Everything That I've Got Is Just What I've Got On, I Ain't Got A Dime, But What I Got Is Mine, I Ain't Rich, But Lord I'm Free
--"Amarillo By Morning", George Strait
Power. Money. Peace of Mind.
Which of those three possibilities is a strong enough motivation for someone seemingly normal to kill over? That's the question I've been debating for two days now as I prepare to flesh out my werewolf/film noir screenplay. Originally, I had the motivation for the caper which serves as an inciting incident to stem from a robbery gone awry. I originally intended for the major players to plan out an intricate heist of $100,000 which subsequently gets fouled up as they turn on one another and murder to get their hands on the purse. Murder? Of course it's going to be about money. That was immediately what leap to my mind when it came down to reasons for the first dead body. I couldn't even fathom any other vice compelling enough to prompt a person to kill.
It was actually my cousin Vincent who started my investigation of other priorities that might be powerful enough to kill over. He told me that money is too easy; it's what it's expected from this type of story. Then he challenged me to puzzle out another explanation, one that might tie into the elaborate backstory I had crafted for Hokes, my main investigator.
That search has led me to two alternatives, power and peace of mind.
Power, like money, isn't that big of a stretch. People do despicable deeds in order to get a leg up in the world. It wouldn't take much to wiggle in that the so-called badguys in my story merely did away with their rivals in a decidedly cover power play. I would have no trouble making my story center around that idea.
Yet the idea that keeps coming to the forefront of my mind is the idea of someone killing another person in order to get the answers he never had before or, worse yet, to bury a secret they don't want uncovered, a secret that has nothing to do with money or power, but the secret shame they've felt all the prior years. That's probably the idea I'm going to go with.
Which leads me to wonder for what exactly I might take drastic action in an effort to retain my peace of mind. What secrets do I have that I might be willing to silence someone forever to keep buried? I'd like to believe that such secrets do not exist and that such eternal questions have already been answered. Even though I may play the angst-ridden guttersnipe, I really have come to accept my life as the uneventful and ambivalent sea of uninterrupted moderation it really is. I'm neither overly morose or overly merry. I pretty much mosey along at an even pace.
Yet if I were to really search my soul, I'd have to say that a lot of the tales I post here I might have wanted to keep myself if I didn't if this weird need to unburden myself all the time. It's fairly embarrassing to be reminded on a daily basis of my moments of weakness, which have included daliances with people half my age, my alarming propensity for violence at the most inopportune moments, my various run-ins with the law or authority, and, of course, my utter lack of ethics when it comes to attaining goals I have decided to set for myself. These are the qualities and anecdotes I normally keep to myself when speaking to someone in person and only carefully reveal as you get to know me. Except here. For some reason I feel confident enough to let the chips fall where they may and let people read what they will of me. I don't care. And it's not because I think there is some overwhelming cloak of secrecy surrounding this site. I know I have used my real name, real hometown, and even real places of employment, that it would genuinely easy to decipher everything about me where someone to be so inclined. No, I think the power comes from knowing that the judgments people have of me will be diluted at best since very few individuals have ever glimpsed the complete picture of me.
Yet, if in some strange universe I had not committed these somewhat shocking revelations to paper here, I think I might have taken more offense to someone sussing them out. The hitting of DeAnn, the abortion--those are stories I might have done well to bottle up a tad longer. Also, I'm still not very proud of sleeping with Breanne and Tara before they were of age. That's a struggle of conscience that never quite goes away. Also, plowing into that schoolbus driver, conning all those kids in Vegas, everyone I ever pulled the twenty-dollar trick to, and, of course, the various of people I have lied to in order to gain some financial compensation, are not the fondest memories I possess. If I sat here I could probably wrangle a few more from the construct of my memory, but those few items I might have more vehemently denied and did whatever I could to prevent their getting out into the open.
But, by the very fact, all of those tales can be read in one place or another here precludes me from ever really being anxious about someone finding out about any of them. It's all here, folks. I'm not hiding very much. That's why I don't think I could ever resort to killing someone over wanting to keep something hidden. Nor do I think that there's been one nagging question that's hung over my head. Any time that's happened I've kind of worked through the answers myself (or with Breanne) here.
I do believe I have a modicum of peace of mind because of this blog. I know that because even if someone were to print these posts in their entirety I would have only one response.
And that would be, "Eh."
That's the freedom this site affords me.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
Power. Money. Peace of Mind.Which of those three possibilities is a strong enough motivation for someone seemingly normal to kill over? That's the question I've been debating for two days now as I prepare to flesh out my werewolf/film noir screenplay. Originally, I had the motivation for the caper which serves as an inciting incident to stem from a robbery gone awry. I originally intended for the major players to plan out an intricate heist of $100,000 which subsequently gets fouled up as they turn on one another and murder to get their hands on the purse. Murder? Of course it's going to be about money. That was immediately what leap to my mind when it came down to reasons for the first dead body. I couldn't even fathom any other vice compelling enough to prompt a person to kill.
It was actually my cousin Vincent who started my investigation of other priorities that might be powerful enough to kill over. He told me that money is too easy; it's what it's expected from this type of story. Then he challenged me to puzzle out another explanation, one that might tie into the elaborate backstory I had crafted for Hokes, my main investigator.
That search has led me to two alternatives, power and peace of mind.
Power, like money, isn't that big of a stretch. People do despicable deeds in order to get a leg up in the world. It wouldn't take much to wiggle in that the so-called badguys in my story merely did away with their rivals in a decidedly cover power play. I would have no trouble making my story center around that idea.
Yet the idea that keeps coming to the forefront of my mind is the idea of someone killing another person in order to get the answers he never had before or, worse yet, to bury a secret they don't want uncovered, a secret that has nothing to do with money or power, but the secret shame they've felt all the prior years. That's probably the idea I'm going to go with.
Which leads me to wonder for what exactly I might take drastic action in an effort to retain my peace of mind. What secrets do I have that I might be willing to silence someone forever to keep buried? I'd like to believe that such secrets do not exist and that such eternal questions have already been answered. Even though I may play the angst-ridden guttersnipe, I really have come to accept my life as the uneventful and ambivalent sea of uninterrupted moderation it really is. I'm neither overly morose or overly merry. I pretty much mosey along at an even pace.
Yet if I were to really search my soul, I'd have to say that a lot of the tales I post here I might have wanted to keep myself if I didn't if this weird need to unburden myself all the time. It's fairly embarrassing to be reminded on a daily basis of my moments of weakness, which have included daliances with people half my age, my alarming propensity for violence at the most inopportune moments, my various run-ins with the law or authority, and, of course, my utter lack of ethics when it comes to attaining goals I have decided to set for myself. These are the qualities and anecdotes I normally keep to myself when speaking to someone in person and only carefully reveal as you get to know me. Except here. For some reason I feel confident enough to let the chips fall where they may and let people read what they will of me. I don't care. And it's not because I think there is some overwhelming cloak of secrecy surrounding this site. I know I have used my real name, real hometown, and even real places of employment, that it would genuinely easy to decipher everything about me where someone to be so inclined. No, I think the power comes from knowing that the judgments people have of me will be diluted at best since very few individuals have ever glimpsed the complete picture of me.
Yet, if in some strange universe I had not committed these somewhat shocking revelations to paper here, I think I might have taken more offense to someone sussing them out. The hitting of DeAnn, the abortion--those are stories I might have done well to bottle up a tad longer. Also, I'm still not very proud of sleeping with Breanne and Tara before they were of age. That's a struggle of conscience that never quite goes away. Also, plowing into that schoolbus driver, conning all those kids in Vegas, everyone I ever pulled the twenty-dollar trick to, and, of course, the various of people I have lied to in order to gain some financial compensation, are not the fondest memories I possess. If I sat here I could probably wrangle a few more from the construct of my memory, but those few items I might have more vehemently denied and did whatever I could to prevent their getting out into the open.
But, by the very fact, all of those tales can be read in one place or another here precludes me from ever really being anxious about someone finding out about any of them. It's all here, folks. I'm not hiding very much. That's why I don't think I could ever resort to killing someone over wanting to keep something hidden. Nor do I think that there's been one nagging question that's hung over my head. Any time that's happened I've kind of worked through the answers myself (or with Breanne) here.
I do believe I have a modicum of peace of mind because of this blog. I know that because even if someone were to print these posts in their entirety I would have only one response.
And that would be, "Eh."
That's the freedom this site affords me.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
Labels: Money, Motivations, Peace of Mind, Power
posted by mojo shivers @ 9:49 PM
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