Trompé Setsuled (setsuled) wrote,
Trompé Setsuled
setsuled

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FAIL

Hola. Another nice day of writing yesterday. I went to a coffee shop called The Living Room and wrote five pages in a few hours that I'm even happier with than the previous day's. The only trouble is, at seventeen pages now, this thing feels like it's just getting started. So I think this'll probably end up being a mini-series. I'll have the first issue done by Valentine's Day, but I'm not sure I consider this a Valentine's Day special anymore.

This script has been good for working off a lot of aggression I don't seem to have any other outlet for. Incidentally, in case anyone's wondering about the issue that prompted me to leave Live Journal briefly in December, one of the reasons I felt comfortable returning was because I stopped feeling remotely sorry for how I acted on sovay's journal. I'd only really felt sorry for insulting strangers, but I suspect all of those strangers have completely forgotten about me, and that, at the time, all I managed to accomplish in regards to them is to make myself look like an idiot and/or jerk, which I don't mind at all. I'm definitely not sorry about talking like that to sovay. That girl was a colossal jerk to me. No one seems to be able to offer a better explanation. The closest was robyn_ma, who suggested perhaps I accidentally said something that made sovay think I was a stalker. I neglected to mention that I have sovay's home address, and if the only moderate amount of e-mails I'd sent her hadn't already proved to her I'm not a stalker, the fact that I wasn't mailing her dead rodents--or anything at all--ought to've confirmed it. If I'm a stalker, I'm of the tamest possible breed. And it's hardly adequate explanation for her, after treating me like a friend for two years, to suddenly treat me like I'm scum. There are only two explanations; she's either a moron or a jerk. I know she's not a moron, which leaves the latter conclusion. And I still don't think it's unreasonable for me to expect one of our mutual friends to say to her, "Hey, stop treating setsuled like that." But I'm continually made aware these days of just where I stand on the totem pole, and as a liberal, I find hierarchies chafe.

And no, in case anyone's wondering, I'm not going to try talking to her again. I'm a forgiving guy, believe it or not. But friendships with people who're unable to admit they make mistakes is too steep a hill for me to climb.

Last night I watched Curse of the Cat People, which I'd avoided watching for a long time because I figured it wouldn't hold a candle to its predecessor, Cat People. It's indeed not as good as the first film, but it is actually quite wonderful in its own right. It's actually a completely different kind of movie, having more to do with family psychology and the function of dreams. It had great mood.
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