Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters

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Peaches for free

There's a reason that this journal is called Fear and Self-Loating in New York. I'm experiencing a whole lot of that right now. Today was disasterish. It started to go downhill when I was shaving before the interview. I decided to break out a brand new razor, for that baby-faced smoothness you just can't get using an older one. That was a mistake. You see I'd gotten used to using my old, dull, razor. That meant that I'd gotten used to scraping hard in order to get those last few bits of stubble. I did the same thing with the new sharp razor, and thanks to my very high pain threshold didn't notice that I was cutting the hell out of my face until I saw blood in the mirror. I have a rather big red scab under my right nostril, and the left part of my jaw has a series of cuts on it that are quite visible. A very professional look for the interview, non?

I got to the place early, so that's good. It's important to be punctual when you don't have a lot else going for you. Heck it's always good to be punctual. The building was old and nice, one of those lobbies that display elegance without arrogance. I liked it. The elevator was slower than a dyslexic playing Scrabble. The office itself was not only incredibly small and cramped, but split into two on different floors. The corridors are tiny and curvey. I arrived to find out that the guy I'd been speaking to over the telephone and who was supposed to interview me was out that day. I ended up being interviewed by some woman who showed me the place, took me down to meet the guy who owns it, and was generally very congenial and helpful. I have to say that I was not impressed. It wasn't so much the actual office itself (tiny) or the projects they were working on (eh) as it was the vibe I got from the main fellow and the potential for advancement. The guy was polite enough but I picked up a sense of anti-intellectualism from me. He gently mocked my having worked with lab rats and said that he never read Confederacy of Dunces and often dropped books after one page. He seemed sleazy and disengenious and while I could very well be wrong I have to take my perceptions into account.

The job itself, well it looks shitty. First of all the place I would have is currently occupied by a 17 year old. I may not be qualified to be the director of a multi-million dollar blockbuster, but with a degree from a top university I'd like to do something beyond what a highschooler could. I wouldn't mind doing research and filing and that kind of stuff, I'm not setting my bar ridiculously high, but I also don't want to take a job that's many notches beneath me when it doesn't pay. They announce that they have a high turnover in interns. What do they expect me to take from that except that they either treat their interns shitty or they hire crappy people. Either way it doesn't exactly instill me with confidence and excitement.

I left dispirited and headed over to the AMC 25 to see Kill Bill vol. 2, finally. It was worth the wait. I don't know whether it was as good as it seemed or if I was just desperate to get my mind off my current situation and remind myself of what good film is all about.

I'm not sure what I'll do now. Part of me wants to take $20-50 thousand dollars and just make a movie. If nothing else, it would be a really good argument for a top grad school to let me in. Part of me says to go to any school, even a shitty one that lets just anyone in, so that I can have the skills to go in at a higher level and start from a few rungs up the ladder. For now I'll just keep looking and thinking. It's a marathon not a sprint, no matter how much it feels like the latter. I keep telling myself that.

Walking back home after the movie I felt pretty despondent. Like I was in for years of heartache and wasted effort. Like I was too far down the wrong path to turn around and go back. Honestly I felt like throwing myself in front of a train, something that's more than doable in New York City. Of course I realized I was being irrational and unreasonable, I don't know why I get like that. It's silly and pointless. Anyway, I did have some clear thinking, and that was that it's stupid to save my money. I know the story about the Grasshoper and the Ant, but what am I saving up for? My future feels bleak. Will it really matter when I'm in my 40's living alone whether I'm in an apartment or a house? Will being able to buy a better brand of tile cleaner matter to me? I think not. I need to not worry so much about the future and focus on what matters now. That doesn't necessarily mean that I was wrong to drop the classes, but that money should have been less of a factor. I can save cash when I'm dead.

I think part of the problem right now might be how much I have invested in this. The two things I really have going in my life are my creativity and my potential career. Those are two areas where I think I might be able to be successful and do stuff that would satisfy me. Pillars other people have, family, romance, alcohol, just don't have a lot of resonance for me. They're not what drive me and not how I define myself.

I need patience, and I will find it. It's moronic to get all worked up after a single week. That's what happens when you fail to diversify your ego positions. You have a harder time riding out the rough spots than you do when you can just switch your identification over to another aspect of your life.

The key for me is putting my cerebral knowledge into emotional practice. I have to work on that. That and finishing this piece I've had on the back burner for about a week now. Writing soothes me. I can't forget that and I can't not do it out of lazyness. That's like forgetting to breath out of lazyness. Not advisable.
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