Peace

I don’t know how to live with a sense of peace.
I have little control over my life and I’m afraid of whichever decision I make. You know that saying, do what scares you? Well I can’t decide which scares me more. I have always had this fear of moving to New York, even though I have always wanted to live there. But now, having moved to Los Angeles instead, I think to myself, what scares me more? Moving to New York or leaving LA? That’s not exactly what I was thinking, I mean, in writing that sounds absurd. But the actions I take are absurd. I have no sense of peace. I feel anxious about all my actions. I second guess everything I do or write. It’s an Awful way to live.
Sometimes, more and more these days, I can’t believe how much I obsessed about being famous. I’ve spent years of my life studying acting so I could be in a movie, so I could walk down a red carpet, so I could feel important & talented. But everyday, more& more, I’m seeing that that dream or fantasy or idealization will most likely never happen. So I’m doing indie films & theatre just because I love it. But do I really love acting if it’s leading me nowhere? This thought of nowhere & nothing leaves me feeling so lost. It’s like I can’t even be a good artist, I can’t peacefully live an artists life so I’d rather just … I have nothing to fill in the blank there. I don’t want a desk job. And I don’t want to kill myself. What I want is to be a recognized artist in the community of artists who make money & seemingly live good lives. Damn I feel so foolish. I feel stuck and lonely and sad.

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Silence is golden

Omg my roommate is a drummer & I’m going to go fucking insane. Stop the fucking music. Just stop the fucking beating . Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop. If I had any self dignity I’d go and knock knock knock on his fucking door & plead with him to stop. But I’m the kind of person who let’s him carry on his practice while I quietly fume away & slowly build resentment towards him. God I fucking hate roommates. This ones either pounding away or singing the same fucking awful verse repeatedly out of tune. What I wouldn’t give for my Jamaican neighbor to start screaming right now.

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Genesis Unraveled

I wrote this poem once
That described me to a tee
And if I wrote a poem again
It’d be confusing & hard to read
It’d go :
Here there yesterday
Over it, with it, above it,
Beneath it, in tune with it
What is it?
But I didn’t write a poem
Because the words just wouldn’t flow
I just sat awhile alone
Searching on my phone

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Rrrrr

movies/tv I want to watch:
My so called life
Freaks & geeks
House of cards
Game of thrones
To the Wonder
Noah
East of Eden
books/writers I want to read
Anna karenina
Chrysanthemums/Steinbeck
Angels in America
Game of Thrones
Rilke
Rimbaud
Blake
Walt Whitman
Alan Ginsberg
Wordsworth
Steven Spender
TS Eliot Sylvia Plath
William Blake
Carl Sandburgh
John Greenleaf Whittier
All of Chuck palahniuk
Othello

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What

What would you attempt to do if you knew you could not fail?

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Everything

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Bucket list

The things I want to do before I die.

a role in a movie
A role in Shakespeare in the Park
A role in a broadway play
Bunjee jump
A summer in Paris
Get lost in Tokyo
Learn to horseback ride
Fly a plane
Go to India
Go to Italy
Publish a book
Learn to surf

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Sick boy

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