All Roads Lead To Mullholland...

Sometimes I struggle, staying on track, remaining objective in the day-to-day activities that make up this life. My life. Sometimes, I worry. Often I worry…sometimes about myself, sometimes about the people around myself. It’s the kind of thing that can spin a person into circles until they yearn for a clear vantage point…one of those views that people talk about, high above, from the outside looking in, beside oneself or something like it.

…

I was at the La Brea & Santa Monica Target on a Saturday, hung-over…probably still drunk or fucked from the night that had just passed, wandering. I was there for something, something that I needed in my life…something about my life but I couldn’t remember. I started to sweat, overcome by the masses swirling around me in their Satanic red carts, their lust for econ shopping, their disgusting excitement. For a moment, I thought of standing in the middle of the pretty white aisles of this great American wasteland, pulling trigger and emptying my remnants onto the slick and surely recently buffed tile.

But I didn’t, maybe because I’m gutless but most likely because what pillar member of world society pulls a stunt like that? Not this one. I focused, decided to forget about the overwhelming responsibilities that had earlier inspired my visit. Suddenly, all that was overcoming was overcome. I picked up 11 DVD’s, two sets of bamboo party lights and left with the same sense of false accomplishment that leads me through every task of every minute of every day of this tip of my sweet fucking tongue life…so familiar by now, I get off on it. And maybe that’s my curse, knowing my great flaw…that nothing will ever be enough.

On the way out, I stepped into the elevator, was followed by one couple, another. The doors were closing when a family of happy Mexican-ish descendants crammed inside…obviously at the end of a Target bender and excited to return to their lands in the Eastern kingdom to bask in the glory of a fresh haul. As the doors closed, the alarm sounded. The elevator wasn’t moving an inch…and the doors weren’t opening. We all paused before the first words came from the lady of the first couple, pointed at the family. “You should have bought some food. We’re gonna starve in here.” Everyone laughed until I obviously misjudged the situation…

“We could always eat the children.”

…

Something’s going down in my life…something surrounding, strangling the parts of me that get off on EA and insisting to myself over and over it was a she who insisted, again and again. Harder, harder. Fuck…

I can feel something boiling through. And this incessant tapping in my feet, fingers, face…between my ears. It’s making it difficult to sit still. I have to leave…to wind through the only wind worth mentioning in this town…Mulholland. Because every time I go I feel a step closer to pinning this shit down.

…

I hope the fog is out tonight. I hope it’s seeping through the canyons, cooling the air. I hope it invades through my window, introduces me to the faces of the bits of soul that escape my breath with every exhale. Maybe tonight, they’ll look me in the eyes when they speak…

Maybe they’ll tell me why they’re leaving, or better yet…what’s moving in.

Return to Form?

I’ve been stewing...don’t know what it is. And get me not wrong, this isn’t a complaint. This, is enjoyment…but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to at least try and put a finger on it. Sometimes, for moments at a time, I worry of the death of my heart…a combination of lacking inspiration and the continual thought and reminder of the hollowing affects of fucking loveless. I’m confused…or about to explode…or both. And the times in my life where I worried that feeling was gone, I recall a need to weep. So to it now, I can only bid warm welcome.

Welcome, welcome.

And yes, F Y fucking I, I have a heart…the sort that makes me either want to snap necks or kiss them so sweet I’d teach the world they’ve been missing much, much of their lives. This heart…it’s a piece of machinery quite emotionally advanced, actually. Not necessarily hearts in general, not that I’ve encountered, just mine.

…

I feel I’ve reached a working crossroads, and I’m alright with that. Basically, because sometimes, I think I have distaste for this new job I took…distaste because hate is such a strong word. And by crossroads, I mean after the summer, I think I need to find a good way to cut my salary in half and do the right thing.

I very recently made a pass at writing a television series based on the first restaurant I worked. It’s not on TV because it’s nothing more than my little secret. Right now, although I haven’t exactly found out yet, I believe I’ll find there’s not a whole lot I can do with it…again, key on yet. So instead, my eyes and ears have recently turned to something that is on TV, a little show called Rescue Me with the genius savage, Denis Leary. The idea is to pick a show whose voice you can emulate and elevate (my words), write an episode and then find out what the fuck what. I thought it was in my ballpark until I saw the 4th episode of season 3…right up until Leary’s character’s rape of his ex-wife turns into the best TV sex I’ve ever seen (because she’s into it, not because I’m openly into rape). Anyway, after I saw it, I knew that even though it took a while to open myself up to TV, if I was ever going to write a TV spec while on hiatus from stabbing at features, this would be the show to eat my time.

…

Do you ever see or read about something and just want to talk about it? Okay, obviously. There’s a reason I’m not in Washington. Most of the time, politics fail to move. I’m not in parts of New York because I don’t “get” business…in cases applicable. And I sure as shit ain’t preaching hypocrisy in the form of Jesus or Muhammad…

I’ve talked about Danny Boyle in the past…even on here after seeing Millions, and I find myself wanting to talk about him again. He’s absolutely on my must list (and not solely due to beautiful Muse overuse) and apparently looking to climb his way to the top of it. But anyway, I’ve been following this thing for a while now, Sunshine. Now I can’t let it go. I can’t help but smell incredible…a scent in the movies I rarely pick up on, especially early, but as a close today, I want to lead any eager eyes to their own close…

Because I’m stewing, like I said…and am going to save emotional resonance for another day. B-Day USA is here and will be covered in stops ranging from Pasadena to Malibu to Santa Monica. Shut eye tonight…not optional.

…

http://www.apple.com/trailers/fox_searchlight/sunshine/extendedtrailer/

Why do I so yearn to be epic?