So I had an audition this morning for a short film at Columbia. Along the way I thought, should I go into psychology? I’m afraid, I really am because I have no savings, no career, now looking at reporter jobs, like I can’t change I wasn’t thinking properly, and the last decade sort of killed the desire to even try again. I can’t even afford my own place right now, and that wasn’t always the case. I read from Mullholland Drive and I put on lipstick into camera as a neat woman and then, a Joker. I feel a little better, I think it went well, I tried to distill my play for the camera, do less, so as Clooney does: eyes. Communicate with eyes.
I was down today, the past decade makes it challenging to move forward sometimes, where I still struggle cognitively, particularly when I write, like the future stuff, the channeling tapes I was given, I truly suffer because of it, and it’s taken me YEARS to work out of it. I would say I’m strong, but man, the entire event deeply bruised me, so.
I don’t know what to do, because I feel like I’m not qualified for any job, and I really don’t know what to pitch or even what I want to write about, so I feel confused, and I’m going to maybe shift gears. I might drop writing, actually, a moment, and prioritize making money, maybe online. I just didn’t want to be here, so I still feel tight and tense as I’m figuring it out.
I’ll keep moving these pieces I’m writing along, but I feel like a salmon swimming upstream, mostly, when I write, just because it’s very hard. Other people function. It works for them. It doesn’t work well for me. I’ll keep working on them…but I sometimes actually want to give up. Just give up this pursuit.
I’m just trying to learn how to be a person again… not a sci-fi character… that really hurt. I’m having a tough day. The downloading INFO from the future routine, it crowds my head, it affects my heart, so sometimes feel like such a mess. Where I can’t type and I want to break something because “the channel your audience” routine is — horrific. Please get out of my head. It’s like, a river of tears. Please go. I wasn’t even asking for this.
I liked being just a woman you know, who wanted to write a book. I want her back. I want to erase the past decade. I’m trying to get back to mental stillness, I just want to erase these men. It makes writing confusing, because these ideas affected my ability to think clearly. And the “reach out to the future audience” idea of these Da Ben tapes seriously seriously affected me. I don’t know why. But it’s just terrible. I cannot even think when I write… sometimes.
I’m in some tiny room, fearing I’ll never own a house, I won’t meet someone, someone who I genuinely love, because I feel, personally, that love actually is what makes life worth living, and it took me a lot to work out what matters to me, or to be able to even consider what it is that I want, what it is I’m actually attracted to, and so, I’m feeling like I unraveled, and I’m trying to just get to a place of acceptance, like this is where I am. This is where I live. I don’t have anything. I made my decisions. It’s fine, these three days are a little tense because I work in a capacity I don’t want to. I’ll keep telling myself “I can move fast.” I don’t know how exactly. Just craving something that works.
I didn’t need to be psychic, you see, that was a useless detour. I’m pretty much past that, I worked out that part, so no more psychic, please. I disagree. Fuck you even. The only piece I have to work out is the guru who still haunts me, the future is pulling words out of me…or needing support in this way. Like I need support. I really didn’t need this.
So the goal is nothing. No more future. No more audience. No more fantasy. No more need to make it, “become amazing,” according to this guru, as if I weren’t already. Like fuck you. No more. No more attachments. It’s truly terrible, this downloading future info, it truly left me in ruins. Now it mostly spins when I’m tired. If I get excited too. It’s strange to have met only enablers, you know, just because this causes me anguish because of my mother’s wild imagination — like the guru.
So I was a river of tears today, just trying to deal with words on a page that build to a conclusion. Simple. I wish the guru spared me, really.
That’s the goal: nothing.
I’m just a woman, first a person. A regular person who isn’t speaking to animals or whatever — just the craziest.