Fuck Hollywood And It's Fuckity Fucks

Artists are fucked up people. Because they're frequently impotent in life, they take it out on storytelling. I'm positive I'm guilty of it. Robbed my soul of humanity. I have so much impatience for the world it grates on me. Because I wasn't always like that. I consider myself polite to a fault. To a point where I feel it in my core if I've offended someone. Nowadays, I could care less. Worse, I relish in calling people "fucking idiots" to their face.

Case in point, this moron girl who works in the same office as me. She talks before her brain has a moment to process. When I correct her, her next response is, "I didn't say that." Bitch...the moment it came outta' yer stupid mouth I already knew it was wrong. I've been doing this for almost a decade, you...a couple of months. Who, in your limited brain dead world do you think you're correcting? So of course, my first (and stupidly definitive thing) is to berate her. The unmitigated anger I feel turns to joy that I can turn this person who thought she had leverage to speak when not spoken to, overwhelms my intellectual side which tells me this is just so wrong. I am a crap human being.

Yes, that's the new pissed off shitbag version of me that is the result of getting scraps at an already saturated rarely appreciated Hollywood table.

And it'll probably get worse. Because it is a totally "I've done more, better, hairier, dumber, experienced" chip on the shoulder. And before anyone can say "well, you were probably like that before you got to Hollywood. This just magnified your asshole-ness." Well the magnify part is right. But previously, I'd been able to rationalize and take a step backwards to digest things. And simmer down a little. Now...I just berate first, figure it out later. This is all the behavior of many people I've encountered, and ALWAYS hated. Well, here I am now.

This place changes the best person in us. The ingenue comes into town, and is seduced into sucking the shriveled old cock of some high-end attorney to some agent in front of some screening, like it was normal. This has NEVER changed. Marilyn Monroe did it to find her way into the business. Think about that for a second. The most iconic Hollywood starlet in the world...started out giving cheap hummers to sleazy Eastern Euro producers for a place at the table. If this doesn't sicken your inner soul. Than Hollywood may be for you.

We are all bad rotten people. And nothing changes.

Permanently Killing Brain Cells

Heya Folks,
I've decided to take an extended break from the bottle again. IF I could be a cautionary tale, I hope some would take into account that it does mess your brain up. As well as any semblance of emotion you can think of. Well, except impatience with people.

Lately, I've felt numb to practically everything. When I drank, I think my brain weaved an emotion attachment to the feelings part. I believe, now...my sense of feelings were overtaken by what the alcohol provided me. Now, I think I'm suppose to feel something, but I don't. I thought this was going to be a relief, but it isn't. It is very much like "Eternal Sunshine of A Spotless Mind," one cannot pick and choose what your brain wants to forget or remember. This null feeling is extremely frustrating. Since, I intellectually understand that I should feel sad or angry. But I don't express it properly. I think this is also VERY dangerous. To the sense that I don't even understand if I make an insensitive comment. Well, you know I make them here. But in previous blogs, it was mostly tongue-in-cheek. AND I did feel something. Giddyness for my stupidity.

Now...

...not so much. I don't laugh when I write. Nor do I sense anything. This is a terrible place to be at the moment. Not entirely sure at what point my emotions will return, but in the meantime, I think it's safe to assume, I will stay relatively silent, until this passes. My only fear is...when I do get feelings back, wonder how it will manifest itself.

For those who are struggling to drown the voices in their head with booze, you may want to consider that some of what you are killing will never coming back.

The Simple Act Of Not Giving A Shit

Lately...and I'm gonna come under some fire for this, I've been thinking about family. Family and friends are great. But, let's be honest here. We all die. And not only die, we make others suffer/worry/love/hate on our way down. So I ask many of you...what is the purpose of bringing someone else into your demise.

Personally, I feel it's really a selfish miserable act. Having children...it's the worst. Why? Because one day, you will either die young and leave them nothing, or die old and milk the last remaining breath of what they hear, haunting them for life.

I notice this odd phenomenon on Facebook. Usually it's people who post how they miss their mother/father/sister/dog etc...whining about how sad they are. Or how they can hear them from the afterlife. Bullshit. When I die, I don't want to hear anymore of anyone's bullshit. Oh how often do we pretend to care.

Speaking of which, that's a TERRIBLE thing to leave people with. The very thought that you live on another plane somewhere in some mystical universe that a human brain cannot even fathom. Think about what people say while they're alive "well, I'm glad I got to know the guy." Or "he taught me how to be a better human being." Yeah...so what? I'm sure you will pass on a similar legacy. Probably be seen in a higher realm of humanity. Will you be around to enjoy the accolades of your altruism? No. Of course not. So, let's put it in tangible terms. Why would you put money in a bank with the understanding you will NEVER retire on it?

No point. I find it somewhat reprehensible that people, in some religion/culture, promotes this much procreation? Why? To make others on the planet miserable. Look, if you really want to do humanity a favor. Stop having children. Seriously. Not for me. Or for your neighbor. But because in truth, NO ONE can stand you....eventually. They may find you interesting at first. Or even make the time you have on Earth bearable (for a bit), but in the end, YOU are a burden. Sorry. It's true.

Am I happier or sadder for drawing this conclusion. Ah folks...this is the simple act of not giving a flying shit. And it's not a bad place to be.

Gym 'Tards

Recently, there's been an epidemic of truly inconsiderate douche-heads who feel it is perfectly fine to bring their cell phones into the locker room, plant themselves down on a bench and text or surf internet whilst you are trying to get to your locker and get dressed.

Listen, you fuckers. take your fucking phone and shove it up your fucking ass. You are NOT that important. More so, you are in other people's way that need to get in get out and get the fuck to work. The thing that irks me, isn't so much that they suck up real estate. It's that they don't realize, as your standing there naked with a towel, that you exist. Well, here's the solution. Next time I see someone doing this and they are on the same space as me trying to sit down so I can get dressed, you're getting a fat gym bag to your fucking head. Yes. It's going to smack you in the face. Clearly, if I don't exist, you shouldn't feel pain. So there you have it.

Some of you may feel I'm overreacting. Fine. Probably am. But, it's just a collection of people in this fucking town that have zero awareness for their fellow man. For me, it takes me five minutes to dress, put on deodorant and leave. That's it. No hanging on the bench texting, surfing net. I'd rather people not even know I existed. I've got shit to do. Places to go. No nonsense. I pray I don't consume as much energy to pick up pack up and leave the area. Quickly. Also, you know what..? This goes for the same asshole who inverts his sock and starts to whip it around trying to get it straightened it out to put on. Hey fuckface, where do YOU think your sock dust goes? You must think the whole world fucking loves your pungent fucking feet funk. This is what I'm talking about. ZERO consideration for your fellow man. That's it. I'm done.

We have opposing thumbs and a brain. USE A SINGLE SYNAPSE TO FUCKING THINK ABOUT PEOPLE AROUND YOU.

Getting Motivated

If you're anything like me,  I get really antsy when I'm not doing something creative. I find that if I'm not working on my portfolio during the weekend, then I've completely wasted it. Which is why I'd like to spend a few moments on motivation.

Motivation is all around us. It starts with even waking up. Most people wake up and say to themselves "oh, man...I'm so unmotivated today to do anything." That's no true. Your body woke your dumbass up because even if your brain says it's not, your body and intuitive nature says yes. Your first act of moving, is...in the most basic term motivation. How motivated are you to make coffee? Or make breakfast? It takes a special kind that tells you that you need caffeine. Or you need something to eat. I think for most of us, it's just feeling...well feeling.

Lately though, I've been reaping the repercussions of my pass drinking (as mentioned in previous blogs). It has dulled my sense of passion for ANYTHING. I mean, it use to thrill me to get excited to write screenplays. Now...dead in water. It use to have some sense of wonder to just drive around L.A. Now...can't be bothered. It use to really get my brain working, to just imagine things. That's all gone. All I'm left with is numb dead (probably damaged central nervous system) blah feeling. Now, this is all probably part of being almost 40 years old. I think at a certain point, the side of your brain that flips on to say "Why bother?" or "who's gonna care?" slips into your psyche. I think for most men, this is where they hit mid-life crisis. And buy a great sports car. Or bang someone they shouldn't.

I recently re-watched "City Slickers." When I was a kid, I didn't really fully grasp Billy Crystal's speech about the way a man goes through life through the years. I just liked he was dead inside reciting the path of life as though this was a slow agonizing demise. That the accomplishments of fatherhood, husbandhood and manhood is just a total drag once everything is in place and there's no other dream left. Yeah, funny as a kid. Not so funny as a 39 year old (which, odd that that movie celebrates his 39th birthday). I've heard it in other podcasts, where...people seem to feel that they missed out on something. That feeling comes from not attempting enough things in life. What one may say is "regret." EVERYONE regrets something. Oftentimes, when I drink, I think about how it would've been like had I gotten married in my 20's. I shiver the thought, but also wrap my brain about how much more responsible I would've been (maybe not). I feel there is a commonality to married with children people who do feel a HUGE sense of identity crisis. Had I been 20 and suffered this, I feel I may've ended up on 48 Hours Mysteries trying to explain my desperate nature. You can't go through these things with other people. The girl I may've married...well, it would've been sickeningly unfair to put her through this crisis. And...also, I think she recognized she had her own issues to resolve.

That said, I think the motivation that we may want to inject into ourselves is to be happy for what we've accomplished. Or excited for what we want. Motivation is part in parcel to hope. In that, without something to look forward to by the end of the day, living isn't worth it. Get motivated. Get out there. And DO what charges you.