Monday, July 17, 2006

There Is Nothing Left to Do

"Earth to Malice: come in, Malice. Over."


"I repeat -- Earth to Malice: come in, Malice. Your run at SPF is over, it's time for you to return to the world you left behind. Do you copy?"



I've never had insomnia this bad. Do people die from insomnia? It's hard to sleep with all this self-contempt. I suppose I could get some honest writing done, but I'd much rather write this stupid blog entry.

I'm trying to find a peace with myself. People will like me or they won't like me. People will like my work or they won't like my work. There are a lot of factors involved that I've no control over. I can't win over everyone.

(Or, can I.....?)

Anna Chlumsky's mom found this blog. Hello to Anna Chlumsky's mom. It was good talking with you. I'm not sure what I said but I hope it wasn't stupid. I do know how to blather when given the opportunity.

I am so thankful my own mom doesn't surf the Internet.

So, who else is reading this blog?

I want to feel good about what I've accomplished, but I'm cruel to myself. I'm not being humble for the sake of seeming humble. I know I'm good. I know I can be so much better. The world does not suffer from a shortage of writers. Even good writers. So, why should anyone pay attention to my work?

I'd like to go away. Somewhere far, far away. Maybe a beach. Sink my toes into some fine, clean sand. Close my eyes and forget about the world for a while. All my self-doubt is killing me. I just need to turn off my head for while and exist. I care too much about things I can't control. I can get obsessed with the things I can't control.

My director asked me why I *blog*. The conversation shifted and I didn't get to answer him. I don't keep a private journal. I'm writer. I've been a writer forever, long before I started writing "scripts". I've never been good at keeping private journals because what's the point of writing something if there's no audience? When it suits me, I can imagine that no one is reading this blog, or I can imagine that a lot of people (well, a handful) are reading it. Regardless, it keeps me writing. It keeps me thinking about the flow of words on the page. There's an argument to be made that it's a waste of time and it detracts from "real writing", but it's good for me. I need to get these things out of my head.

And there you have it: another over-long entry that people will skim over. Aren't blogs grand? Use once and destroy! They're like toilet paper!