I can’t think of any other way to describe the storyboard, at the moment. Elements of drafts; false trails; material to be recycled or trashed outright. It’s something of a horror show.
Life of the real kind is playing in the same way. How I’ll make it to firmer ground, both in story and in living conditions: some clues I need to follow. Some actions I need to take. Some peace of mind I need to secure for myself.
For the time being, both in story and in real life, I have to ask myself which is worse: gleeful maliciousness, playing havoc with other people’s lives for the hell of it; or the tyrannies and tortures inflicted by a conflict of good intentions.
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