Considering I haven't really done much over the space of the last fifteen hours or so, it's been a long day - or at least feels as if it has. Wasted most of the afternoon, thinking that I'd have all evening to catch up on writing (how wrong I was! ---> see below) and did so by listening to a couple more episodes of Doctor Who on audio [I've now reached episode 4 of The Dalek Master Plan], then another episode of the brilliant second series of The Sopranos. Love that show.
Got a call from work, asking if I could come in tonight - even though it's supposed to be a night off. I don't mind. Firstly, they've cut my hours of late, so I could do with some bonus pay to boost the pay packet. Oh, and secondly, I actually do miss the place when I'm not there. Well, it's the people I miss the most really. A cinema is such a great social venue. Honest to God, it's the only time I ever properly socialise. Forget university or nights out; I'm pretending then. No, at work I have friends and every single one of them means something to me.
T'was about 3am when I got in, and I did what I usual do: Make myself something to eat, and promptly go online to catch up on any news I might have missed out on in the time I've been away. Apparently there's a SJA related event in Manchester this weekend, and fellow SJ.tv writer Nabu San wants to know if I'll go and meet up with him. Course I will! Should be fun - and I've even requested a sneaky game of Laser Quest afterwards.
After that, I continued my 3am tour of the WWW and saw something truly shocking. Honest, I'm rarely taken aback... but this. Oh man. Too much.
In a sick sort of way though, it was that vile and that disgusting it made the writer side of my brain think 'hmm, wonder if I could ever use that someday in a script' - and you know what? I think I will. I know the perfect idea it'd fit into. Writers are like that, always willing to take the worst parts of human nature, and use them to their advantage (or the story's advantage).
Even though every atom of my rational mind struggles to comprehend what it is it just saw, I know at least one character waiting in the great vista of imagination, of things waiting to be formed, that can comprehend fully, and understand, this strange/twisted act I just saw.
I'm going to bed now. Scared that I can think up such a person. Scared that I'd ever want to use him in a story of mine. Scared that the sinister darkness I just saw online is a part of me, and my imagination.