Waiting for Federico to call. Or email, you know, email would be fine. Anything. Anything to get us out of this limbo.
Somewhere in California, in a clean clean room. It's like THX1138. I like to think that. Maybe they play classical music.
Waiting waiting waiting. It's like that play, you know. We sit around and wait and wait for anyone who is supposed to call or email to call or email. Refresh refresh.
So we watch other people's movies. So beautiful. We pretend we are not anxious, but we are.
Oh, so life imitates art imitates life. Art imitates man imitates art.
I wrote that as Art inmates man. Ha. Fucking hysterical, yes? Art intimidates life.
Please let them be monkeys. Please let them be monkeys. Please let them be monkeys.
Oh wait. He has the same first name as Fellini. How ironic.
I mean, there is plan B. Which, fine. Would you let us know if we need to initiate it, Federico?
So I work on the closing credits. He's gonna stick that mic up his ass/ "I'm gonna stick that mic up my ass!"
Meanwhile, that hurricane churns and churns slowly up from the coast. Waiting waiting waiting
You'd make me laugh if it wasn't prohibited.