A smile. A hand shake. Or just a look. Sometimes, this is all it takes.
There is this cool guy that comes around once in a while. He has talked to me once in a while, and it's a really cool guy. A little nerdy, somewhat cool, maybe a geek, I don't know, but he always comes, says hello, smiles at me, and walks away. I respect people who do that. I love when people I don't know come to me and start a conversation. You don't see that so often these days.
Sometimes, when people approach me, I tend to give them some unusual backstory. I don't know if it's because I read too many comic books, or if that's what every writer does, but I entertain myself in figuring out the person with what little he or she says.
There is something... magical about doing what you love.
Yesterday, I woke up at 4:30AM, drove about 3 hours, filmed two scenes that took about 7 hours and drove 4 hours back to my house, getting into my bed around 11:30PM to wake up today to go to work at 9AM.
Sounds insane, but I don't regret any second of it.
I prefer doing this for the rest of my life than have a desk job at a company where I'll get bored out of my mind, going through papers, phone calls, moody people and more papers. There is something fulfilling everytime I go over all the footage I took on a shooting day and see it's great.
Most of the time, I'm sleep deprived, but it makes me happy. Most of the time I'm working on multiple projects at the same time and I want to pull my hair or scream out loud, but I'm happy. Sometimes I whine about how much work I have or how little sleep I get, but at the end of the day, I go to bed with a smile on my face.
I love what I do, and although it's not perfect, I'm not looking for perfect.
Happiness is not perfection. Happiness is knowing what you want, and enjoy every single second you have doing what you love. And if you don't know what you love? Well, the journey does not end there. Keep going, that you will get somewhere. The goal is not the thrilling part, it's the journey. It's sounds awfully cliche, but it's the truth.
This month, I've been... somewhat productive:
- I rewrote Looking For Paradise, which will get published on Naked Acts, the school's screenwriting journal.
- I'm in the middle of producing/shooting my Senior Seminar, a short film called Ashes.
- I started a new untitled screenplay.
- I'm working on a graphic novel.
- I added close to ten pictures to my photography portfolio.
Am I being egocentric? Or am I being selfish? I don't know. I just know that I want things to work. I want things to happen, so I decide to make it happen.
Because seeing things happening make me happy.
Everytime I come back to New Hampshire, I take a walk on the woods. Close to my apartment, there is a railroad. At first I thought it was an old railroad because... well, it seems abandoned. Supposedly, there is a train that passes there everyday. I've been living in here for over two years, and I haven't heard it once.
This gave my imagination something to wander about.
There is a railroad in my backyard, guarded by trees and autumn leaves. On first sight, there's nothing more than old and rusted metals. No one walks around it. Some say it's haunted, others don't mind it. But everyone knows.
Close to midnight, the clocks freeze, time stops for a whole minute. Only those who wait for it, realize this. In that minute, the stars shine. The soft hissing of the whistle comes to the ear as sudden as wind. With every second it comes closer and closer. That's when a red and black train travels in time through those railroads.
For a whole minute.
If you stay in the woods at midnight, and plan carefully your escape, you can hop into the train of memories and time traveling.
