Thursday, October 14, 2010


Things are never going to work out for me in Los Angeles because I hate myself when I'm here. I hate that I somehow disillusioned myself into thinking that I could make it in this stupid film business when it's filled with a bunch of half-people that don't actually care about anything. I hate that I still want all those half-people to love me. I hate that I have about two real friends in this town, and that neither of them need me because they have more important people in their lives. I hate that all I do when I'm not working (which is usually) is sit in my room and rot because I'm too afraid of spending money. I hate traffic and Hollywood and bars and the slugs that invade our kitchen. I hate how hating myself makes me so miserable, and that I can't talk to anyone about it because I don't want to make them miserable too.

The whole thing feels like when I was 11 at sleepaway volleyball camp and was so homesick that I couldn't stop crying, no matter what anybody said. Everyone thought I was crazy then. I'm beginning to think I'm crazy now... I just do a better job of hiding it in public.

Something needs to change. I can't stay in this place where the only thing that makes me happy is the thought of leaving... but I don't know how to leave, because of the disappointment I hear in my family's voices whenever I talk about it. They want me to be successful. All I want is for someone to love me. That's never going to happen as long as I hate myself like this. Something needs to change.


  1. I just want to say I can feel your pain. Design school in Chicago was my greatest mistake. Now with $100,000 in student loan debt that never seems to shrink I hate everyone I can think of that made me feel bad for wanting to take time off from school. Maybe if I had I would have gone to nursing school sooner, like I knew I wanted to. Maybe. I really hope you find the path that makes you happy, so that all the good stuff you deserve that's sure to follow, will.

  2. All I can say is that apple-picking and watching the Giants games with you in the past couple weeks were really fun. During the apple-picking day I experienced probably the most genuine, magical, pure joy that I can remember having since...well, a really long time.

    I have been having a hard time this past year with people who I thought were my friends turning out to be not who I thought they were, and not knowing who to trust, and feeling stressed out and used-up by almost everyone I know in LA, so it was a relief to be away from everything for awhile. And bonus: it was also a great day that I'll never forget.

    So - thank you for inviting me to the apple farm so I can have that memory, and for getting me even a little excited about baseball, because frankly your enthusiasm is so infectious you could make a rock excited about something.