narcissistic ramblings

Monday, December 15, 2003

i wish i could figure out how to write a screenplay.

i just watched mrs. parker and the vicious circle for the 4th time this year - and it makes me talk like that and want to write like that, but i haven't written a goddamned thing in years really and i'm beginning to wonder if it wasn't a completely absurd notion to begin with, like everyone who knows me is kidding themselves or i'm not in on the joke yet - obviously me and groucho are right there together on club membership - i would never be satisfied with anything i put out there, i'm sure. but couldn't i just write a stupid action movie and get a quick mil? that sounds.. soul-selling. so struggle for greatness and achieve nothing or sell my soul and buy a damned car? not sure what to think of that. yknow i'm still completely entangled in teenage crap fantasy storylines that pander and go nowhere interesting - it's such shit. i've been guzzling gatorade all day. i can't take my drink anymore? eat beforehand next time i guess. i just got an IM from someone wanting me to meet them behind the bleachers after class. in a pretty blue hyperlink. i wonder what they'll think when i'm not there? brian lacey kissed me hello several times on my cheek and then i chased him around new york because a malicious female soccer player spoiled my good time and told him my obsessive everything. he had shoulder length hair and was very small and frail and there was a tenderness to him that i never saw in waking life. those that actually know this boy read this and think what the hell because really this brian only exists in my subconscious mind and the reality, which i'm slowly forgetting, is likely completely different. it's like hearing someone's fantasies about your 10th grade math teacher - like, "what?" i fit into jeans now that i didn't quite fit into 2 months ago. my evil plan. i bend my fingers together. if this changes everything i'm going to absolutely murder everyone and then myself real quiet like. "i wore my heart on my sleeve like a wet red stain." let's go out and dance like we mean it.

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