Real Cheese and Smoked Salmon.  A glass of wine after a long week, unwinding in a relaxing way.  Come on and try it, babe.

Gathering myself together again, picking up the pieces one by one.  I’ve never felt so much love than I have right now.  I’ve never been loved as I have been right now.  I’ve  never given love as I have been doing recently.  I’ve never felt more unsure of the human race than I have been watching the news… it’s about time for me to write this script.

I’ll start with each story as one entity, unrelated to one another – completely seperate in tone and subject matter from the others.  Where to start?  It’s been so long since I’ve written anything… damn… The robbery.

Wow, these lyrics are really sexy. I managed to listen to the entire song without stopping it, and I believe it was worth it. I had never heard that one before, but I quite enjoyed it. Didn’t know where it was going, but I’m glad I listened to it in its entirety.

But how was it that she said, “Bye” to me that made me reconsider what the implied meaning meant. “Goodbye” in the usual sense, as in, “I’ll see you later,” or “Bye” but stressing the “ii” and ending it in a tiny lilt. I’ll never know. We were both on the same plane at one point, but I’m not sure if I will ever make my way back into that galaxy again any, any, nowhere nigh time soon…

But things change, seasons rearrange, you meet someone in a new light on a day you didn’t expect to see them, and everything is fresh. Fresh, but with implied memory of that person. The last time you saw them suddenly comes back into replay, and you remember what her last impression of you was… and you reconsider depending on the positive and the negative. You got nothing to lose, you got everything to gain.

Some good music.

Seems I can’t stop looking for videos of music because that’s all I want to share: music and images.

I think I should start drawing some more Number Man comics, too.

What is it that you fear?  Is it success?  Is it change?  Is it uncertainty?  Is it love?  Is it death?

There’s a lot of drama going on in this school.

After a long night he woke up in bed feeling an overwhelming sense of confusion.  “Who did I talk to last night?  Where was I?  Did I really hit on that cougar with a hand-puppet?”  The pressure, and the pain from giving growing deeper seemed to disappear as he read of the adventures of “Rusty the Boy Robot and The Big Guy.”

He didn’t remember the events of the night so much as he remembered the feeling of knowing the events of the night before.  It was Halloween and he was someone else.  Everyone was trying to figure out who he was underneath the mask, it was a game to him to let the people go about with confused faces, and when he revealed himself they said, “That’s just like you Geoff, weird and not responsive.”  That kept him thinking the entire night.

“Not responsive?  What the hell does that mean?  Am I not responsive?  But in what way?  I react to people, I talk back when I’m talked to… I think.  Did I call you?  What did we talk about?  Really?  I was that drunk that I was asking you what your bra size was?  Geez… “

What will he do now?  The day has already begun, and time is running away.  Time is moving at a snail’s pace, indeed, but it’s still creeping over him like all of the regrets he has kept and bottled and set aside in a room to observe and fawn over.  “Geometry, History, organization, 2d… quit smoking, exercise more, the doctor told you to quit drinking and I think he was right in that respect that I should stop drinking because it’s really hurting my body and making me feel more depressed than I have ever been.  Last night was the last night I was drinking, I drank for the last time last night.  No more, please.  Please, I don’t want anymore.  It’s too much for me to handle and I don’t like it anymore.  It’s killing me, I’m dying because of it.  No more.”

These are his only thoughts.

Went to the visit the doctor today. I was reassured that I was still alive and with a pulse to show for it. They told me the usual things: stop smoking, drink less, do you have your depression under control? Well, Geoff, the alcohol will certainly not help your symptoms any.

I know, I know.

The driver – he works on spec for either side. The hoodlum (bum fresh outta the joint) is looking to go in on a score so he can buy back the family farm. The bartender meets a lady well beyond his league, but she likes him and they form an inseparable bond. He wants to get into the drug business because that’s where the money and the power is. She knows a lot of people connected in just that business. Her sister went missing a few days ago, and she’s hired a private investigator to track her down. The P.I. is old and in the way when he gets the job, but he takes it to keep himself busy. The P.I. buys drugs from a group of dealers independent of the ring controlled by the city’s syndicate mafia. The independent dealers fill the P.I. in on what’s happening around town related to the drug business, and that there’s word a big score going down very soon from sources outside of the continental united states. The P.I. searches for the missing girl.

[a meth-addicted army veteran thinks he has found gold in his back yard, so he starts digging to find more.]

The hoodlum hooks up with a gang of bank robbers and pulls off a series of successful heists. Soon enough the syndicate catches wind of these heists, and corners the gang into working for them – splitting the take 50/50. The gang of robbers continue stealing money from banks, and the syndicate continues earning cash all the while denying to the police any connection with the marauding.

[The vet has dug a 15 ft. hole in his back yard in order to mine the "gold."]

She is introducing him to all of the notorious figures in the underground crime world, and in turn he is articulating his aspirations for making this city the drug capitol of the united states. With each new score he makes, for every new connection made, he gets closer and closer to bringing in more than enough attention to quench the dry spell of the streets. She supports him, she is the strong woman, she gives him all of the love he would ever need, and he begins to parrot her speech. Soon he is doing everything she wants him to for sex, but does he ever make a name for himself? Does he ever rely not on her advice, but on the strength of his own intuition? Is someone else influencing his next move?

The driver is hired for a job: pick up a group of three outside of a restaurant, downtown, nine o’clock. Drive said three to the North East side, a switch off has been arranged. No questions asked.

The P.I. is on the trail of the missing girl, and in the process he is reminded of an incident long ago when he was a detective on the police force: a girl went missing for three days and was found slaughtered in a warehouse. A fifteen-year old boy had kidnapped the girl, tied her hands, gagged her mouth, then holed up in an abandoned warehouse where he sexually molested her, eventually killing and disassembling her body.

All events are leading up to the big deal. The P.I. is getting closer to finding the girl. The gang is tiring of having to split the take from their successes to the syndicate, and are about to break apart from their contract. The police are moving in closer to finding the location of the gang’s hideout. The independent dealers have had a man on the inside for a while, and now they have enough information to score in on the deal. The veteran decides to steal an army tank and drive it through the city.

All words (C)Geoffrey Nel Thomas, 2009

These are just some ideas I have floating around in my head about the next script I am going to write. It’s interesting to note that most of these ideas have been used in some way or another in different scripts of mine completely unrelated to each other. I’m finding a way to connect and reuse my old stories / past ideas. Just goes to show you that any idea, be it good or bad, is always useful to have.

My mind is overloading with sex. You know that scene in Lola Rennt where she runs into someone, and instantaneously a series of polaroid pictures appears showing the next few scenes in that person’s life. That’s how my vision is whenever I see a woman. I see a woman, and instantly we’re fucking, and she’s saying, “give it to me, yeah, fuck that pussy hard,” and then I go on about my business with a sense of accomplishment. Perhaps it’s the combination of watching too much porn (which, really, I don’t think is such a bad thing) and my growing curiosity / communication with the opposite sex, that is leading my brain to be consumed with lustful desires.

Sweated it out, reclaimed my conscience, and went on about my business with school and work. I’m getting an A- in 2D/Digital Design; C in 3D Design; A in Art History; from what I can gather, a passing grade in Visual Geometry; A in Drawing I; A in Orientation to Art & Design. I am disappointed with my grade in 3D Design, if only because I am not trying my hardest to produce some quality work deserving of a better grade. I didn’t decide to come back to school in order to receive mediocre grades – I should have all A’s, because I know I can get all A’s. My work should not be crap, because I don’t want it to be crap, and I know I can do better than I am allowing myself. One of my teachers warned me that what frequently happens around this time of year in the semester students begin to slack off and let their grades slip. Their work gets sloppier, and some don’t even turn in assignments. They allow their positive grades to turn sour and fester in a swamp of apathy and laziness.

But I have received some sound advice from juniors and seniors at the school, and from what they tell me it only gets better. That the more you are involved in what you want to be doing rather than doing what is mandatory for your foundation in art education, the less likely you are to slack off, because you are enjoying it. So far I’ve been enjoying school – safe to say this is first damn time, too. I didn’t come back to school to quit again, and I didn’t come back to school to find a girl, and I didn’t come back to school to slack off and become lazy, and I didn’t come back to school to continue my drinking and smoking habits. I’m here to learn, and I’m here for a second chance (make that third chance) – to tell you the truth I’d rather be in here than out there again. Maybe it’s because I’m learning new things and have been becoming a more rounded individual with a multi-faceted character and intellect that I am feeling so refreshed and enlightened by the people I am surrounded by.

Sometimes I am annoyed by the girls who seem to think that they are nothing without a boyfriend, and I remind myself that they will soon learn that their thinking is not true. They will soon learn what everyone else learns: that life moves fast, but it’s not over yet.

First time I saw this movie I was not high, I was fuckin’ blazed.

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