3am. The witching hour. Woke up unexpectedly. Usually when that happens, it means I’m going to write a story. Unfortunately, that’s not happening.
Instead I’m thinking about how angry I am at real life shit. Mostly about my Bloody Mary’s story. Mainly, I’m angry that I wasted so much my time and energy on this useless bullshit. Dear god, please let my next screenplay attempt be better. If only I could just get out of this horrible little town, everything would be better! Too bad I keep getting lured in by my parents’ dogs and the ridiculously cheap rent for a huge 1-bedroom downtown apartment.
My Co-Star has been telling me to avoid clown suits for the last two days, so I am not thinking about Andrew. I am beginning to see now that he is useless to me. It is unfortunate. Yet another project down the drain.
Four years, four book/screenplay attempts, and nothing. It doesn’t help that I can’t find an editor who can help me. It’s time to just admit it’s all crap and set it on fire. Start over from scratch. What a frustrating situation to be. In five years I want a portfolio of projects behind me I’m actually proud of, not this whiny ass bullshit.
No one can blame me for trying. I mean, who does this happen to? What DC girl wakes up one morning and is randomly told she is moving to South Dakota and doesn’t have a choice? Then stays there for ten years because of what mostly boils down to Stockholm Syndrome? DC to South Dakota? What? Why wouldn’t I try to write about my life experiences for all to read? This shit doesn’t happen to anybody. I know that because I’m completely alone out here.
I’m sorry we couldn’t get along better, SD. At least you let me leverage your cheap rent/cost of living to fund my travels for the last five years. I think of all the places I’ve been and I feel accomplished. Five years ago, I felt bad about myself. I didn’t know what I wanted to do when I graduated except write and travel. Until then, I felt like I’d done nothing but sit in a library and pine over useless guys. Now I feel like I’m a traveling writer, albeit an immature, underdeveloped one. I’m working on fixing it now! For now it’s still the stream of consciousness.
I mentioned readjusting my mindset. The thought struck me that I should think of SD as my playground. It’s the place I’ve done all my playing before heading out into the real world. Experimenting with my identity, trying new things, going new places, coming into a new version of my being. It is nice to think of it this was.
I always have nostalgia for it when I’m away. This time I’m banking on that so I can actually get my writing career off the ground. No more playing, sadly. No more running around. I have to grow up and be serious. I have to be An Adult.
The blog is going offline soon. I may have finally found the secret tool I need to update my website. Stay tuned to find out.
All I’ve done the last two days is watch movies. Movie after movie after movie. I lost track of which ones. A few romcoms, a history, a musical, one or two translated into French. All movies all the time. Feels good. Much better than drinking.
Somehow this led to the urge to get out ye olde sketchbook of lore and start drawing. I haven’t done it yet, but I want to. I’ve been looking at lots of pictures of fancy gowns and fashion illustrations on Instagram. I also watched Burlesque the other night, which has amazing fashion of course! Now all I can think about is sketching, which I haven’t done in a very long time.
Am I finally close to becoming myself again? I feel like I was so far away from my true identity for so long. Can I finally have it back now? Some days I wake up and think to myself, “Who am I?” I have to look at my notebooks to remind myself.
I guess that is the ultimate evil of alcohol for me: it turns me into Liz, my not-so-nice other personality. When that happens it takes me a few days to recover, not just from the alcohol usage but from actually being a different person. It’s crazy. Yeah, I’ll say it. It’s crazy. And until you know what it’s like to go through that, you really shouldn’t judge. The important thing is, I am aware of it and I am working on fixing it. It’ll probably help if I don’t look like her anymore.
I think Liz needed to come out. I know it needed to come out. It was going to come out no matter what. It all needed to come out. I am not sure what to do with this material now, but at least I released it from my inner soul. It’s out there in the universe now for all to chatter over and discuss. And what good has that done me? Well, I have an audience, a known name, and free publicity. What more could a writer ask for?
Going to try to work on something else. Really just eat cereal and slum around my apartment. Maybe go back to sleep like normal people do? Who knows?