I admire writers. I am in awe of their ability to communicate ideas and feelings; as I am extremely clumsy when it comes to doing these things. I read a lot of blogs and think ‘oh that looks easy’ and then fall flat on my ass. I have a giant file full of posts that I’ll never publish because quite frankly they suck eggs.

I was excited to see Spike Jonze win best screenplay at the golden globes because I felt like his film somehow conveyed so many complicated things at once, and in a way that will mean a lot to many different people. I have read over and over again people say that this movie is one of their top five movies of all time; how it touched them and changed their views on love and relationships and how people interact. It’s truly amazing.

I wish I had a fraction of that talent for sharing feelings and moving others. I was thinking recently that if I were writing a novel or movie it would be one of those dull affairs that people walk out of (or quit reading); or maybe they would push to the end only to find out that everyone dies and the bad guy wins. I’m not feeling the hope and warmth and love that I crave when I read a novel or watch a film. Yeah, I love me some monster movies, too, but even they tend to have an uplifting message once you get past the exploding bridges and piles of bodies. Well, sometimes.

Today has been shit, a real Monday in every way, and about all I can do is bury myself under the covers and hope to sleep and try again tomorrow. Now a real writer could have turned that sentence into a few paragraphs or a fantasy piece starring a little engine that could. That ain’t me. Good night.