There is something to be said about standing in front of a wasted printer, with grey-on-white stack of script pages in your hands. It's not finished, I hope some day it will be, but at the moment I can't help feel proud when seeing the 39 pages that came out from 1-2 weeks of work. It was worth it. It was really worth it: to ignore sleep, common sense, homework, holidays; everything and to simply write. It sound more romantic that it was. It was hard, and daunting, and exhilarating and I stopped, didn't reach the finishing line, gave up; gave in. But not before 60 pages of work. 39 of those being this newly printed script.

In these pages you can track my everyday life, the events that influenced me scene by scene; here let me show you:

Scene Three: We danced in the rain that day. It was the last day of term 1 and it was raining. The school got flooded in the end. After science, me and Sarah run about in the rain until we were breathless and our legs were covered in mud. We attempted to dry our clothes and hair in the toilets by the canteen. Yesterday Amy remembering that day, called Matt a hobbit. Rita was sensible and a boy from year 11 -takes my bus from my station, Nick-gave us an odd look as we ran past. In Maths the sky was purple, or maybe another fantastic colour; no work was done: naturally. The boys (year 8?) corridor was flooded. Arriving at writers workshop (R1) I stood in the doorway letting rain drip on me, the I sat by the doorway, took of my socks and attempted to squeeze the water out of them. We made a trip to get our bags from the locker room, and I returned with an umbrella. We watched Rowan Atkinson talk about humour.

Scene Four, A few days before I've been browsing youtube, and one song got stuck in my head. Relativ, by Wise Guys. It was in German. My amusement could go a long way. I wrote it in two scenes, only one was in this play.

Scene Seven, we went to the Casino, that day or the day before. The one on south bank, near the river. It was grand, no specific decorations for Easter. There were lights however glittering from the celling in front hallway/grand staircase. They had a chocolate shop with painted wooded eggs, they reminded me of Russia. Mum too. I couldn't breathe in that place, my thought were morbid, and somewhat tainted by the unobservable sleaziness of the place. I realized it was due to the fact, that there were no windows, no wood. Only stone, metal and people. I hated it.

Scene Eight, we were in Adelaide. We visited a garden there, a gift from a twined city in Japan. There was a African wedding leaving, bright colourful clothes. It was the first time I've seen a zen garden, but what forced me still was a deer scarer. I'm not sure why.

Scene Eleven, I've been obsessing with one phrase that day, attempting to remember it right: "Yesterday upon the stair, I met a man who wasn't there, He wasn't there again today, Oh, how I wish he'd go away". For some reason those words remind me of the stairs leading up to my grandparents flat. More memories. I also mention the bush fires. Then quickly make up for that mistake.

Just a small insight in my writing process. A small glimpse in to my memories of times past.