The Human Condition.
This week is the clusterfuck of all clusterfucks. Everything good, everything bad… It’s pretty much happened.
I started the week with a BANG, producing a short film on Tuesday morning from 2am to 11am. It was hellish, but went well overall. I don’t think I can complain too much about it since I have yet to see any of the footage, and I was more concerned about getting to bed. I slept 14 hours after that, so I’d say it went pretty well.
Yesterday was horseshit. One of my classmates didn’t have a single fucking person on his crew, and it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen performed. I had to do 5 different things at once, plus he didn’t have a fucking clue what he wanted going in. I know I might be a little harsh, but a project like this, you can’t fuck around. It’s how it goes. I take this shit seriously. I wish other people did, but I guess that’s how it goes.
Retarded Dystopian movies starring dead bitches don’t help my mood either.
And finally, last night, I wrote 4 1/2 pages of my first feature script. I didn’t feel the need to write more, even though I should have. I thought they were great. My teacher thought they were shit, but he and my classmates tried to help me. I was hurt because it was what I imagined in my head, but I guess that my vision isn’t always the best version of it. It still doesn’t feel too good.
Now? I’m reminiscing about not having a girlfriend, being a bit of a pervert, and accepting that I intentionally isolate myself in order to not get hurt because I’ve been hurt so many times. I’m also preparing for my first directing project in almost a year, which happens on this coming Wednesday.
I’m not stretching myself too thin anymore, but I’m still healing from stretching far beyond what I thought I could. It seems to me that for every good thing I do for someone else, a bad thing occurs to me personally. Why is this? Does the universe hate me so? I know I haven’t been great lately, but I try so damn hard…
I just wish that my efforts were rewarded with something more tangible, something less toxic, and something exciting to wrap around. I feel like I’m losing part of that spark that makes me me.
Maybe I’m just all balled up inside. Twisted, feeling under-appreciated, majorly hurt. Doesn’t matter how good things are going, I truly feel this way. What appears fine on the surface, isn’t necessarily what’s true deep within.
With my birthday around the corner, I have nothing planned, nothing to do, and everything I want to happen. I wish I didn’t feel like I was so alienated from my friends.
It all boils down to the question I always ask myself; Why is it I can save everyone else, but I can’t save myself?