Ok, so the shooting is over.

It turned out pretty good, I'd say. The battle scene was really fun, we had some AK death, execution-style, we had people trying to beat other people with sticks, we had Lightsabres, and it was really fun. And death, death, death. Perhaps not the most realistic death ever, but death, nonetheless. This weekend we have to finish the mixdown and turn it all in. I hope we win, I heard the other ones really sucked this year. But the judges still got bribed really well, and I think they'll be fine, even if the movies really do suck.

Too cold! Filming was horrible! The cold kept making me forget my lines and want to quit, or get it over with as quickly as possible. And then I heard people talking about how the script sucked and the film was awful. Well maybe, fuckers, had you taken the damned time to help with the script instead of jacking off with the other morons outside making signs that were all torn down just yesterday, then the script and film could have aspects that you would like in it! Personally, they have absolutely NO right to complain, and it BURNS me to even think they could sit with such smugness in their infallibilities, never reasoning that the root of the problem could be in themselves.

I don't think everyone is stupid. O wait, I lied.

The time draws closer, friends. Only three more periods and we get to start shooting "OPERATION PHILLIPI". I'm way excited, trying to keep all the lines in my head right now.

Wish me luck.

Today is "Be Silent for the Gay and Straight Alliance" Day. If you actually believe that gay people, in fact, need this special rite, then by all means, why not be silent for the next 24 hours. And if you're like me and think that they're people just like everyone else, then laugh at the people that are being silent and talk your ass off. Either way, it's a day.

I get to dress up and shoot people and talk like a redneck today. What a suprise that it all happens in last period.

Fareyouwell.

The day begins again.

It's looking to be an ambiguous day. Last night was fun, I played Chrono Cross for about an hour for lack of anything else to do, went upstairs, hit the lights, and knew no more.

Well, I talked to my dad first, and he helped to alleviate some of that emotional distress I was talking about yesterday. My dad's a good guy, he can't do anything but justify my problems, which, I tell myself, is just teaching me that all the wrong directions I'm taking in my life are the right ones; but somehow I'm able to get his real message and things turn out better. It seems like his old girlfriend, the one that made me all screwed up last year, has started talking to him seriously, and he told me some vaguely suprising stuff. That he still cares for her in the way he did before, he says not much has changed since he talked to her last. At the same time, it's not a surprise, considering how involved they were, despite that relationship's brevity. At the same time, she's married, but I speculate she has the same feelings. It's causing my dad some undue distress; and that little segment only took two of the thirty minutes, which can tell you how much we can talk about in a short time.

Time for me to go.

Had a heart attack and died.

Well, I cut the bottom of the yard today, and the mower stalled about seven times, but after much undue toil and effort, I was able to get it done, albeit poorly. Afterwards, something in my head called me to go for a run, which I did; after the first lap, however, I tripped up the drive and slammed into the door, took a bit of the great ambrosial raspberry drink, sat outside, and recovered. It was a nothing-doing day thereafter.

Something vaguely troubling happened today. God, I hate dealing with these emotional struggles.

Thieves.

It came to pass that after seeing Phone Booth with a few friends on Saturday, I went to a the best take-out Chinese restaurant in Nashville, Hunan Express, where I got a Hunan-style beef and two egg rolls. But that's besides the point. As I was driving home, my dad beside me and I at the wheel, I drove by "the car".

This car has been sitting here since two summers ago. It's an old blue car, it looks sort of like the Shelby from Gone In Sixty Seconds, and it is in the worst possible position, half-way on the road at the veritable apex of the curve leading to my dad's house. As we drove by, I told my dad my plans for my sixteenth birthday in two months: I'm going to drive the car to the very place I was presently at in that road, take a crowbar, and bash that thing until it was little more than a crushed Pepsi can. Suddenly my dad became very somber while saying, "You could put that to a more practical use," We pulled into the driveway.

As we sat there, he said, "What's different?" After making several guesses about a change to the house, even being so optimistic as to infer that something had been done to the house: he said it was something bad. After further pushing, he told me: someone had stolen my bike.

I didn't ride the bike much, I was going to when I first bought it, but it needed a lot of work and no one was really listening to me when I said as such; plus, this summer gave me little incentive to do so: this of course, is the reason why I didn't notice it at first. Afterward, my dad gave me the speculation that someone had cut the padlock and taken not only the bike, but the broken padlock and chain as well. I was stunned at first, then I was angry, and almost backed out of the drive to start looking: my dad informed me that he had already been doing that since it had been stolen...

But the bigger suprise: it happened while I was in Destin, on Thursday, he even heard it when it happened and disreguarded it. It was a pretty quiet neighborhood, I thought as I walked inside. Of course, to add insult to injury, as we were watching TV that night, a white Cavalier was being pursued by three blazing police cars. My dad and I gave each other a look, whereafter he took his gun from his backpack, unbuttoned the fasten for the holster, put it down on the coffee table, and continued watching our Buffy the Vampire Slayer second season on DVD, woot!

That is a pretty good show, by the way.

Which is better: to be optimistic, or to be realistic? Optimism for comfort, realism for reality. Is reality such a good thing? Is it even necessary anymore? Humanity subverts its reality with TV and video games, with the Internet, they subvert their love with pornography, they subvert their beliefs with the good guys in the movie, they are serial murderers with a license to kill, they are puppeteers with the right to control humans as they see fit. It really leaves one to wonder if the world should be entirely optimistic, because, truly, their is no more reality to address.

We can make our own now, anyway.