“She is a living fire, she is a reason to live, she is killing me burning only for him, I’ll spend my whole life loving her, my heart exploding words,” -from “Our Love” by Rhett Miller (Miller)
Just going to toss it out there: every time I listen to Rhett Miller sing the words above, I think about Erica Smith and the time she showed up at my apartment after Cynthia’s work fundraiser in her amazing blue dress, that matched her amazing blue eyes. We made out a bunch, and through no fault of our own, ended up spending the night on my couch. It was amazing.
That being said, Rhett’s words also channel an idea I have had for a while. It’s a screenplay about a film set where everyone is somehow lovingly or lustfully linked to everyone else. From my short time in LA and the stories I have heard from Omar, this isn’t entirely out of the ordinary, but MY script would be hilarious. MY script would be heartfelt. MY script would capture the hearts, loins, and minds of…probably just me.
That being said, with the happy ending for that script being happy only because it’s ending, can we have happy endings (besides at a massage parlour)? Endings don’t really exist in life until we die and even then, unless every single living thing we ever knew hated us and forgets us, death isn’t even an ending. Though I wouldn’t really know, because I think I’m still alive.
That being said, the only reason I came back to Toronto was because I didn’t want to have an ending at all. I wanted to keep my LA life going. Clearly, it couldn’t continue with the booze, self-loathing, and the failing relationship with Erica, but coming back here doesn’t have to be an ending. It could be though if I don’t go back.
That being said, I often wonder who Rhett was thinking about when he wrote those words. Is there a woman he will really spend his whole life loving? Is that possible? Am I capable of that? I walk around like I think I am. I write more shit about love and relationships than anything else, and I just fucked up the one relationship I have wanted to work out since…I can’t remember, but it has been a long time. What the hell do I know? I love Rhett’s lyrics. He wrote more in two lines, and had more impact, than any of the millions of words I have written in my career.
That being said, they only have impact if they speak to you.
That being said, I have and will continue to plod away with this shit. To type it all out. To hope to have an impact. To try to bring some laughter, entertainment, and positivity into the world.
Vonnegut said that every character should want something, even just a glass of water, so I’m going to say I’m parched and that I need a glass of water.
I’m also going to say that every character in my potential script needs a glass of water as well. The writer needs a glass of water and the validation her words won’t be screwed up by the director and the cast. The director needs a scotch and the story board artist needs to deliver on his vision. The female lead needs the audience to interpret her performance as award worthy because she only did the film to win something. The male lead needs to stop sleeping with the executive producer, because the next film he is producing is with the producer’s wife. The story editor needs to stop trying to fit the plot into his same, familiar box of nostalgic, historical fiction, because it is set in the modern day. The agent for both leads needs to stop ogling the on-set masseuse because she is on the verge of a meltdown at the inanity of “Hollywood.”
I need to get that glass of water and stop writing so many empty words. Unless they explode, they are not worth it.