Heeeeeyyy. Heeeeey. My friend Liz called. I’m going to a screening tonight with the cast of White Lotus. I’m not exactly the type who didn’t believe in herself, like the shot of me getting ready isn’t someone who didn’t know what she was capable of? It’s someone who is confused. I made my choices based on where I came from. I wasn’t looking to make it, not until I started writing, but I didn’t want to harp on the subject, like make that a problem.

making it? Does that make sense? I didn’t think that I wanted to be in film, as some people think I’m actually a Duchess, it’s not — posh, necessarily, speaking of the Brits, to be an actress. Ew. Imagine? Charles? King Charles? “An actress?” That’s not happening. Not like it couldn’t, but I’m joking around. In any case, it’s much more… like, I’m so excited to go, how fun. I can’t totally get a read on myself, because no one was that interested in my opinion. Really! Amazing to me, thinking about going to this film event, with the guru telling me I’m special. I have something special. And now, I’m totally clueless as to what that was, is. I would love to be… regarded as good at something… or something… ?

I’m going to keep opening up to this idea, if you believe in manifestation, I appreciate that I’m getting the chance to go to…film and TV events. That happened naturally, out of nowhere, and it’s fun, I’m going to the Russian tea room this evening.

So my lampshades arrived, and they’re too big. I wanted electric blue. I ordered another kind of shade, so we’ll see. I’m watering my plants. I posted a working outline on my book blog, and then, I just let go of a stronghold on the club, and I’m just went through the story, and, at least, I got to the end. Is it true? That’s the only question here. So I’m going to take a deep breath, I’m sure people approaching writing a story differently, but why start writing until you figure out the idea? So now, I’m exhausted, truly. Like, this idea that I was intuitive, that… ruined my life. It was unnecessary. I was gifted, vaguely, um, at… capable of…meditating the book into existence, downloading the information…

Not to say I am not special, or a genius? I was truly confused. I was just a woman… in a cafe. Who came from a sex scandal. None of these men went off anything real. Only their psychic senses. No one is reading and going, you’re really really good at that. Reading something on the page. And no offense, this guru made mention of “really good writing,” but when I look at what I gave him, I’m truly confused. I’m confused as to why he did what he did. But again, I really don’t know why I got involved, but it took me this long to GET to choice, you see.

I wasn’t bad, I’m not bad, but that was a lot of fanfare over a girl. And if I had skipped all that, I would have been better off. Skipped the special stuff. Skipped it.

So I’m going to build up the energy again… I’ll keep staring at these notecards, now that I basically got to the end. I’m going to sit with these scenes now…that I mapped out. I’m going to keep running the story in my mind, taking it step by step… like, no one reading this is going to not believe me… no one is going to conclude that “she gave me away to a total stranger…” she paid a woman to protect me.

Was that true? I didn’t even have a room.

I feel like I have to keep on working up the courage to get back on the comedy circuit because I feel like I need to keep working on my approach… like maybe I should sit back and watch comedy for a moment… I’m still exploring a show, I get into a rehearsal room, and I’m going to work on Parting for MOTH… rather than Family Matters. To me, Family Matters is a different tone… I’m not sure if there’s a story that comes to mind… but parting, yes, just to say goodbye to all this. So I’m feeling exhausted today, staring at notecards. I would just pitch them, I guess, EPIC, but I have never written a story before… so being a journalist, or writing for psychedelics, none of what I did helped me at all. This is. I hope so. I’ve been so heartbroken over the waste of time my last decade was. I hope to be able to make some headway now… and I’ll keep thinking about a short series, something easy, to make — something I can film… so I think I might turn my wheel that way.

I somewhat lost the desire to continue, if that makes sense, though I always navigate around this moments…I didn’t want my life to revolve around that story? It didn’t until my thirties, and they were so horrible, that I’m sorry I even ever got started. I’ll keep figuring it out, just feeling SO normal, like beyond NOT special. So I’m going to sing. Like am I supposed to give speeches? Am I a remarkable person with wisdom to share? I suppose I’ll keep finding my way through these moments.

I can’t exactly afford therapy right now, meaning, more like a psychologist, as I feel like I got eaten alive, psychic, special, wrapped up in SETH books, or this fucking Hollywood guru, he was a total headfuck. The worst. So I’ll keep moving off my blog, but I feel a need to connect, even if it’s with no one, as I can’t connect with anyone in my life right now. And I am working on this story, and no one in my life really gets it, gets what IT is. But I always find relief in thinking about film or performance, or I’ll keep steering. So that’s it.