holding grudges

previously published by me elsewhere:

I feel like someone experiencing his third act character arc, and I can't fathom where it all came from. I feel I've overcome something without knowing I was even trying. Who's this person standing on the other side of my mirror these days?

I've become so fuckin' honest about everything. I've never been some cheap ass liar by anyone's assessment, but suddenly I'm saying all the shit I'd probably have kept to myself before. The veil covering my distaste of things going on in my life is fraying.

I thought I'd been in control of it before, even if in some sort of anti-hero fashion, but I know now I have fully taken the reins of my own life. Or at the very least, taken them back.

Sometimes you spend so much time helping other people groom their lives, or at the very least their egos, and you forget to look at yourself and what it's all doing to you.

It's not selfish, it's survival, especially in the movie business. Or unfortunately where I sometimes feel I am, which is in the pursuit of it, or some filmic variation of "playing house" in grade school, long before getting married.

As similar as many of the elements of what I'm currently involved with are to the real deal, sometimes you can't help feeling it's just a bloody dress rehearsal.

blogged down

previously published by me elsewhere:

There's certain subject matter that doesn't quite warrant an e-mail, a phone call, a notation on the dry erase board on the fridge, or even a personal journal entry.
It's the sort of conversation barely worth the breath, or the words. It's the minutia of life. The elements of one's lunch, the contents of one's mailbox, or the details of one's workday that can more easily be referred to under the heading of "same old, same old".

For this, we have created the type of forum you're scanning through right now. A safe haven for people who like to hear themselves speak, but don't really care if someone is listening.

the point

previously published by me elsewhere:

[THESE BLOGS USED TO EXIST ON MYSPACE AND I WROTE THIS IN RESPONSE TO THAT NETWORKING SITE]

I'm a statistic! I've done it. I've become a joiner. Even worse, I've joined this perverse society well known to all of you reading this: myspace.com...

I only recently started perusing this site having been guided here on a whim by a real live friend, earned the old-fashioned way. Now I'm here, and all of the sudden there is more time to waste than ever before.

There seems to be several distinct reasons for people to enter this surprisingly populated subculture. The one that was most obvious to me was evident from the first glance I got a peek at a random selection of pictures.

Folks are looking for a fuck buddy, whether on a temporary or permanent basis really doesn't matter. We'll just go ahead and call it a "relationship".

You know, there's something off-putting about collecting all of your "friends" in one place like this. It becomes almost competitive, like trying to fill up your high school yearbook with signatures, phone numbers, and messages whose sheer length and size of font often determined the seriousness of the relationship.

Then there are the watchers. The people with so few bits of personal information listed, or outrageously exaggerated ages, or what have you, that you know they just signed up to take a closer look at those of us willing to say something, or open up in some fashion.

Is this simply a microcosm of society I was bound to stumble into, or some governments' attempt at recreating a corrupted database that had no back-up?

Whatever the case, I'm here, exploiting this modern technology that gives voices to more people, but always runs the risk of leading more to prop themselves up on a soapbox.

Oh, well.