Oh look. It’s a wormhole. It seems that you can talk directly to the Jan 10, 2012 version of yourself. Probably a good idea to give some notes about what that person could have done differently on to make your work easier right now.
Run! Run like hell man. And apply everywhere to work because it's late and no one wants to hire creatives (kill myself).
I'm stressed out so much that I can't even think about school, my "girlfriend" in Minneapolis will only talk to me about how many places I applied today and I keep hearing no's and "we'll keep you in mind!". It's so frustrating and for people who aren't awesome at rejection, such as every artist or creative, it is really draining. I don't wish I did anything different but I constantly have this gnawing, sickening feeling that I'm forgetting something and I don't know what it is. I'm having fucking nightmares and waking up with the aforementioned forgotten thing being something important, dead relatives (my grandparents both passed recently, so I guess I'd encourage me to love my grandmother harder before her passing, but I got a 2001 Honda out of it, fucking great right?) I'm in a weird mood and not interested in entertaining your blog. I know what it's like to be an artist, to live the creator's lifestyle, I've been here for years. Moving too slowly then way too fast, hardly holding on one second and bored breathless the next moment. This is the neurotic, destructive existence I'm trying to escape, trying NOT to become a perpetual starving artist. I want to be a turtlenecked douchebag in the Porschia who "sold out", I can sleep soundly being that gentleman. I just can't handle the cigarettes and coffee diet anymore, I'm burned out and just now reaching the job market. I didn't fucking party in school, I'm not some white sorority girl whose parents sheltered from living. I've been working out here and I'm tired of never getting paid or recognized and constantly being punished for missing classes that I already know the answers to questions they think I've never heard before (Oooooh, you got me! [not]).
Sorry for the attitude.
Welcome to the pressure and hell that I'm experiencing as a senior.
Signing Off.
I'm stressed out so much that I can't even think about school, my "girlfriend" in Minneapolis will only talk to me about how many places I applied today and I keep hearing no's and "we'll keep you in mind!". It's so frustrating and for people who aren't awesome at rejection, such as every artist or creative, it is really draining. I don't wish I did anything different but I constantly have this gnawing, sickening feeling that I'm forgetting something and I don't know what it is. I'm having fucking nightmares and waking up with the aforementioned forgotten thing being something important, dead relatives (my grandparents both passed recently, so I guess I'd encourage me to love my grandmother harder before her passing, but I got a 2001 Honda out of it, fucking great right?) I'm in a weird mood and not interested in entertaining your blog. I know what it's like to be an artist, to live the creator's lifestyle, I've been here for years. Moving too slowly then way too fast, hardly holding on one second and bored breathless the next moment. This is the neurotic, destructive existence I'm trying to escape, trying NOT to become a perpetual starving artist. I want to be a turtlenecked douchebag in the Porschia who "sold out", I can sleep soundly being that gentleman. I just can't handle the cigarettes and coffee diet anymore, I'm burned out and just now reaching the job market. I didn't fucking party in school, I'm not some white sorority girl whose parents sheltered from living. I've been working out here and I'm tired of never getting paid or recognized and constantly being punished for missing classes that I already know the answers to questions they think I've never heard before (Oooooh, you got me! [not]).
Sorry for the attitude.
Welcome to the pressure and hell that I'm experiencing as a senior.
Signing Off.
No comments:
Post a Comment