The Thin Line Between Fiction and Non-fiction

I just ordered honey bourbon chicken from a fairly attractive lady in this restaurant called Whistlestop not so far from my place. There’s this old school telephone booth right outside that is very reminiscent of Dr. Who. And like her alleged prose on the Quarter Pounder, I do find meaninglessness in this chicken dish. I just like the idea of it having bourbon, I guess. I do have a craving for whisky today for some reason.

Perhaps this feeling is exacerbated by the fact that I’m immersing myself in Sartre’s literature. I’m working on a script for a friend, for a collaboration, that will be based on Sartre’s play No Exit. I’ve read it before but I’m researching more into it. Like the context. I remember there was a time when Sartre was a prisoner of war. You see, your environment, these factors around you will affect how you write. I want to know everything; not just the story but also what was going on when the story was being written, you know, what’s going on in Sartre’s head.

I have the basic concepts of the scenes and dialogues in my head already and how it will all start and end. I just need to put the puzzle pieces together. I don’t know if it will sell but all the matters to me is that it becomes as authentic, honest, and unpretentious as possible.

A friend also just posted a link on my Timeline about several criticisms on the gold standard, another thing to think about. I mean, I do feel morally obliged to share the truth about monetary policy but at the same time I am always afraid I might misrepresent libertarianism or the Austrian School of Economics. I want to make sure that my rebuttals are backed by facts, data, and evidence (which I don’t think would be a hard thing to do anyway).

Speaking of gold, I do start work officially again next week and I am quite excited. On that note, let’s all make this weekend count. Cheers!


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