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

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Self doubt until morning

I don't know what I'm doing, maybe I should shoot myself. I'm trying to work on my scripts and everything's coming out all...muddled. The one is too confined, but I can't take it out of the box because the box is the whole point of it. Neurotica is stalling because it's totally outside my experience. What do I know about sexual encounters (although I know enough to write an encyclopedia about awkward neurosis.) My whole "thing" around women is to be as non-offensive and removed as possible. My natural casual personality is agressive with hostile humor and lengthy in depth discussions. I can also be somewhat morose and serious, and am a decent person to discuss difficult subjects with. What I can't be is unobtrusive and...normal. The closest I can get to that is utterly withdrawn and basically silent, something that fakingsincerity can attest to. I don't know how to hit on women and I have absolutely no clue how to initiate any sort of romantic contact. I'm fine with doing faux gay joking flirtation, but totally insecure in a situation where the context is anything but humor. What's there in the writing is okay, but it's a struggle to make the progress natural. It's funny, the hook and the meat of the piece is the naration, the inside the head part, but that's not where the problem is for me. It's like I'm trying to paint a mural on a poorly built wall. Other work stuff is coming along slowly and misdirected. Basically I'm still floundering.

Of course floundering is to be expected and it's okay. I'm still hanging in there, doing the things that I have to to keep going, and making an effort to work through the blocks and my disgust at my own work. Other people like a lot of it, but they don't have the same standards as I do or as much riding on it. What I really need is an objective voice to rip me to shreds and force me to fix the problems. No mercy.

The whole no porn thing is working reasonably well. I sort of broke the vow when I showed (and then gave) some to Matt, but that was about him, not me. I don't like watching porn with other guys, never have, probably never will. On the other hand, sex has been on my mind much less, and I've felt a little better emotionally. It was a good choice. The throwing away will probably commence shortly.

It's getting hot in NYC. My mom said I should buy an air conditioner but I don't really want to. I somewhat like dealing with the heat. I'm less fat than I was and it doesn't feel unbearable to me. There's something, nice, about sitting around with sweat pouring into every crevace of your body, your shirt clinging to you, and the only relief coming from crisp, cold water. Maybe I'm just weird. Not maybe.

Man I hate those BP advertisements that say "We're horrible, but we're very self-aware about it." What kind of an ad is that? It's this new "Therapy" culture of ours where confession equals absolution. That's bullshit. If you know that you're a horrible company that's destroying our society then DO something about it. None of this "It's a start" bullshit. I raped you, but I drove you home's a start?

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