05 January 2005

Damn my brain. Damn you Bukowski.

Your a hack, kid, just a hack. Pack it all in; trade your notepad for raffle tickets, keep your goddamn mouth shut and pay attension! Maybe then you'll learn something. You think with all the crazies, druggies, depressives, alcoholics and schizophrenics in the world we need another loser putting pen to paper? Your a facsimilie, baby, and that's all your ever be.

Your gonna choke in the real world, once all that fear catches up to you, your gonna be drowning in it. Where's your youthful idealism gonna be then? Ain't gonna be shit, ain't that right kid? And you thought you were different. You actually thought you were! Your the same as all the others who think they're different. Can't you see it's all laid out bare by psychology? The need to express and create stemming from a feeling that nobody listens to you, that your marginalised? Maybe your marginalised for a reason, you ever think about that? You have nothing interesting to say. Your just a carbon copy 'different' person. We have a whole warehouse of them, all lined up, waiting to be shipped out when needed.

Your so fucking meek it makes me want to throw up.

You pretend that you aren't but you are, really. Meek. Weak. Just praying for somebody to tell you what to do. Wanting so badly to be accepted, to fit in. Why? Aw, lemmie guess... Too much, Too young, eh? Now you just want to be like everybody else. Well, freakazoid, you've made your non-conformist bed, now shit in it. Nobody wants to be around you anymore, your no fun when your honest with your self, and fun is the only game in town.

Pssh, your barely an artist anymore anyways. "Onwards and Upwards." Sometimes inteligence is counterproductive. Stop hustling, monkey fuck, it'll dilute your weak-piss talent even further.

But you gotta be able to talk a good game else nobody will even listen, less it's that gentle kind face kinda listening that feels so insincere and false. Like telling your sunday school teacher that you Daddy sneaks into your bedroom at night. A pat on the head and off you go.


Okay, feel a little better now.

You know, someone actually said that to me when they found out I was in film school: "Onwards and Upwards." - What the fuck is a guy supposed to say to that? Can you get any more 'baby boomer' if you tried? What am I, a Yuppie? All I managed was a weak "Uh, yeah." Onwards and Upwards? Fuck, what is that and why does it make me feel so contaminated?