#coronaverse

Dear Tumblr it has been 6,433 days since I’ve begun self isolating in my room and I it’s not affecting my mood or mental state in anyway whatsoever....

Well, okay, it’s only actually been 4 days, but you get the general headspace I’m in at the moment. I can’t complain too much, though,. I blew my nose maybe once today and i’m not sure that even counts because being a bit sneezy is kinda my baseline at this time of year. 

I also wrote  2039 words today, making it a grand total of 23,329, so I’m officially at the quarter mark of the book and nearly at the halfway mark of my NaNoWriMo wordcount, so i’m feeling a bit happy with myself at the moment, especially considering the weird week I’ve been having. 

Today I’m thinking I need a little hot chocolate in my life as my reward treat. 

Ok hear me out. I present to you this shot. Dean is crying here. This means he did a take where he broke down, or very nearly did.

When you shoot a scene you do multiple angles, multiple takes on each. I went back and watched this is scene over and over and there are 2 different close ups, a tight profile and a wider profile shot with both of them in plus this one.

From this, in my opinion (as someone who works on a set every day and very closely with directors) it was a deliberate choice to have Dean unemotional when edited together. They obviously did have takes where it was different and for those saying it was filmed separately, it was over the shoulder for most of the shots meaning Jensen and Misha were definitely in front of each other for the whole scene.

Not chickens, not swans,

Ducks,

Not pheasants or penguins,

Ducks,

Not bats or cats or pigeons

Or elephants or cheetahs

Or trees or fruit or tins of beans

Or toast or toasters or

Toilet roll or water

(though part water)

Or grass or happy or social unity

Or thoughts or anxiety or energy

(though part energy)

Or viruses or stars or outer space

Or God

Or fish.

Ducks aren't fish.

Take away everything that a duck is not,

Dear Tumblr, today I wrote 1,800 words, making it a total of 21,290 words.

How would it rain?

Still down? From top to bottom?

Each wave pulled across the ceiling

Splashing flecks of grey to the carpet

Liquid water

Racing down, down

In bubbles

That will never pop,

Just dissipate into foggy air

Before it reaches our heads

And falls into our ears in silence.

If the sea became the sky,

How would puddles form?

Would our feet be cradled in clouds

Each rainy day?

Leaving little pools of smoke

For the sun to turn liquidy and pull up,

Up,

Where would we keep the sun?

Would the fishes survive the thin atmosphere?

If we cried, would our tears be pulled up our foreheads too?

Or would my eyes become a smoke machine?

Would I ever feel the thrill of touching liquid water?

If the sea

Became the sky?

Had to do a shop today and passed a park that had been newly mown. I swear, the smell of freshly cut grass actually gave me a viscerally emotional response.