Humility. Me oh my, humility.
So first the 48-hour movie bombs spectacularly and rubs my own pretentiousness into my eyes until they bleed. That was good.
So then I find out I got rejected for Journalism. I'm in too bad a mood to actually feel superior to anything so I won't go into just how bad the writing in that newspaper is, but needless to say I could run circles around them. Oh well, oh well. I guess I had somehow hoped never to have to confront the fact that I'm horrible at expressing myself in any kind of creative medium.
So I was sitting in front of Vons with Mikey and the whole situation gradually revealed itself to me. I have become one of those young, angsty, aimless suburban white male do-no-rights that we've all been taught to believe are the scourge of the earth. I have no aim, no focus; I am no longer excited by nearly anything; I'm jaded and cynical; I wear black clothes and sit around watching movies all day. Fuck. FUCK. Oh well, so is the way of things.
I know this weblog has been rather dreary, and I apologize to you, dear reader(s), and promise that as soon as I get a sense of humor and a goal, I'll start posting pictures of people in funny clothes again.