Hello! I'm back!
I'm so sorry for being passive for a few days. I've been hooked with developing a screenplay, and I thought I could get out of it as easily as I've started it, but it's seems more addictive that I thought it is. I've found myself engrossed with the rewriting, re-plotting, editing and polishing. I just hope that later on my pitching will somehow kindles hope and even pays off. Do you guys happen to know a place or a site or a person who takes movie scripts and actually review them? I've heard about Writers' Guild of America, and that they offer protection to amateur writers and veterans alike by registering their works there. And I'm going to register mine. If you happen to know a place where I could "toss" it, please let me know. I would truly appreciate it.

I know this is a wild idea coming out of me, but well, there's no harm in trying.


And btw, the poem I've posted below is actually a depiction of the story I am writing about. Well, it's more of like, the poetic expression of the story, summarizing the main issue into a log line. I can't stay long here for now, I got
limited internet access (grrr!).

Anyways, good day to you all!

Hugs!

I look for a place
Where the world spells life differently
But find a crossroad instead.
Shall I take the highway
Or shall I follow the biway?

Events are the outcome of one's choices
These roads before me
that'll take me there are empty
The clearing of whichever road befalls
only after my every step.

The distance is vaguer than mist
But the fog lifts up and clears
After it touches my breath ---
Only by then that the distance is seen
The distance's defined.

Blank routes yield no options
But choices for actions pave a route
And take me to where my heart envisions.
For there's no predestined me,
or a prearranged journey.

And so I don't choose ---
I make a road
for
me.

At some points in our lives we come to a pause right before an intersection, figuring the choices we are going to take, fearing the uncertainties behind our head. And in my life I have come to so many points where I doubt my own conviction, question those pieces that comprise myself, and reconsider choosing a thorny, weedy, rocky decision of letting myself free but failing all those around me...

It is during these times that I heave my hands forward, coping for some strength to switch on the streetlights alongside me...

Wake up,

dear eyes!



Untrodden path

right before me,

My feet cease

with uncertainty.

Hands hoisted,

tearing such

deafening serenity

Groping in the

cold space

for rails

For I dream not

to stumble

into the unknown,

into the foggy

lonely distance.

Voices heard,

those in my head,

those screams of

the silence ahead.

Seeing through

the thick fog

my eyes want to

foresee such

strange territory

that reigns ahead,

Visions of the future

vague as a

twilight beam

My feet are slowly

moving forward

facing, embracing

fear.



Starving

quicksand

Awaits derailment

and for my walk

to stray.



Wake up,

dear eyes!