Ok, maybe it’s the fact that I worked another wedding. Maybe it’s because funding for “Behind the Window” is still dragging along. Maybe it’s the phone conversation I just had with my Mother. Maybe it’s all of the above…
But I’m feeling like shit today.
“Behind the Window” is dragging on in pre-development hell. It’s an unending roller-coaster of ups and downs. One day to the next it’s “looking good”, it’s “no news today”, it’s “so and so is interested”, it’s “well… I’ll definitely be in on the next one.” It’s so frustrating and disheartening. I’m starting to really understand why you hear about films taking 5-10 years to “make”. 85-95% of that time is coming up with funding. So yeah, that’s got me a little bit down.
I spent all of yesterday working Karrie Jordan and Beto Campos’ wedding. It was a beautiful day (aside from the rain). Karrie looked ravishing in her white dress and she and Beto make a truly cute couple. But something about weddings makes me down. It might have something to do with the fact that I’ve kind of come to the conclusion that I won’t ever have one. That’s kind of a tough pill to swallow. And Mom reiterated to me today just how pathetic and sad it is. And she lays the blame on that entirely on my shoulders.
Granted I have made a decision to not pursue a relationship with anyone. That’s a decision I’ve made on at least 10 different occasions over the past 10 years. You see, what most people don’t understand is that just because I’ve “made that decision”, it doesn’t mean I haven’t had my pursuits. I’ve been infatuated, in and out of love and in lust many many times over the past 10 years. I’ve also experienced plenty of rejection and heartache in this time.
Just because most of you don’t hear about it, doesn’t mean I don’t go through it.
And when I do go through it, and I let people in… well… no one EVER likes the girls I fall for.
I don’t know.
Right now… I’m crying and I’m depressed and I’m really on the verge. And I feel like I have no one to turn to for anything.
Just my fucking computer. The only constant in my life. And the only thing that doesn’t judge me. Or tell me I’m full of shit. Or full of myself. Or self indulgent. Or overbearing. Or an Asshole. Or fat. Or unattractive. Or lazy. Or a failure.
It’s no wonder I spend so much time on these fucking machines.
Shit. I don’t even think anyone reads this journal anymore. I don’t know why I even bother writing in it.