sassypants

I think I may have lost my mind.

I keep thinking that if life is this bad, it can only get better, yet it persists on getting worse.

I'm still young, but it doesn't seem to matter at all. I'm dead inside. I'm old and bitter. I'm a failure. I'm alone and ugly and stupid and untalented. And I wish I could just die right fucking now.

I hate everything.

L I F E W I L L K I L L Y O U

I wish I could write so vulnerably as this, but I'm too ashamed and self-conscious. I'm too afraid of what you'll think of me. I'm too afraid of being thought of as fishing for compliments. I don't want to deal with the ego boosting conversations or the depression interventions. If I could write myself right now, it would be this:

i don't look in the mirror
i don't like what i see staring back at me
everything is clearer
i'll never see what you see
it's not me
so beautiful and free
i'll never be what you need
can't help at all
i was born so beautiful
but now i'm ugly

and i rot in my skin
as a piece of me dies everyday
i know i'm nothing
i know there's nothing i can say
to change
the judgment in their ways
i'll never be what you need
can't help at all
my love was so beautiful
but now i'm ugly
yeah...

i'm good enough, but i don't care
i'm good enough, but i'm not there
i'm good enough, but i don't care
the sun is out, but i'm not there

(i can go anywhere) i'm good enough, but i don't care (...somewhere)
(i can go anywhere) the sun is out, but i'm not there (...somewhere)
(i can go anywhere) i'm good enough (...somewhere)
(i can go anywhere) i'm good enough (...somewhere)

i don't look in the mirror
i don't like what i see staring back at me
everything is clearer
i'll never see what you see
and i rot in my skin
as a piece of me dies everyday
i know i'm nothing
because i'm ugly


Thank you, Mr. Corgan.

I feel like I am carrying around a burden right now.

My brain isn't making sense. When I try to describe a play, I can't. I know I'm not personal about it, but I can't figure out how to be. I guess if I start writing what I think of a scene, if I just splurge on whatever, that might help me develop some thoughts on it. It seems as if I am always running away from work. I feel unbalanced. I'm taking on too much. I'm literally trying to blow through every good movie ever made at home, every interesting new movie coming out in theaters, every interesting play coming out, every audition I make sense for, and then I'm beating myself up for not doing enough work as an actor. I'm not doing enough of my own work. I'm doing a lot of research, but nothing of mine. I must start working harder. God, that doesn't even sound good to me. That sounds stressful. I don't want to be stressed out all the time. What can I do?

I can spend one hour a day working on my own work. What would I have to do to make that happen? Well, I got through all the plays I needed to see for Jan/beg of Feb. Maybe I can just start writing my thoughts. That might help me sort them out. I remember when this was easy and not a whole shitload of work. The way that I'm working now, though, I can't be half-assed or I can't even begin.

I was so embarrassed yesterday. I feel like I'm not good enough to be in this class around these actors, and that I'm holding everyone back. And I know that's silly, but I clam up so easily. People ask me what I think, and suddenly I'm speechless. I'm apparently much more private than I thought. Even writing this is hard. I talk about how creative I am. I talk about how I'm a good actor. It's only obvious when I'm around bad actors, not when I'm around good ones.

I don't know what I think. I don't. I don't know how I feel ever. Why am I so scared of who I am? Or should I be able to define these things? Maybe I should quit acting. Maybe I should. I'm fucking losing it.

I'm so frustrated.

displaced

i rummaged through the year
and found you sitting pretty
here on the back of my heart,
and i am not over you yet.
i feel all full of hatred
and jealousy and lust and
i have not stopped hurting,
even at the opposite end
of this beautiful country.
i took everything for granted,
and now that i am all out
of money, friends, and love,
now that all i have is hope,
i don't even know where i am.
did you take the best of me?
am i making the best of this?
is this the best i can do?

I seem to be unable to sleep tonight. I am very scared. I miss being happy. I miss the summer. I miss the Lower East Side. I miss a lot of things. I really need something to get better very soon. I need some inspiration. I can't be a self-generating machine for much longer. I need to do a show. I need to make enough money to save some. I need to find a girl. All the ones I seem to find have boyfriends already. I've decided to stop ruling them out based on that principal. If I were to leave every girl with a boyfriend alone, I don't think I'd ever go after one. I haven't met a girl without a boyfriend in four or five months. It's crazy. Women seem to go from boyfriend to boyfriend. I don't get that. I seem to have a girlfriend and then a year...and a half goes by until I have another one. I'm losing steam. I made rent this month. I quit my job at Jekyll and Hyde. I have a new job at a greek restaurant on the Upper West Side. I hope it works out. I'm worried that it is going to put a serious damper on my schedule. Already, I'm worried about one audition. I'm just so tired of being here. I'm getting impatient. It's been ten months now since I've been here. I want a life worth living. I've been putting off writing my play. I should start again. Beginning is the hardest part. I can't wait 'till spring. It just got very cold. I'm not looking forward to the freezing weather.

Year 2007 roundup:

I moved across a country.
I became a server again.
I spent all of my savings.
I kissed one girl I was not all that attracted to.
I joined Equity.
I worked on four plays.
I began really learning my craft and my body.
I didn't have a constant friend.
I spent my birthday, Christmas and Thanksgiving alone.
I auditioned a lot.
I stopped exercising.
I was fired from three jobs.
I got to know my father's family.
I became more sure of myself.
I opened up a lot.
I began to view myself realistically.
I became more self-deprecating.
I was very depressed and lonely.
I learned a lot about the world.
I barely slept.
I abused my body.
I started smoking again.
I started drinking whiskey.
I began to feel old.
I started working with my favorite company in the country.
I started writing.
I began to appreciate things other than acting.
I let myself be as ugly as I felt for much of the year.
I was a real asshole.
I started writing on livejournal again.
I lived on hope for tomorrow.
I looked forward to next year for the first time, hoping it would be better than this.

It's been some time. That's not good. Ah well. This is more stream. I'm scared. I'm lonely. I want to kiss someone very badly. I want to fuck someone very badly. It seems that my tastes have changed. But at the same time they haven't. But I do want to feel some girl up who dresses like a girl. I guess I want a woman. But I keep finding these underage girls attractive at Jeckyll and Hyde. It makes me wonder if I will ever stop. Then again, I wonder . . . is it reasonable to think that as I age, so will my taste in women? Wouldn't I find the same things attractive that I used to? Is not that reasonable? We may call it bad in our culture, but morals and humanity are rarely in synch. I'm not interested in these girls for their minds. I'm not even interested in them, really. But there is an optimism that hasn't been crushed by the weight of the world in these girls, and that is so beautiful. To think that I could live the rest of my life without having a romantic partner with that quality scares me. Granted, I don't know that I'll ever be with another girl. I seem to be becoming more and more invisible. I still feel like a boy. And I'm not. But I am. I'm drinking whiskey right now. Jack Daniels. I don't much like it. I just started. No, I'm not feeling it yet.

I'm listening to a song called "Bluebird of Happiness" by Mojave3. I have no idea how it got onto my computer. I like it. A lot. I'm hoping to be saved right now. I fucked up. I really did. I stayed here. And I've been spending too much money. And I haven't worked as much as I'd like to. And I'm coming up on rent-time. And I'm unbelievably short. I think the bank of Mom and Dad is going to save me this time. This will probably be the last time. I actually asked my Mom to borrow money just now. I'm hoping I pull through alright. I think I will. But I can't waste any time fucking around in January. I need a job I can sustain myself on. And I need it now. I know I shouldn't have stayed in New York. I know that. I should've put my tail between my legs and gone to Portland or something. But I just didn't want to. I just feel so good here. I feel like I'm building a life. And this is beginning to feel like my home.

I guess that it hasn't made much sense to people as to why I left. I guess my main hope was (and still is) that once I finally put myself back together, I'll have simultaneously created for myself a career as a working actor in NYC. When I left, I didn't want to come to New York. When I got here, I didn't want to stay. It didn't make a lot of sense. But I really was at the end of my rope. I was about to kill myself. And I'm not anymore. I figured that I needed a new life. Now, I am scared, and I want to give up all the time, but I'm not suicidal anymore.

I'm kinda tired of writing about that. The Mr. John Daniels is beginning to take effect. I love you. I miss you. Merry Christmas.

I'm very sad right now. I don't feel upset. Just sad. Maybe I'm homesick. I miss how simple things were when I was younger. I'm listening to Jimmy Eat World. Earlier, I was listening to The Jealous Sound. I miss being an emo kid, living in my mother's dining room. I miss it. I didn't write very much this week. I'm not sure if I care. I felt so happy that I didn't want to. It seemed like it would be a chore. I hope I come back to life soon. I'm very lonely. It's getting harder. I'm growing. I'm studying my craft hard. I'm scared about the whole job situation. I still don't have a better one. Apparently, I'm going to be in a situation come January if I don't have one. They'll be scaling down my shifts at Jeckyll and Hyde. I'm gonna be a bohemian for a while yet from the looks of it. I don't want to leave. I don't know where I'd go. If I have to, I think I have other living options. I keep putting things off. I need to stop that. I just get tired. I'm always studying. Seeing theater is becoming a chore. It's been a bit obsessive on my part. LAByrinth Theater Company--the company I'm working for--I'd having a festival of readings that has been going on for three weeks. I've been at every one. It's wonderful and exciting, but I'm getting burned out on it. It ends Tuesday. I can't wait to have a night or two away from the theater. I'm so behind, though, on the Off-Broadway plays because of the festival, though, that I'm going to have to cram some in. Things will calm down after Christmas. I am applying for a position at a children's museum as a guitarist. I'm hoping for it. It would pay $2200 a month. That would be better than amazing. Send your best karma my way. I'm not planning on being cast in a play for a while. Audition season starts in February. I really hope I dazzle them this year. A break would be really nice--even if it were just a little one.