Wednesday. Sitting on the rooftop. Have not gone to get my coffee yet. I just came up here to have a cigarette and wait for the words to strike. Here they are, there they go.

I filled the whole tiny little notepad I picked up from 7-11 yesterday. I will definitely have to find a stationary shop and invest in a real notebook. Again, I had a whole pile of empty notebooks that I left sitting in a box in a closet in my brother’s apartment at home. I had zero faith in myself when it came to writing when I left.

Can I use any of what I wrote in my story? No, probably not. It’s all just stuff for character development. Throw away, if you will. This is where the discipline of The Churn comes in.

Why do I keep a blog filled with so much throw away garbage? So that when the time comes to write a real story, I know what to keep and what to cut.

All of this is going on the cutting room floor.

Welcome to the wonderful world of dailies. Write 30 pages a day, throw it all out, then start all over again tomorrow. I’ve been building this skill up for 10 years. Let’s get rolling. It’s a marathon, not a sprint.

I’m blowing right past all of the mistakes and distractions that were problems when I wrote Bloody Mary’s. Andrew walked so I could run, lol. Good for him. Thanks for being my sandbox. Now I know where not to step so I don’t fuck it all up like I did last time.

Having filled a notebook, I got out my notes and went over them again. I threw the notebook into the planning pile and decided to do some research instead.

Let’s try looking at this place I went where I met this individual in the daylight with sober eyes…

Wow, yikes! Dubai really is like the Valley of the Inflatable Plastic Dolls. It’s actually pretty creepy in so, so many ways.

Then I started sifting through random tagged photos and taking in the sleazy vibe at its fullest. Oh lord, this is terrible, lol! All of these women are sex workers! Literally! They all have Only Fans profiles advertised on their IG. They are, in fact, professionals offering a specialized service to any potential buyer in the marketplace.

What on earth was I even doing in a place like this? I was definitely misled. I asked them where to go to dance. Instead, I don’t even know what kind of scheme I was being roped into now.

Of course I met a completely ridiculous person at this completely ridiculous place! Why else go there if not for the absurd story that would inevitably follow?

Well, here it is. Here is the absurd story that inevitably followed. This is exactly what I’m talking about when I say I’m having a thirst-induced hallucination of a beautiful desert oasis.

Now I just have so many questions:

One: Is this actually a horror movie?

Two: If not fully within the horror genre, is it perhaps more dark romantasy like 365 Days?

Because if this is going in the direction of 365 Days, I had some real problems with that movie. There were parts where I straight-up said out loud, “This is why my ancestors got on a boat and left Europe behind forever.” It was too much for me.

That being said, I immediately watched both sequels the very next day. So there you have it. Money.

Is this like that? Because if so, there’s definitely going to need to be some changes to some of the type of material featured. Some of it was, quite frankly, very unnecessary. We can make the same point a different way. Otherwise, there was also a lot of good stuff that can easily be recycled again in a different package.

Personally, I didn’t care for the evil twin brother plot. Is this really just a metaphor for addiction? Should Massimo have just gone to rehab at the end of the second movie and learned to be more of laidback cool veggie surfer bro like Nacho? And then the third movie would just be him learning to express himself in therapy instead of sexually assaulting women when he needs to “blow off some steam?” Sounds pretty boring, right? I guess I’d pick the cliched evil twin brother plot if I was Netflix too.

Now you know how these decisions are made, lol.

If I was the main character of that movie, I would not have chosen either of the Sicilian gangster guys. I would have simply just left that entire region of the Mediterranean altogether and started over somewhere fresh.

Maybe not date for awhile. Maybe go to a yoga retreat in Bali or something. Take a break. Read a book. Maybe learn a new language so I’m not totally helpless the next time I get kidnapped on vacation.

Like, girl, get your shit together. Look at your life, look at your choices. Look at these men! Yikes on bikes! What is you doing, baby?

Speaking of learning a new language, it would be cool if I learned enough Thai to greet the lady at the coffee stand every morning. A minor oversight, to be certain, but easy enough to correct.

I stepped out to get my coffee while the housekeeper is in the apartment. It’s very convenient to not live a mess. It’s just keeps the mind so clear. I am highly motivated to sustain this lifestyle for the sake of my own health and wellbeing.

The only problem that remains is how to work and make money as a person with a neurodivergent brain who cannot fit in anywhere she goes.

Okay, let’s work on trying to resolve that problem while I let whatever is stewing in the pot boil over…