If I had to receive any award right now it would be the "Terrible Blogger" statue. I'm sorry everyone I goofed, I goofed hard, I should have kept this up way more than I did and I've disappointed millions (millions of the people that read this in my mind, I think I only have two really). Regardless, let's quit feeling sorry for ourselves and get right to the point. My ultimate goal.
Conceited isn't it? That this blog be talking about me and what I love rather than you and what you love. If you don't like it feel free to go write your own blog, I'll follow and read it with a happy heart knowing someone else out there is working hard at what they love. I digress, what is it that the Roebot wants out of his dream? Clearly I want to create art, but to what end? Do I wish for millions of dollars to rain down upon me, perhaps a cultish following to my work, or maybe I just want one dedicated fan to clap after every one of my films.
Who doesn't want this? (image) |
Most of all, I really want to win an Oscar. While I would love to go to everyone of my competitors and flash it in their faces, it isn't for gloating either. It's for my mother. Corny I know (cue the 'awwww's) but it really is. I want to prove to her that my dream became a reality. I'm even getting a little choked up writing this, I just want to make her proud of my works. And while she does say it now, she hugs me and tells me how great I am, I want to prove it. I want to stand on the stage and thank her for every little thing she's taught me.
That's really it, that's all I want. I know that I would of course celebrate the fact that I alone won the Oscar and that I would brag to most of my friends, but it isn't just about having the gold statue. It means so much more to me, to my mother, to everything I stand for. It's a trophy of a hard work and dedication and I would dedicate that to Susan Roe, the woman who made me love film and never once stopped believing in me.
Mi madre. |
When they call my name I would begin freaking out. Everyone around me would clap and cheer, I would look down at my mother and she would smile at me. Hug and kiss me, and then I would be off to the stage. Knowing me I would trip along the way, but I'm nervous what can I say.
I would get to the podium with the Oscar in hand and I would stare out amongst the mass of A-listers and seat fillers and I wouldn't be able to speak.
One day. (image) |
People would chuckle, perhaps some groans would be let out as people expect the worse, and I would deliver it.
I would produce a page about 10feet long and unfurl it as though I was going to read it. Playing up a bit of the comedy. Eventually I would toss it away.
"I'm joking of course. I would really like to thank the Academy for believing in me, believing in my story enough to honor it with this prestigious golden man. But more importantly I want to thank someone whose been with me since the beginning. My mother. She taught me the joys of cinema like no other, she lifted me up when I was down, and never ever gave up on me."
People would probably get misty eyed, music would probably start playing softly.
"So mom, this is for you, and for you alone. Thanks for everything."
What I hope to see. (image) |
It's kind of pitiful when I write it out but that's how I think it would probably go down. Let's just hope I get to that point. You stay behind me and who knows what I can accomplish.
Roebot Offline.