video is on anyway and he moves us to the back of the room and I know about Texas and all the things that are wrong with drunk driving laws. I know all about Jack Hampton and Candice Lightner and the Texas lawyer who won’t cast a shadow. I know about the man who punches something beneath him and wonders how someone could wipe out his family like that.

To end the day the man talks about his friend who asked if he still taught all those drunks. And then he says blah, blah, blah and everyone laughs but I can't because it’s not funny. Instead I hold my breath, rub my head, think about Jenna Fischer and try to wonder about anything. Anything at all.