Friday, November 22, 2013

Every amateur writer is fed with the ideology of this cliche- you're successful, you can pay for your branded and high street vintage ensemble by writing your way out, about life altering experiences, by sitting outside a coffee shop, soaking in the winter sun. I'm currently living the dream. The TV Show we are producing as a part of my semester end project is lying on hold since we are dragging it out will the end of the month. I am, meanwhile, ensuring I don't waste any second of the day being upset about the closures I have been served with, in the last one month or so. I'd be lying straight if I were to say that I didn't see any of this coming. It's strangely comfortable to wake up one morning and recollect the events of the night before which involved accusations and crying over the death of what two people had. Misanthropic self just high-fived me from the other side of the screen. Welcome back, Grinch.

This week has been relatively relaxed since it involved post-production, which implies it didn't involve me since my team believes that they're good enough for editing themselves. The harmony is clearly missing and the balance is truly out of it's place. There is yelling, blaming and simply putting this all on the situation where one could say that this is only because of working excessively under severely difficult circumstances. Hurdles or not, this semester is wrapping up into a big fat pus on my arm, which I need to cut. Cannot reiterate how badly I would like a vacation, even if it means getting rid of phone and internet. That would be a vacation in itself. Christmas wishlist (Grinch fail) reads out noise cancelling headphones and that would be all.

Change of scene to pursue the writing on this blog is doing wonders. It's serving clarity, while I am able to borrow new perspective. I have grown up in this area, with school around, this place carries bittersweet memories and associations that haven't been snapped just yet which makes this a perfect destination to hide out and pour my mind on keyboard. Besides, it's just hipster cool to sit around with 15 inch MacBook Pro as a director of television show which will be everything but me, and that will make it fucking awesome. Atleast I'd like to believe so.

In the last two/three weeks I have been on mind-numbing film shoot which had glitches that were beyond any help. Camera battery dying out without any replacement leads to cancellation of shoot. Internal disputes about the choice of talent and selection for the same comes next as does not having enough faith on your fellow team-mate to let them do the camera. Idiocracy combines with bad judgement and that brings us to same sort of set up as it was available in school. Essentially, anything that doesn't interest them, doesn't beget their attention. This television project is my baby, however, having multiple set of parents is destroying it's sanctity. No sort of concrete contribution is coming and that's why I am in a perennial PMS trip. Or, how SPP defines this, "You're a dick, but in the dick-atlas, you're a Japanese." Let's just say that this is hard, managing uninterested smart blokes. Managing dumbfucks is easy enough, managing uninterested colleagues isn't difficult but this combination of thinking talent is lethal. They should all be exterminated or be kept away.

At a personal level too, I have made up my mind that there needs to be a change of attitude in conducting myself. My last stint with an external faculty member who conducted a lecture on talent management resulted in a sentence that stuck around my head, " be a documentary film-maker you need to be a son of a bitch." Don't want to be a documentary film maker but don't mind being that son of a bitch now that the time is conducive.

Welcome to 2007, the cynical, uptight bitch is back.

More, later.

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