When I last had my hair cut back in late March/early April, I decided to start taking a photo of my stupid face every day, in order to eventually create an elaborate timelapse chronicling the growth of my hair.
I meant to do it for longer, but there came a point where I just kind of tapered off.
In any case, here is my first attempt at this timelapse experiment (with an added ZIP file containing all the separate photographs, should anyone need such a resource for remixing this, should anyone want to remix this).
There are two kinds of people in this world: those who are younger and want to have sex no matter how tired they are and those who are older and no matter how horny they are they just want to sleep.
Not sure where to put this, but when I saw AndreiDoubleJ's easier to remix, RECord the idea just hit me. Took awhile to get the animation pieces just right (since I'm at work and can only use PowerPoint!), but I'm hoping to maybe add some sounds.
I'm thinking at the end it would be the sounds an LP makes when it's at the end of the album side...that repetitive kind of thumping. =]
Anyway, let me know where you think it should go and I'll put it there. Hey, I mean on the site!!! ;)
When I saw the tiny clearing in cerebis' "In the forest of Urth" I knew what I had to do...yes, look for a tiny house!
Thanks to belcath1981's "Outside grandma's house" and, of course, transparent24 for the awesome and soothing "Autumn Thoughts".
I'm still working on my skills, so it's still a little rough on the transitions, but I think I'm getting there! =]
When I was a kid, I was convinced that my real, very rich and very loving, mom and dad one day would barge in and end the social experiment I was put in at birth, and finally come and take me home...
Still waiting... :-)
We feel more.
We see more.
We absorb more.
We adapt more.
We protest more.
We listen more.
We love more.
We hurt more.
We express more.
We live more.
We create more.
We are amplified.
We are Hitrecorders
Lake Como, outside Bergamo, Italy. (Samsung galaxy s2, a couple of days ago. )
"He, or someone extremely looking like him, just swam around the bend over to the left there. I screamed would he just give me a minute for me to elaborate on my fantastic movie script and I know Ingemar Bergman and I talk to him weekly. He, or someone extremely sounding like him, yelled back that Ingemar Bergman is dead, so I shouted that that would partly explain his bad diction. "
If the Internet connection was better here in this place in Italy, I would start a "looking for mr Clooney" collab, where you add pictures and stories of how you look for the famous actor in seemingly bizarre and impossible places. (And never find him, of course, just maybe traces. ;)
If anyone feel like picking up on this idea, feel free!
I normally don't include a preface like this, but in this case I think I have to. Writing a comedic piece about depression is a tricky thing, and the last thing I want to do is trivialize it. My hope is that this is both funny and relatable, particularly to people who have experienced depression.
INT. APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - EVENING
TEXT: Week 1
JAKE, a 20-something, is reading a book and sipping on coffee. Then, a knock at the door. He gets up and answers the door; on the other side stands DEPRESSION, the most bro-ish bro you’ve ever seen.
DEPRESSION: Duuuuuude, ‘sup bra? Jake, it’s been a while…like…too long, dude, too long. Listen, I’m gonna crash here for a while, and don’t worry, I brought a shitload of garlic bread and ice cream.
JAKE: Hello Depression.
DEPRESSION: ‘Sup bra.
Depression lets himself into the apartment, immediately making his way to the kitchen. Jake reluctantly follows.
As Jake turns the corner to the kitchen, he sees that the kitchen counters are stacked with ice cream and garlic bread.
JAKE: Depression, where did all of this come from?!
DEPRESSION: Dude, just chill. Grab a fuck-ton of ice cream and just chill.
LIVING ROOM - WEEK FOUR - NIGHT
TEXT: Week 4
Jake is watching TV with Depression. Jake seems deflated, more lethargic than when we first saw him.
DEPRESSION: Hey, do you remember that time your sister had a stomach ache and you said it was nothing and it turned out to be appendicitis and she almost died?
DEPRESSION: That was insane dude.
JAKE: I mean, I guess/
DEPRESSION: Dude, you know what we haven’t done in forever? Linger over shit from the past. How has it been so long? Let’s fucking linger, man.
JAKE: I don’t know, Depression, I just don’t know. Maybe let’s not?
DEPRESSION: No, dude, we have to. For reals. Like, do you remember this song?
Depression whips out his phone and starts playing a song.
DEPRESSION: Didn’t you get dumped on three separate occasions while this song was playing?
JAKE: Yeah…it was more like two and a half…
DEPRESSION: Bro, that sucks. Let’s listen to it like ten times and talk about how you’ll always be alone.
BEDROOM - WEEK NINE - AFTERNOON
TEXT: Week 9
Jake is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. Depression hangs out on the end of the bed, playing a gameboy.
DEPRESSION: ‘Sup bra?
JAKE: I should get out of bed, but I really don’t want to.
DEPRESSION: Why would you do that? This is fucking amazing.
JAKE: No, it’s really not.
DEPRESSION: Not feeling well?
JAKE: I don’t really feel anything.
DEPRESSION: I bet you feel super self-conscious about your emotional numbness.
DEPRESSION: Are you thinking cheap beer or ice cream? Trick question, ‘cause we’re having both!
LIVING ROOM - WEEK THIRTEEN
TEXT: Week 13
Jake is sprawled on one couch, Depression on the other. Neither are really doing anything.
JAKE: I’m gonna go on a bike ride.
DEPRESSION: Why the fuck would you do that?
JAKE: I don’t know. But I’m gonna go on a bike ride.
DEPRESSION: That sounds awful. Good luck with that. Can we dwell on your lack of confidence when you get back?
JAKE: I guess.
Jake gets off the couch and walks out of the house.
KITCHEN - WEEK EIGHTEEN
TEXT: Week 18
Jake is washing a large pile of dishes, whistling poorly. Depression sits on a counter.
DEPRESSION: Yo dude, I’m gonna go on a chicken nugs run. You want anything?
JAKE: Nope, I’m all set.
DEPRESSION: Okay, cool.
Depression walks out of the room. The front door opens and closes off screen.
LIVING ROOM - LATER
Jake finishes the dishes and walks out into the living room. A note sits on one of the couches; he picks it up and reads it.
CLOSE UP ON LETTER
DEPRESSION (V.O.): Dear Jacob, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that I did not go on a chicken nugs run. You know, I probably will get some chicken nugs, but there was the implication that I would return…sadly, this is not the case. My baller lifestyle demands that I can get up and leave on the go, and my time here has runs its course. We had some great times talking about paralyzing loneliness, regret, and a general sensation of emptiness, but such conversations will have to be put on hold for the time being. Sincerely, Depression.
Someone knocks on the door. Jake smiles as he opens the door; it’s Depression, with his hand ready for a high-five.
Her world shakes.
Run underground and wait.
It's a game they play.
For any distraction- pray.
while their hearts quake.
Where's your crown?
she hears them say.
Silence is a saving grace.
There goes that siren.
Too soon to escape the den.
Where's that crown- pretend.
keep her search'in
Pray for peace again.
Ba-boom, ba- boom
There goes that thief
it taunts- come get me.
Again she sleeps.
is far away now
like a heartbeat
in the background
but in her mind
there is no sound
only sweet dreams
of peace and crowns.
Author's Note: I think this still needs some work.
A coworker of mine Yo
The only Yo video
The thing about technology
The little girl is running her father ragged
Over and over
That’s it to us
That little girl
Grabbing her up in a towel
The man and his wife dress their daughter
The little girl feels the booms
The way her parents say boom
Sit on my lap
In Crown Hieghts
I once stood underneath it
It’s hard to imagine a Yo that loud
The little girl is in her room now
Though I feel stoned, throat closed by grief
for those I have, and will never, meet
whose lives have ceased
in countries and cities
whose soil I have never seen.
Though I feel such pain in my
I will try to give my thoughts
to this recorded speach.
I cannot promise anything
but I swear I will try
never to fight
and it will begin with me
I will cease to enter into dialogues
of opposition between head and heart.
I will seek to soothe instead of blame.
Turn my shame into a story
that offers the heroine a second chance
a cleaned slate
and the knowing that learning
sometimes comes slow
and it's ok not to know.