The day after my best day

Just finished No Condom No Sex and what a relief that has been. Films always tend to grow on you towards the end. That’s the worst possible phase to loose out because that when you are doing what most essentially has to be done; finish in style.

Editing was a bit tiring towards the end, because of the complexities of the software that we used. Although it was far simpler than some of the other tools available in the market but the creative process drains you and you are left with nothing but a tired feeling of accomplishment. In fact you don’t feel that accomplishment either as you have gone through so much toil any amount of success in return seems to be dwarfed by the efforts put in. However, you still cannot take disappointments at this stage. This is strange. Success doesn’t make to ecstatic, but failures dip you down.

Before my next project I will take up certain writing assignments. Writing oxygenates me. I think I have used that word “oxygenate” many other times too. I like it, one of those rare words who are able to measure up to the emotion behind. Writing is mainly a challenge as my mind wanders into too many plots at the same time. This morning I actually wrote 3 different stories simultaneously. Absurd? I don’t know. I might want to develop a style of my own soon or I will fall into the danger of loosing sight soon. Some of those plots die their natural death. But once started, a plot doesn’t leave you that easily, even if it dies. It lives in your memory and come back stronger later.

So, one good news is that now days I don’t have to deal with writer’s block. I am kind of superstitious; I don’t want to talk about it lest it may hit me again. But what I suffered from was not exactly writer’s block. It was amateur’s block. But I am now suffering from a new block which is more profound than the earlier one. My obsessions to avoid clichés are bothering me. No matter what writing I do, I always come out dissatisfied. It raises big questions. Questions that have unpleasant answers. Where ever I see any interesting writing I look for that element of originality that outshines the rest of the piece. I feel I lack the spunk. I become glum and restless. The battle goes on, until one moment comes where I see that phrase, in my grasp. Then I move on.