Everyone I know is having an identity crisis. And me too bitch!!!! At first I was like…not me!! I couldn’t be in existential pain, but then I remember I’ve been disassociating multiple times a day for the past two weeks. Just staring through space and time into emptiness, I’m scaring the hoes a bit…I’m a statue, a fake stupid lumbering version of myself, still, staring, waiting to be shattered. I moved to Sim city bitch, now tell me what to do or I might piss on the floor!!!
I’ve been calling myself a filmmaker for three months and now people want to see the work…Usually when they ask for my Vimeo I create a diversion. Break a glass, tell a scary story, point out the window, anything but confront my falseness. I refuse to confess my inability, my talentlessness, let me vibe with my imposter syndrome in peace please. I’ve never finished making a film in my life. I’m like a baby, I get confused, tired, distracted, I forget to finish. It’s been that way with almost everything I make. I’ll write a script, and then tuck it away in a random folder in my computer. That was fun, now onto making cortados for rich women and woodworkers. I’m afraid of being disappointing, I’m afraid that I’m bad. I spent my twenties being afraid, feeling small, weak, and it blows, a bummer, a buzzkill, no one wants to be frowning at the function, cheer up tiny! Although I would love to be physically small, two feet or less, I hate feeling small in my heart. I want to be two feet tall with a six foot heart.
A friend told me that repetition is a tool for success. If you’re on the dance floor, repeat a mantra with the beat. I am gorgeous, I am rich, I am successful, I am a star. Gorgeous rich success star goregrichsucessstar gorrisusta. I’ve been having trouble being present in the moment, It’s hard to imagine myself as any of those things when I can’t stay active in a simple conversation. I am overthinking, I am useless, I am anxious, I am a big dumb dog. If I am mentally ill, could it please be a good one? Are you there God? It’s me, an idiot. Please make me delusional not depressed. The sad thing is I know that it would work! I need to be hit in the head with a shovel, rewire my brain big time. Anyone want to volunteer?
All in all, I’m doing pretty good LOL. We moved to Bushwick (do NOT judge me), and everyday I try to do three big things instead of just one (writing this counts). My internet doesn’t work, but I had a beautiful connection with the Optimum lady, we were bonded for life, I felt like I had to protect her, I even loved her a little. She told me that I made her day, because I was simply being nice and gassing her up. It made me a bit sad because I wasn’t even being that nice, which means everyone else she talks to is incredibly cunty. Gracey my girl QUIT YOUR JOB!!! If everyone quit their job, what then? In ninth grade I don’t remember why but my entire science class decided to just walk out the room. My teacher was baffled, but he couldn’t stop us. We sat outside and then came back in fifteen minutes later and like…went back to science class. We just wanted to see if we could, and guess what we did. If everyone in this country walked out of science class, what’s the big dogs gonna do? Shoot people probably. I hate the US government, I hate that they don’t take care of their citizens and then act like it’s our fault for being poor. What is the point of a government that takes our money to spend on stupid shit like weapons, war and military bases. I don’t want that shit I want to go to the doctor!!! If I ever go on Jimmy fallonKimmel I’m talking shit about Depaul University, the US government, Soho house, and anyone that has ever been mean to me. It will be a two hour show, and I’ll talk shit about the Jimmys too I don’t care I have nothing to lose.
Be nice to me!!!!