“In 1964, Buster Keaton was offered the most serious role of his career. Samuel Beckett was working on his only screenplay—a short film called Film depicting a character who, like a cockroach, seems terrified of being seen. Beckett calls this character “O” for being the “Object” of “E,” the “Eye” of the camera that’s obsessively following him. Beckett first wanted Chaplin but finally turned to Keaton, whose Great Stone Face and hapless but intrepid character have often been compared to Beckett. The playwright had previously asked Keaton to play the beleaguered slave Lucky in the American premiere of Waiting for Godot, but Keaton, bewildered by the script, turned him down. The new DVD also includes the memorable 1961 television version of Waiting for Godot, directed by Alan Schneider, with two great comic actors, Zero Mostel and Burgess Meredith, performing Beckett’s existential vaudeville.”
- from the same session as the circular attempt. This challenge is fun.
I think I prefer this to the earlier one. I also didn’t realise how liberating it is to use slow shutter speeds and move the camera. I’m usually so obsessed with reducing shake. Now I will embrace movement!
(This is like a prequel of sorts to my main multi-chapter fic, Like the World is Watching. I realized while writing Beca’s new life in Los Angeles that I also needed to be clear on Chloe’s POV at that point in time, so it turned into this. But it can also be read as a stand-alone, taking place a few months after the Bellas graduate.
Edit: Here’s the ao3 and FF.net links in case you don’t want to read on tumblr.)
You’re never gonna read this. That’s the only way I can tell you what I want to tell you, all the stuff I’ve been trying not to say for so long. I can say that stuff, I need to say it, but only if I know that you’re never gonna read this. That’s why I’m writing it in my journal, because I know I could leave my journal lying right out in front of you and you wouldn’t even think about peeking. In fact, I have a few times, just to see if you would. But nope, nothing, not even a glance. Personally, I choose to believe it’s because you respect my privacy, and not because you’re just not that interested. Or maybe it’s because you’re afraid of what you might see in there. I guess it could be that, too.
But probably not. Because I’m guessing you don’t really think I have anything to hide. Probably most people think that. Admit it, you’d be surprised to know I’m capable of holding anything back. You probably think that every thought that flits through my mind just automatically comes out my mouth. And it’s true, a lot of them do. Okay, most of them do. Especially when I’m drunk. And more especially when I’m drunk on tequila, for some reason. Like I was tonight.
But tonight, unlike every other time I’ve needed him, Jose Cuervo let me down. Because even with all that Latin liquid courage, for whatever reason, I just couldn’t say what I wanted to say to you. Maybe that’s a good thing. I’m sure you’d think it was. And really, that’s all that should have mattered tonight. Your feelings. Not mine.
Tonight was your going-away party, Beca. And wow, I thought I was totally used to that idea by now, but it still hurts to even write those words. What a weird phrase anyway, right? Going-away party. Like there’s anything to celebrate when someone goes away. There’s not, as far as I’m concerned. At least not for the people left behind.
It was an amazing party, though, I have to admit that. You know we wouldn’t send you off with anything less. Everyone had a great time. Maybe a little too great, in some cases. I probably shouldn’t have suggested that game of drunk Truth or Dare. Who would have thought Emily would be the type to choose a dare? And how does she even know how to use a stripper pole, anyway? That girl is full of surprises. Sometimes mildly uncomfortable ones.
I think you had fun, too. In fact, I know you did, because I can always tell when you’re faking it. Even better than Jesse, I think. Sometimes he doesn’t seem to have much of a clue when you’re faking it. (I’m talking about having fun at parties, obviously. If you’re doing any other kind of faking when you’re alone with him, I wouldn’t know about that. Although to be honest, I do sometimes get the impression that in that particular area, he’s maybe not… you know what, forget it. That’s none of my business. I’m sure he tries his best.)
I had such a great weekend at home! Beer fest was out of control. I saw my college roommate that pooped herself so that was super awkward. We ended up getting pitchers of margaritas afterwards which explains why I woke up at 4am throwing up.
Today we went for lunch and apple picking. Obviously we had to get apple cider and eat cider donuts.