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.