"Why do I want to be famous?"

She asks incredulously?

"I haven't the foggiest," she replys to herself. Why do people respond to those of stature in such a manner? Why must we know every detail about a persons life, whom we know nothing about? Literally nothing. There are great amounts of coin, time and bumbling idiots absolutely wasted on determining who's humping who, who looks better in an identicaly overly priced sweater, and who hates and is fighting whith whom on an hourly basis. It makes me quite ill. Yet, I want to be a part of it. No that can't be right...I can't imagine someone choosing this life let alone wishing for it. So what the hell is it that I actually want. I mean we spend ridiculous amounts of everything invested in people we have never spoken to nor seen in the flesh and all they have done to deserve such obsession is that they have entertained our meager imaginations for a few fleeting hours. Disgusting. It's not like I go to the circus and follow Mifty, Nifty, or Cornstarch the Clown around with drool hanging off the side of my face. Bruce Willis is not really an action hero in reality. He may wander around drunkenly beating on people but this does not a witty and handsome action star make. So why do these entertainers on the big screen, not offering much more than a cheap thrill at a resonable price hold such sway over the populace? Yes they are our much more attractive and wealthy counterparts, but they're still just people with fears and questions. They have relationship issues and family feuds. So why do we, no, why do I want that lifestyle? Perhaps when I was younger I longed for fame because it was magical. That world could offer me the world. Now, I see that world as the repulsive, irritating and useless monster it truly is. Maybe it's not the fame that drives me. Perhaps it's the money. I love money. I have a great relationship with money. What's wrong with admitting that I want to be rich. Wait, stinking rich. Nope...fucking rich. I want people to look at me and say, "That chick is fucking rich." I don't even need people to say or think it actually, scratch that. I just need to know it. Maybe, it's the power. I kinda want the kind of power that cannot be stripped from me by obscene spending. This power of agency is formidable, but eventually comes to an end...usually abrupt and destructive. So if I want true power, and I don't want to have to worry bout how my hair looks with my disgustingly priced cashmere tubetop...than what is it that I want? A big fish in a little pond might be nice. Copious amounts of coin might also be nice...and the time to do it all. A little travel, nope a lot of travel. Someone who loves me and so on. So, maybe pursuing a lifestyle that seems so plastic and artificial is not the best idea I've had. Afterall I don't need constant reassurance of my talent drenched awesomeness by those bumbling idiots I so detest. Maybe getting paid to do what i love would make loving what I do more difficult, nay impossible. Perhaps keeping them separate would allow for less pressure and more love. No worry about ticket sales, just that people appreciate what i bring to them and come back for more. Afterall, Cornstarch needs a hand with his back-flip-twisty-doodle and Nifty has been way too over the big-top lately.

Where have all the people gone?

I understand technology. I love technology. There are days however, when I truly believe in the deepest recesses of my heart that we would be better off with less; Less information, less doo-dads to busy our constant thoughts, less security and more honesty. I wish the world could exist as it did a few years ago, cept without the ignorance and hostility. I want to live in an environment where people still meet face to face. We can hear a persons voice and view their facial complexities. With so much information at our very fingertips all hours of the day, we've lost sight of what's important and what it takes to exist as a fully functioning peaceful society. I spend endless hours on computers, cell phones, ipods that sometimes I think I've lost sight of the fact that there are people in my life that I would like to touch base with instead of viewing there facebook page and piecing together what little clues they infer about themselves. Perhaps it's just the tools I am using specifically that drive me to distraction or it's the fact that on an average day, I hardly relate to any human beings at all. I can carry out the smallest most menial tasks by way of the internet that nearly send me spinning...if I were to truly stop typing for a second to think about it. I could order a pizza, pay for it and consume it through a virtual feeding tube(patent pending) and all of this would be carried out by cyberspace with little to no human contact. I miss the human touch. I miss a time when we were forced to leave our homes cuz that damn china hutch wasn't going to come to me dammit! I must admit we truly have it fucking made. With so much technology to free up our lives, we have a helluva lot of time to think. I now have time to ponder my place in this world and if I really matter. Some heavy topics have surfaced which render me often quite incapacitated. I don't mind being intelligent and tackling these thoughts but I have so much goddamn time on my hands, it's all I fricken do! Once upon a time, we had to work to survive...literally. We had to perform so many tasks just to create a tasty spread for our freshly baked bread that we had no time to complain, covort, or contemplate things beyond our capability of understanding. Things are advancing so rapidly, that soon we won't require the human touch on much. I'm not saying we should impede progress, all I want is to look at something still while I'm spinning round to prevent me from holding true to what's real and what is relevant. I want a human being to answer the phone when I call my bank. I want a human being to read from his national best seller surrounded by a group of fellow sponges instead of reading the bloody thing on the internet. Something has to be said for the human quality. Technology has progressed to such an extent that my life is incredibly simple. At the touch of a button I could talk to my sister half way across the country, or make an atom bomb. We could save the economy by using less technology and more people. Lets do away with the back hoe and the bob cat and bring back the fucking shovel. I appreciate how easy my life is, but is it really? People these days may live longer because of our technological advances/breakthroughs...but we have more stress, more heart disease and more worry than we ever have before....What should I do with my life? Where should I live to maximize the quality of existence? Who should I be with? Why am I here? If a tree falls in the forest...blah blah blah. If I had a set role and my life was about staying alive and living as best I could for a few years, wouldn't we all be much happier? Our childrens lives would have purpose and so on and so on. Right now our children walk into their schools to be greeted by metal detectors and armed men collecting nail files. Is it that society is too advanced for the creatures that dwell within it, is it that parents are not present, is technology forcing children to live beyond their ages? beyond their means? I want a life I can be proud of, but how can that exist if I can't find my place in this mess of wires and keyboards? Our options are endless and therein lies the heart of the issue. How are we a liberated and intelligent society when we couldn't function if our computer crashes and our cell phone dies? We are not so far from happiness...we just need a reminder once in a while of how life should be lived...not viewed vicariously on a screen, in the dark, at our moms house.

Not sure why...

but i have a sinking suspicion that i will die alone; And not perish in the manner that inevitably we all die alone, but in the manner that I will be without love on my death bed. I have come to terms with that fact and i am ok...sort of. Why do we attempt to mate for life? I use the word attempt very loosely cuz I ain't seein a whole helluva lot of effort...on any of our behalf. We pair off for the simple fact of reproduction. Intellectually we are all well aware that we will at some point in our short and useless lives succumb to a change that is out of most of our hands: evolution. We evolve in personality, spirit...our goals adapt and change...our affinity for a particular brand of potato chip will undeniably partake in great growth and advancement...so why in the hell do we expect ourselves to react exactly the same to the very person who has also undergone such transformations? It's ridiculous to me that human beings are still as high as we are on the food chain. Actually i suppose we aren't considering it's just our sheer numbers that prevent our timely and eventual downfall at the hands of scientists and their petri dishes. No longer must we protect the population from demise however, no longer is it imperative that a child has a fathers last name, and no longer do we find ourselves in a time where labels were as important as a persons actions. Why than, do I still crave the arms of the opposite sex? Not only the arms but the thoughts, hopes, dreams, love of another human being who "gets me?" I want not of children...I want not of dashed futures in an inevitable divorce or worse, death...I want not to fit a personae someone has laid out for me out of comfort and complacency and because they don't know the fucking answer either...I want love because...I do. That's not an answer I know, but it's what comes out. I want a connection with another human being that strikes me somewhere deep, somewhere lost but not forgotten. I want to know someone inside and out...fears and all. I want someone to share brilliant and illusive moments with. Even though that sunset was stunning, if two sets of eyes have been witness to the splendor, it somehow makes it real. Maybe that's what I long for...a reality that's real. There are those moments, those stand still moments where the world takes notice and watches you and your happiness. I miss those moments and i want them back. It just takes so much fucking work! Fuck it's a lot of work. So much needs to be present for those type of moments to come together. Am I lazy or just really tired...tired of telling my story, tired of waiting for the bottom to drop and when it doesn't, waiting a little longer. Even with all of those obstacles, I still want it. Maybe there is no long term...that. Perhaps the best I can hope for is what I've been witness to. Maybe I should stop putting so much fucking pressure on this whole situation I call existence and just chill the fuck out....hmmm...sounds like an idea.

Where does the love go?

When you spend moments of your life with someone, when you have integrated yourself into their friendships, family and existence...what happens to the love once shared? What happens to those inexplicable emotions that seem to run so deep that nothing tangible could ever seemingly touch them? Does a love once expressed float on breath to wind to nothing? Does it evolve into something else...like hatred, anxiety and eventually death? When there is no longer any hope of a lingering relationship in any sense of the word...what happens to the love? Does it wait patiently in the belly of your soul...cautious yet so willing for the next bout? Not quite disturbed but infinitely fearful? Can one person keep it alive in a sense that it never really goes anywhere...it still exists, unchanged and grounded in something bigger than oneself? Maybe it never changes...it stagnates in the gut like a putrid festering mess until it no longer resembles anything but decay and disgust, dying with the person holding on to it the most. Or perhaps, it moves as the wind blows...silent and flexible. Always changing, breathing, feeding, but never manifesting longer than a whisper. Maybe it disintegrates to such a degree that one begins again with each new situation...there is no lasting love, only attachment and memories with evidence of what was in a dusty picture book on a forgotten shelf. I have loved. I have witnessed love decompose so untimely that it rarely resembles its former glory. Perhaps I place to much emphasis on it all. Maybe love will never be my savior. Perhaps my sanctity lies in the doing and not the feeling. I wonder though if what i have felt and what I am feeling now will ever allow me to learn. Will i continue to make these absurd errors in judgement that keep me postponing my life and dreams? Does love ever die, or are we so blessed with the ability to remember as well as forget? Time heals all, right? If you love and the person who is lucky enough to receive your heart forsakes it...confuses it so that he or she cannot see what truly matters...what happens to their love? Have they buried it in such a way that it no longer hurts? Some day that will surface. Some day there will be regret. Some day there will be enlightenment and when that day comes...I won't be there. Don't you see how your decisions have made your love leave? Abandonment at a cost. Maybe I have taken love for granted...it is after all a privilege, not a right. I wish more people understood that...we'd all treat each other a hell of a lot better. Will my unreciprocated heart thoughts wait patiently for the next time? Will there even be a next time? Sometimes I think I've used up all my turns and the carny will scream in my face, "You're too tall for this ride!" And I will sulk away, forever alone and trapped in my head with forty-seven kitties to keep me company until I pass away from starvation and the kitties eat my organs...better that than wasting away in some blind kid with kidney failure and a heart murmur. That could be good...right now at least.

I am so grateful

Well, most of the time...not so much right now. I am grumpy. Could be caused by a great many thing, and at this current minute, I have no clue as to what is affecting me more. Usually though, I am grateful for several, simple things that we all overlook on a daily basis:
-I have all of my fingers and toes(appendages a plenty)
-I am pretty intelligent(or at least I fake it really well)
-I am cute...yeah I said it...most people hate that term when describing themselves but I'm cool with it.
-My senses are highly developed and serve me rather well
-I have a loving family, though spread to the winds, we are deeply connected
-My friends are few...my real friends...but mighty
-I have lots of coin
-I am gifted with creativity and use it whenever i can
-Most of all, I am grateful to be alive.

I miss theatre however. I miss being immersed in something greater than myself and any other moving part. I need, no, crave something to occupy my thoughts. Idle hands and all that bullshit. I haven't done a production since February of this year...no wonder I'm so pissy. If you are not fully participating in what you love, what's the fucking point? I'm not in a position right this moment to do anything highly spontaneous or creative and that has left me frustrated and ansy. I could rub one out, but that would take not nearly enough time or energy...I've gotten pretty fast. I miss meeting new and equally as driven beings who i can relate to on levels most people only ponder. I miss getting drunk with those whose opinion counts for something more than how my day was, or what i ate for breakfast. I want substance. I want time to stand still. I want to be a part of something that, though not particularly life saving, motivates and inspires. I want to do it full time dammit. No more shit day jobs that make me want to wretch. No more ridiculous coworkers to avoid. I am grateful for the productions I've been involved in thus far...I just want more...always more. I suppose I'm grateful for that as well.

Asian people are funny...

That is all.

Ode to Jon Stewart

It doesn't take much to happen in my life for me to smile...disregard the previous writing...I am a chick and although I cringe whilst stating that wretched fact, it is indeed true and occasionally taints my version of how the world is at any particular moment. So, my needs as of this very moment in space and time(if they've ever existed), are as follows:

-Beer
-Pizza
-an evening with the Simpsons and the Office
-someone who loves me with every ounce of his being and chooses me over all else...cept maybe his mom, unless she's a real cunt, than he can totally fawn over me for all the days of his life...
-and finally, Jon(brilliant fuck)Stewart

How i love that man. He embodies everything a girl could want...he's generous, kind, hilarious, his intellect rivals many...although it's not just his intelligence I find so alluring...it's his ability to carry on a conversation with some of our times most prophetic and productive members of society, and spin this timeless knowledge into something someone as slow as me can grasp. He's a family man, which means he can care for someone other than himself and the love that he expresses for that family makes me want to tear his clothes off and bone him stupid on that slick little anchor desk of his. He is obviously financially and MENTALLY stable, caring, attractive in subtle ways...to think what i could do with that giant snoze, and he brings just a little bit of light into my otherwise dreary and hopeless state. Our relationship exists only half an hour out of every day, but functions as so much more...we've laughed and cryed together...shared things that two people should maybe keep to themselves. He's always honest to me, confident in every stroke of his news pen on that fake news paper, and he never fails to do exactly what he says he'll do. Apart from the whole him being on tv and us never having physical contact...ever...he has to be the most healthy, functional, sustainable relationship I have in my life...I am going to drink myself into oblivion now...see all ya'll in a few days.

Never fucking happy!

EVER!!! I honestly don't believe that I will ever be fucking happy. I also can't believe it has taken me this amount of time to figure it out. I want and want...more and more...of everything. When something comes to me in my life, I briefly think "thanks" and than move on to what else could i possibly accomplish, see, do, be, learn...whatever. What is it in me that makes me feel this way? I am never happy with anything until I suppose, the thing I thought was making me miserable was really not so bad. Is that how I am to live my life though? Ah, it's not so bad? It could be worse? That is bullshit! I crave bigger and better so frequent that I am rendered a crying mess on the floor because I'm just not there yet. And...when I get to this magical, mythical place of fulfillment, I'm sure even then I will be complaining about something: "Well, this isn't as nice as I'd thought it be...I mean yeah I'm fulfilled in every way humanly possible, but where's my damn acknowledgement?" Maybe that's all anyone ever needs...validation. Nope, I need more. I see so many people with their shit together...in a societal sense...you know like how people think they should be living their lives...but is that what I want? Are my needs overshadowed by someone else's version of what I want from my existence? Or do I want the picket fence and pies on windowsills? How do I even know what I want? At this moment I know i am to belong somewhere else...but where??? I hate so much that I've forgotten what i care about. Are those people really so happy? Do they really have it all? Or do they just put on a better show? I am sick of the show...that's part of the reason I'm an actor...I can be in one, than leave it for the reality of something better I've hopefully created. Am I even that? How can I call myself any sort of label when I do nothing? Crap...now I am rambling and making no sense. I'm such a fraud...a fake...why am I the only one pretending? Where the hell do the rest of you get off? Maybe I'm not pretending...the only one and that's why I feel so alone...left behind...i mean afterall, the show must go on...

I want to be an elephant.

Not just because they are beautiful, wise, majestic and massively awesome but because of how they have, over the centuries, grasped a concept absolutely foreign yet highly functional to man. Also, they are one of natures many brilliant species who appreciate a heftier woman...in fact it's nearly a must...the bigger they are, the more coveted they seem. A day in the life of these prehistoric packaderms is as follows: the female and male genders, get together, make sweet, sweet ginormous love and than the woman elephant proceeds to kick the male out of the herd altogether, once conception has occurred, of course. Brilliant...absolutely. You see, the females have learned over time(and being the type of gal that never forgets), that having the men involved in any part of the herd is actually overly detrimental to the evolution of the species as a whole. It seems the women grew weary of dealing with the males shit. Tired of handling all of the insecure, whiney, unsubstantiated nonsense that follows men around like a dark fart cloud. The female elephant decided a milennia ago that in order to stay alive and keep her future generations safe, that it was absolutely imperative she banish the men from the group. No more would she have to worry about what she was doing to piss off her man and therein wasting precious energy, time and intellect...no more fights about inconsequential things...no more jealousy, childish behavior over nothing and no longer would she have to subject herself to the onslaught of males lack of confidence or intelligence. She chose no longer to be witness to the battle between other males, the disruption and the chaos that ensues when a male screws around with your best friend right in front of the whole herd, than kills your child only to have another go at you. Woman elephants no longer had to worry about how silky there skin was, or how clean there trunks were because the element of competition was entirely removed. Take out the one difficulty an entire group is having and boom-bada-boom, peace takes precedence. The women realize that men do play a role, a very large role...how else could the species prevail without his massive elephant slong? Why they couldn't. But as effortlessly as it was to realize the magnitude of such a decision, women elephants went, "Screw this noise" and evicted the immaturity and selfishness right out the bush of the saranghetti. I think most society's could really prosper by adopting this practice. All that would be required is a large group of lesbians, some food for distraction and some select weaponry. Women know that when we get together, we have the capability of being supportive, accepting, efficient, intelligent problem solvers. We could maintain the species and promote evolution in one fail swoop. Also, you don't see females roaming through the forest, lost, hungry and searching for a sense of direction...we'd never be lost again. It's not as though the men would be any less off either. They would have other dudes to hang with, shit to still fight about I'm sure and the security of knowing, hey, my giant donkey dick really gets me action. If anyone knows some beefcake lesbots willing to set up a sweet society...send them my way.

What to do?

...when you haven't a clue...literally none...not a single iota, whisper, breath of an idea what I am going to do right now. I am scrambling in a sea of other's voices and have yet to find my own. It's as if I am at this precipice...this really important crossroads(as important as any human decision goes) where which path I choose to follow will have consequences unimaginable. There seems to be so very many options available to me right now that I am so confused and overwhelmed...makes it tough to pick any one so I am abstaining from choosing any. Is that any way to live a life? Afraid to make a wrong step that you just stop walking altogether. Maybe that's a good thing...you know, stopping to smell the rotting leaves and winter waiting ground. I watched a man today raking his leaves out front of his house. He raked and raked one spot over and over, only to know that tmrw he may very well be out there again performing a tedious and useless task. I feel like that...raking leaves in an endless pile that never grows larger nor blows away...always there, needing to be raked only to be raked again. Perhaps doing nothing right now would be good for me. Maybe my head will mercifully clear and all will become crystal. I know I cannot stay where I am, or go back to where I was, in a mental and emotional sense...physically is still up in the air. So where to now? This odd stalemate btw me and my thoughts has to come to some sort of a resolution, does it not? Or maybe the copious amount of beer I've been consuming will just wipe me clean and clear and out of control. Damn subliminal commercial messaging...

The kicker I'm sure is that all of this angst and anxiety will pass as with everything that has or ever will occur and I will look back and wonder why I was so fucked up when the answers come when they are needed. A wise friend of mine once said "You have all the power to ask the questions and none of the power to answer them". That blows. I will forever spend my life searching and for what? To search? To aid others in finding answers? To spend the time i have in this super sexy form bewildered and broken forever more cuz someone this attractive must be fatally flawed or it wouldn't be fair for the rest of the world? Brain cells beware...Rhandi's a comin with a six pack of beer.

Part 7...

We're all just ants scrambling on a mound, waiting for the queen. I would like to speak to her supervisor. How unimportant am I? No really tell me...I think it would suit my ego to know. Will anything I ever do make a difference in the world, the lives of others? If not, how do i attain a sense of accomplishment? Things I love will never save lives. Who is this queen and does she ever feel like I do? If not, what fills her time, her mind?

I'm not sure why I'm crying...I don't have it so bad. I expected somehow for the words to look differently, but they're still mine, they haven't changed. Why am I so sad? Drip, drip, drip. The faucet matches my tears. Will my body ever match my insides...maybe that's the problem, they do and I hate them both. I don't want to be the girl people pass their time with...stalling for something better. There has to be something better than this, something not so sad. Not so sad could be nice. Than what would I cry about? I would cry for others or maybe for joy and my tears would match the faucet...drip, drip, drip...a happy sound.

If I could, I would have my heart broken everyday, if the day after, I could fall in love once more.

Part 6...

I feel very complacent about everything...is that a feeling? I'm not even high. That'd be nice right now: beautiful, blissful, mind-numbing, NUMBNESS. It's good to be numb and dumb, to succumb to the abyss, lost in abundance. I want to "blow someone away"...knock them off their feet. What should I be doing? Right now...tmrw...the day after? What makes me happy? Why is my happiness rarely sustainable? Will anything I ever do, matter? Ever? To anyone? To me? If today were my last day, what would I be doing? So obsolete I feel, so invisible. Even if the world knew my name, would that make any difference? If we all have the same problems, thoughts, fears, goals...why do I feel so alone? And even more so when i see correlation btw myself and the masses. I wish I was high...forgetting why you don't matter may be the only way to go. "Nobody gets me." Well fuck you, you're not so special. I get you...you're an ass. Sometimes I care so much that my heart might implode killing me and the few surrounding individuals that can still tolerate me, instantly. Other times I just can't care and feel as if I could never care again, about anything. I'm a horrid, stupid girl. I want to be a good person. I don't know if I could do it without truly knowing I'm faking it.

Part 5...

I don't want to be addicted to drugs anymore. I feel good right now, and guilty and lonely and maybe a little itchy. I feel a tiny bit itchy...and scratchy...like I'm one but inside always two. I don't want my life to exist only for the next cough. I don't want to be complacent, apathetic. So much garbage...I quit picking it up. All over a boy, I'm quite fucked up. "He's just not that in to you..." why did that come a year late. Stealing a nice cozy place in hell, pushing everyone away, it's not enough to pray for mercy...I've tried. Nothing helps ease this pit in my stomach, always tense and on alert. So sad...too bad...you've wasted too much time thinking.

When did that happen?

Facebook serving as society's cure for all psychosis, that is. Like seriously, what the fuck? I have witnessed, nay, been aghast to some of the ridiculous things people post on their pages. Now, I am as open minded as they come and it's your page, do with it whatever you like; but when you're posting things that are on your mind like, "I can't deal with my life anymore. I'm pregnant again for the fourth time...what happens if I go totally insane...what do i do anyone please, I can't do this and I'm serious I can't please help me and I'm not kidding this time." Now imagine that with far worse grammar and punctuation. Really? Pregnant for the fourth time heh? Several of her "what's on your mind" comments that followed were roughly the same nonsensical melodramatic drivvel. Not sure how to spell that...When did Facebook become this therapeutic forum where people bared their souls to the entire world(or the few people who can stand them)? Not only do they unsheath their most helpless, confused, angry thoughts, but others actually buy into it and attempt to console or aid these obscure and ridiculous nonsense laden babbling idiots. I'm sure in a moment of anguish(according to you and your idiocy), you think you feel as though the world exists only to offend and attack so you, in a feat of sheer helplessness, turn to good old technology to get you through your time of need. I am sorry, but posting on Facebook that you are sad does not make me want to reach out to you...cept to punch you in the face. Grow up. If you truly have issues as you claim to have, facebook is not the missing link to your salvation or sanity. Yes, idiots who call themselves your friends will kindly make passing remarks as to your well being: "Oh my goodness, are you ok?" or "Cheer up, God blessed you with what you have for a reason" Wank Wank, capital WANK. First of all, God has nothing to do with facebook. Secondly, if they were truly your friends, they would be doing a little more about your desperate pleas than "poke" you, or post something on your wall. Thirdly, if you had any sense whatsoever, you wouldn't post something seriously affecting you for the world to comment on. No one is interested in your bullshit. When did the world become so interested in the fact that I'm on the rag and this boil on my ass looks like one of the three wise men...the fat one. It didn't, so keep your personal and traumatic details of your meaningless existence to yourself and your therapist. Now before you go drowning your current children and stabbing yourself in the belly, just remember...facebook is fun. Crap fun where we can all spy on each other to compare relationships, experiences, and other shit that really doesn't mean anything. It is designed to keep us all connected(cuz we've gotten too lazy and complacent), and for shameless self promotion. On a site where I can do a quiz about How Horny Am I, I don't feel it quite the venue to allude to suicide. Finally, get some birth control, close your fucking legs, and I shall be deleting you from my formidable list of "friends" cuz you're totally cramping my carefree style you fucking fuck.

Fellow employees...lick my sweaty ball sack!

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Sleep...it's overrated...

I can't stop...I won't stop...thinking, that is. Fuck. Sometimes being so damn brilliant is a curse...a curse i tell you! Sad thoughts, happy ones...dirty ones, sigh...doesn't matter cuz they all keep a person up at night. I feel left out of peoples lives...it may just be me, doing it to myself. Nope. I know it's me. It's tough to keep up with people when you are away from them. I suppose my mom and sister and I keep pretty good tabs on one another but it takes a lot of work. Perhaps I'm lazy. Nope. I know I'm lazy. And petty. People move on, "grow up" .... whatever that means... *fart* and I suppose I feel somewhat left behind. I do however have the tendency to see what I want to see...I know I never take in the whole picture...JJ is sooo good at doing that. It's like after our awesome three months in Europe, I could only see the great stuff, which there was an abundance of, and had totally erased the shitty parts. The same goes for other peoples lives. I pick a moment, based on it, judge the hell out of it until my head feels like it's about to pop right off, and forget the rest as though the rest never occurred. I look at all of the people I hold dear to me(well, some of them I don't really speak to so they don't count in this equation...see, I'm doing it right now), and they are getting hitched, having kiddos, blahblahblahblahblah...and I feel so removed from it all. I want adventure, spontaneity, sex, success, and wealth beyond my wildest dreams. I know we all take different routes to achieve all that shit and more...but why does mine seem so far off from everyone else's? Am I missing out, or are they? Or is anybody? Maybe when I get it all, I'll want the stuff i'm abandoning now...or I'll die alone with no heir to my vast, vast, vast fortune...like Mr. Burns....or my cats will eat my face after i perish in a tragic fur ball incident...like the Crazy Cat Lady...I have got to lay off the simpsons. I'm super stoked for everyone in my life right now cuz they all seem so happy, but I also wish them death by cat chomps. Why am I jealous of people making decisions that aren't in my plans? Am i a control freak? Or smaller than I thought? Go, fall in love, procreate...I mean, it's what we're supposed to be doing...right?

THE NUMBER ONE REASON HUMANITY SUFFERS...

is because I love cheese. It's true. I LOVE CHEESE! I will put cheese on or with any meal I am munching; and any type will do. All cheese is good cheese. Therein lies the one, true legitimate reason why we as human beings suffer. My attachment to cheese brings me great joy, and also causes me an ideal amount of pain. What happens when I go to the store and they are out of a particular delicious type of cheese I was craving? That would make me very sad. If I were not attached to the precious rotten dairy product or the outcome of it's very existence when I crave it...my life would be void of so much agony. The same goes for everything and anyone. Yes, cheese is awesome, but I would like to think that I pick my battles when screaming at poor under payed and over worked grocery clerks.

If I were not attached to how I felt about someones opinion of me, I would be spared a ridiculous amount of heart ache. There would be a lot less confusion, anger and silence in my relationship with, we'll call him JJ, if I could get past the fact that I am attached to how he feels about my every waking move. Why am I so attached to everything and how does it seem to happen without me? I honestly do not realize the state or sheer level of attachment I have reached until it is entirely too late and I've manifested some sort of emotional scene which usually ends in my crying somewhere dark and him angrily driving somewhere, anywhere other than where I am. Why do I choose to grip onto things and people? Can I experience no or less enjoyment if I didn't? I am positive that i wouldn't be so apt to freak out and push others away if i could just understand why I glom on and won't let go. Can I not enjoy cheese without being attached to it? I think there is a distinct difference btw liking something and being attached to it....to it's outcome of being available, or not. If the havarti I want is no longer available for the rest of my existence, I am sure i would forget all about its deliciousness and move on to something else, a nice gouda perhaps...so if I can let go eventually...why can't I let go in the moment, relinquish my need for control and accept the fact that attachment is only something I've born out of habit and insecurity...if only cheese wan't so damn awesome!

Love? Or something like it...

Like attachment. I have found in my many years of searching for the guy...that love and attachment exist together, oh for sure...but can they exist apart? I know I have loved...in fact I am in love as we speak...well you're not speaking, you're just supposed to be listening...shhhhhhh, I'm talking. I also know that I have been so very attached to another human being that scrapping the relationship became ever so difficult, nay, nearly friggin' impossible. You get attached...to their awesome friends, their wicked family(hopefully) and the stuff that you wish you had spent money on but now aren't required to cuz, hey...he's got it! Could one love without being attached? Is that remotely possible? Buddhists believe that the most prevalent reason humanity suffers is because of our attachment to... everything. I have trouble throwing out a pair of jeans that are filthy, riddled with not so sexy holes and that fall down constantly...how am I to fair in loving another human being, or rather, attaching myself to another human being. It's our downfall as people to cling on to the shit that will kill us...either cuz it feels so damn good, or we don't know any different. Love without attachment...i like that notion but would it still be love? Or would that exemption turn love into something fundamentally different? Would love still be love? Or would it be like chicken...tasting like all other emotions? I suppose that brings up the very question of what love is and how we define it. Is love a boy and a girl at a bus stop...their eyes meet and in that fleeting moment she falls for him and him her, they play out a deliciously savage and fulfilling relationship in the span of a few milliseconds-they get married, have babies, die in each other's arms...than the bus arrives, he gets on, she does not and that is the end of it? In that perfect moment did they share a life together? Did they learn to hate what they use to find so endearing about the other? Perhaps those moments reveal to us how love should be...fleeting, inconsistent, brilliant, overwhelming, and than just plain over? Why is it that love can include attachment but it doesn't go the other way? I am attached to a great many thing, but I don't believe I am in love with it. I've attached myself to other people...does that make love? Or make them love me? It's so hard to separate the two because we spend our lives combining them...making them coexist, so to tear them apart, perhaps one would feel lonely for a time...and than we'd replace it with something else. If I knew in my heart of hearts that something was over and attachment had never played a role, would I be able to walk away and him as well because the love is gone? Why waste what time we have holding on to something burning out? Or maybe the attachment is necessary for the breaking apart of two people once enamored...no, it just keeps you in a bad place longer than you have to be. Maybe sometimes attachment is all most people ever get. They can't tell the difference btw love and attachment b\c they've never felt the former. I wonder if you'd know though...like in your soul(yeah I went there), if that was enough. Attachments fine and dandy for my African Violet (that just won't die...little trooper), but I think I'll stick to the incapacitating real stuff...if I even know what that is.

I wonder if...

I was not nor never was involved in the arts...would my life be somehow similar. My mom says the professions her and I have chosen to follow will, eventually alienate us both from what we truly want...the almighty L word. Love without restraints, without judgement or condemnation...bursting with support, confidence, communication and constant butterflys...you know what I'm talking about. Perhaps being an actor sets me apart from people for a reason...does not play well with others? Why can't one have it all? The booming career, the perfect partner, and the fulfilling moments that make life liveable? Must we choose only one? Will that choice come but more importantly, will we know when it has? I exist in worlds of competition, sort of, with other human beings for a dream. I suppose for all of us it's different...for me, recognition would be lovely. Perhaps if I were to be recognized however, the money that inevitably follows said recognition would alienate me from what I truly love. Does your dream become a burden when money is a factor? When is money not a factor? Why does someone like Tiger Woods get ackowledged for what he does to such an extent? Is it because we all see his love for the game and want him to succeed b/c we are desperate to have that in our own lives? Or is it because we are desperate to be taken out of our own unfulfilled existence and need to be entertained...to forget, to live vicariously...whatever...I suppose if I had his type of recognition...I would no longer continue to love it. The money would overshadow it all. Or maybe, I would do something amazing with it and show the rest of these assholes how it's to be done. I'm far too impatient for anything to come to me, even answers. Or in fact, perhaps my love of the stage would grow exponentially at finally reaching a goal, if only to set another. I would never want to get to a point where I resent the one thing that has always held true...but is that necessary? Would a financial incentive boost my love or bury it somewhere dark and sinister where I will never want to visit again? Should I continue with the rat race just b/c it's there and stick to theatre as a hobby? I hate that word...doesn't quite do a passion justice. Does making a "go" of it make any difference in the end result? Will fear always be a part of every decision I make? Dammit...now I'm rambling...

Part 4...

In this moment I am happy. "Exactly the kind of radical thinking I need." Ever so fleeting; brief; swift; speedy...I likey zee cesaurus. Reading, I hope, will become a true pasttime of mine. It's so often difficult to be truthful. Why? Is honesty too boring? Too scary? Too much? *BREATHE* I miss all day long. Trapped...never feeling love nor hate, just the tap-tap-tapping of my wooden heart...the termites are back. I'm tired of being lonely, Leeko should wake up. I wish I could live in a series of plastic tubes; Reality would never find me. if he tried, I would say, "Fuck you Reality," and run away. I miss nature, too much flith in a city. I miss being held...at arms length. I'm always missing Him. Who is it this time? It cannot matter...they're all the same.

Part 3...

I'm writing for the sake of writing. No fanciness, no righteousness...just words describing feelings. I'm hurting. Any real emotion must be perpetually accompanied by messy writing, salty tears, and the acknowledgement that one such as I feels. Alone, or lonely? Do I ever not pretend? Why so fake, why so faulty? Need more fuel...pause for toke. Unconditional love...easily bought. "Git yer unconditional luv here!" I miss conversation with someone I can kiss. Music played to smoke. The O's. The connection. The comedy.

Part 2

WAITING...WAITING...Waiting!!! So frustrated I forgot to capitalize. I spend, of my perhaps non-precious time, waiting for others so I may feel something other than negative emotions. I want to start my life. Always bated breath b/c my reliance on others is too goddamn consuming. Will I look back and regret everyday for i was living for someone else? So cynical! I run like the mouse...perpetually tired and aggravated. I miss, I want, I will. Or so I say. If I were ever to begin my life...would it be any more productive or meaningful than now? This very moment? Maybe that's why...I'm afraid that it won't. I long to be happy...myself, so I won't require so much of someone who doesn't even know my favorite color!!! Don't love someone who doesn't belong to you...like a puppy! I'm stoned

OKAY!!!

written many a year ago

The Actual Archives...Part 1

There may be days when the entries seem somewhat more...cryptic. Don't be afraid...just take from it what you will...

Our brains trick us...love, lust, hate, depression, happiness...all emotion and the everyday clutter with which we live are all distractions by our brain. It wants us to think we're important...It wants us to be occupied so we don't catch on. The ultimate conspiracy. As I write, "Everybody Loves Raymond" distracts my thoughts about what's really going on. We fill It with selfish thoughts of why my place on this planet means something b/c if we really knew what was going on we'd have no purpose...and our heads would pop right off, I'm sure. We wouldn't strive to live meaningful lives nor would we search out "the one" for us. Does chance exist? Does predestination exist? Why are we here if we are only fooling ourselves into being important if our brain knows better? Are we not ready to know? The ultimate conspiracy...oh, time to forget...turn on the t.v...is the truth that bad or just that simple? Written circa 2003...

Is it just me...

or does watching the news make anyone else want to slit their throats? Seriously, I have never seen so much negativity spewed forth by an uncaring, seemingly unscathed or unaffected group of people so smartly dubbed, the Newscaster...

Now it's not as though I require these people to sob and weep at every headline or gruesome story, but a little emotion on their otherwise cold and sculpture like faces would be somewhat helpful. Why is it that this kind of unadulterated violence is so displayed not once a day but four, five, and on some stations, even more than that. You wouldn't let your children watch a two hour movie with sex, drugs, and bloody gore, so why is the news allowed to portray the world in all of its negative splendor eighty five times a day? You may be saying, well don't watch it if it bothers you...well, I don't need to watch it to be overwhelmed by it. Those at work, on the street, at the damn bus station remark for lack of anything productive to spew about, "Have you heard about...?" or "Did you hear...?" It's everywhere. I am not naive. I understand there are a lot of whackos, sickos, fuckos, that should have done to them what they've done to others, but why must we be inundated with this kind of nonproductive and futile knowledge. Yeah, I understand the world is fucked...I would like to keep my piece of it less so...that includes no news. I was in Europe when Michael Jackson died. I didn't find out until three weeks later that he had kicked it...and I believe I am a better person for it. I won't even begin on the entertainment news which laughably calls itself so...another entry, another time. I get that perhaps the demographic(the elderly who don't get out, some are scared to go out and why? They watch the news and in their sheltered life, become scared of the world in which they've grown up in.) with which the news pertains to, appreciates watching the horror unfold, but personally i would prefer to escape from reality in a non-fiction book, or plunking away on my guitar...you know living my life not fearing death by gang or falling plane. Than again, I suppose it's just me.

I live in a building filled with retards...

actual retards so don't get offended at my unladylike referral to those slower than I. The fire alarm just went off...what did I do? Grabbed my keys, cell phone, hoodie and toque....felt the door for heat, poked my head out and proceeded to leave via the stairs of my third floor apartment. What did the rest of the building do? Twelve people out of a few hundred sauntered out the door after several minutes of asking others in the hallway if there was a fire happening, stood by it, and smoked. I suppose natural selection prevented me from yelling, "Hey, MORONS! Get out of the door way, if at least not for your own safety, but for the safety and speed with which I'm sure the fucking fire depatment will want to get to the flames and the burning and the smoke and such!" If they are to burn...it's been decided. Fucktards.

You fuckers won't get me down that easily!

Those "fuckers" I am referring to are the ones who are attempting to ruin what little contented happiness we poor middle working class stiffs have left...well not me actually cuz i'm gonna be a famous movie starlet, for soon the world will be ready for my talents...a fortune cookie told me so...I refer to the MEDIA! (Boo's resonate round the world over). Not only has this "recession" nonsense gotten everyone with what I thought had seemingly brains in their heads to hoard and stress about money, money, oh my god the world is running out of MONEY!!! But now...even us young, healthy, got the functionning free world's balls in our virile and exhuberant hands, free willed, free thinking human beings are subjected to the tryanny that exists as our one and apparent only grasp on anything outside our hand made and suffocating bubbles, are forced to worry about dying of the...wait for it cuz this is gonna freak you right the fuck out and send you screaming for the pharmacy counter...flu. Yes people...the killer H1N1 has now moved off the sick, tiny and weak(you know, the ones natural selection forgot about in its haste to wipe us all out considering what we are doing and have done to our one and only planet because, well dammit, Heroes was on and the bugger got side tracked thinking of his own mortality and how pretty Hayden However you Spell Her Last Name goes). Let me remind the world, or the three people I will tell about this awesomely humorous yet informative blog, that thousands of people dye from the flu each and every fucking year! Not only do they die Every year, but for the most part...the CDC has no actual way of tracking who died from flu or if it was some other disease, infection, whatever, that directly led to the cause of death. People get the flu every year, sit in a hot tub, drink liquids, and rest and get the fuck over it. Why is the H1N1 freaking out the world to such an extent that it robs us of sleep, fills our heads with thoughts of our own unrequited lives, like why haven't I had kids yet...all of my friends are married off and having babies and I'm going to die alone...I digress...and stirs such fears of dread that we as consumers leave our homes in droves to get flu shots, to purchase purell by the bucketful, antibacterial soaps, and so on? I'll tell you why...the media monster which enslaves us all to it's every whim and fancy that's why. People in fear are less likely to think for themselves. Look at every power hungry monster in our history who has methodically beaten down it's people in order to keep them useless, mindless drones which are easily stomped on like so many crunchy, dried up autumn leaves. People in fear go on insane and unnecessary shopping sprees to attempt to keep up to the fear mongering imposed upon their tiny brains. I'm not saying you need to stop washing your damn hands or that you should boil your clothes once a day like the media claims(trust me, that's next). You need to think for your damn selves. No longer will I subject my apparent trusting brain stem to the onslaught of the media's fear monger monster I will now and forever call Gamblor...no wait, that was from the Simpsons...well, I'll think of a clever title later. The media is owned by companies and large corporations who are owned by even larger companies and corporations(I know I sound kinda paranoid but it's super true) who need people to spend money. We have been brain washed to believe that this killer flu out on the loose will destroy humanity as we know it and take no prisoners...well, get a goddamn grip. No more people have perished from the flu this year than any other and yet because of how the media has "choose" to portray this next and newest thorn in human health, it has put anyone who watches the six o clock in a state of over purchasing terror. If you really want to spend your money, do it...not because someone commanded you do so out of fear, but because you want that new pair of leather boots to show off at your girl friends wedding last weekend...oh, said too much.