If wellness is this

I considered making a list of the webcomics and the like that I frequent, but the last time I made a list of actual things my blog got spammed. It was a horrible experience. Like finding a cockroach in your lunch; you know you could eat it if it came to it, or you could just take it out, but deep down you know that your food is ruined. It seriously bothered me. So none of that.

Chris and friend are making a movie downstairs. Or somewhere. It involves Batman, a princess, and the line "Holy distraction, Batman!" I've been offered a cameo as the princess. I just might have to take them up on that.

I'm waiting for an edited copy of my latest story to be returned. What to do, what to do... rrgh... I hate communications technology. It just complicates things. Stupid internets.


Lights up. Barren stage, old dusty floorboards. One large window hanging off the back wall, obviously fake. A cheap wooden desk to stage left, typewriter To stage right is a heavy wooden door. Two characters are sitting in chairs, staring intently at thick stacks of paper in their hands.

1: *reads* Lights up. Barren stage, old dusty floorboards. One large window hanging off the back wall, obviously fake. A cheap wooden desk to stage left, typewriter. To stage right is a heavy wooden door. Two characters are sitting in chairs, staring intently at thick stacks of paper in their hands.

2: *reads* Right.

1: *reads* First line. This is how it starts. We have these two characters sitting in this room, only it’s obviously just a set, reading from a script that describes everything they’re doing. They make references to understanding that they’re in a work of fiction, but never fully acknowledge it.

2: *looks up* This is stupid.

1: Please, just go with it. It’s a work in progress.

2: *reads* This is stupid.

1: *reads* Please, just go with it. It’s a work in progress.

2: *puts down papers* You know what, no. I refuse. This is just some elaborate joke. We both know it.

1: Oh, come on. It’s not as if we have anything better to do.

2 folds arms. Long silence.

That's as far as I got. Then I got stuck.
I call it The Fifth Wall.
Synopsis: Two nameless, faceless characters are locked in a room together. One writes scripts, while the other dreams of better times. They both know that they are fictional, though neither seems quite willing to accept it. Both with the constant feeling of being watched, they long to break past the suspension of disbelief and find the audience behind their audience; the man behind the fifth wall.
Confusing synopsis aside, basically it's about how compared to God we're just as fictional as any character. Just as we watch them from behind the fourth wall, He watches us from behind the fifth. So to break the fifth wall would be... ugh. It makes so much more sense in my head. Language is so inefficient.

I remember the gifted classes, back in grade eight. I remember it was difficult... but only partway through Gr.11 Functions I dream of a math class where things only have to be explained once, where we do only one or two examples instead of spending half the class talking about them, where people don't ask the teacher in utter confusion about a concept we've been using for the past month and a half. A science class where people can comprehend simple diagrams, where someone doesn't keep exclaiming "No, really!?" and the like as though the lesson was directed at him alone. An anthropology class where more than two people make frequent contributions. I'm sorry, I just get frustrated sometimes.

Click. Click. Crick. Crack. More things to complain about but never to deal with. Sigh.