I had read a personals ad that said ‘no nipple ponies’ so I responded and asked what the hell a nipple pony was, I finally got a response:
a nipple pony…. a gym rat that wants tits like dolly P.
(aka circuit queen)
(11-19-00) I am so sad that I just want someone to slice my stomach open and let the gray foam fall out into a steaming mess on the floor. I feel crazy. I feel like I am doomed to never ever be happy or satisfied or realized or any of those other so so special self-help words. I think maybe I should just get back to affirmations but that just seems so ridiculous even when I know that it works in the long run. I’m sorry I’m not extroverted. I’m sorry that I’m scared of people. I’m sorry that I go crazy when I’m not alone for long enough. I’m sorry that I can’t be what I want to be and what you want me to be. I’m sorry that I feel my throat choked with tears but I can’t get any of them to come out even when I lay on my bed and close my eyes and hug a pillow and try to just relax.
It cuts me deep into the base of my soul to hear that. YOU’RE NOT GOOD ENOUGH. That’s what it tells me. YOU’LL NEVER BE GOOD ENOUGH. It’s like the Rocking-Horse Winner where the walls say ‘there’ll never be enough.’ I try to talk and sound straight. I try to talk and just fucking sound intelligent since I’m always stuterring and slurring and I can’t fucking verbally articulate anything I’m trying to say. I try to talk and please and put all the little ducks in a row and be accurate and precise and still accessible and down-to-earth. Who the fuck am I, anyway? And yet al i do is sit in my little room with my little techtoys and tell it to a computer. And sync it to a handheld so I can carry my grief with me. Portable pain.
Just got off the phone with Sterling Harris. Yeah. He just called. I pick up the phone and he says: ‘Hey Andy.’ I know this voice… ‘It’s Sterling Harris.’ Holy Fuck! He’s doing well. He got a master’s in political science and is MOVING TO CHICAGO in a few months. I couldn’t believe it. See – I hate when this shit happens. I act all pitiable and wah wah wah and then God sends me a fucking message like this. Shyaht. And I know Sterling and Matt Harding are really going to get along. This totally makes me fucking night. I feel so much better. And I don’t know why. I just know that getting a call from Sterling and then on top of that that he is moving to Chicago is something in the works for me.
(11-22-00) Just got back from the bakery. I miss home. I realize how much I msis the manner and politeness and pace of home. Even though it is so homogenized and bigoted I understand why I miss it now. My hands are so cold right now. it is freezing in this house! (later) I’m all Coked up right now. I just got done scanning and ripping out pertinent pages out of Wired magazine and Fast Company magazine. This is the kind of rush I need to feel jmore often. I was talking to mom and dad this afternoon before Heather and Brooks came in and I made the observation that I should stop dating and start writing. That makes a lot of sense to me right now. It is like I need to get back under control with my creative dreams and urges. I should be jet setting right now. I’m 25 – I shoul be a multimillionare by now. I am sweating a little bit right now because I’m so coked up on life and excited about shit. Or maybe it is the Ghiradelli hot chocolate. I think what frightens me is the possiility of me maximizing my potential – of fully realizing my talents in every area possible. If I were to maximize my talents: become a model, do voiceover work, put out a mix demo, create websites, produce plays, run a porn site… it is like if I had the balls to really go nuts I would be unstoppable. But I always feel like I’m in the preparatory stage of this stuff. I need project plans. I need deadlines. I need milestones. I need to schedule time for me to do all the things that I want to be doing right now. It’s like if I can create all my interests and media to feed eachother then I will be unstoppable – quite a venture to consider – now I jsut have to get rid of those 7.5 hours a day spent at (employer). I have to figure out how to make work less of my life but stil bring in the $$$ that I need to realize my dreams and goals. I need to live big. and stop living so small. I need new headshots, a v/o tape, model shots, foot shots, an online directing and playwriting portfolio. I need to get a haircut right now – my grey is showing. I like spelling it with an ‘e’ – much mroe distinguished.
I also want to talk to mom and dad about changing my last name. I don’t know how they’ll react to that. Sounds so avant if you ask me. Hopefully they won’t freak out too much.
It is all seems to me that I’m o the brink again. I’m at another cliff where I need to just fucking jump and be done with it. Just fucking jump. Fly or fall is not an issue anymore. I’m too safe. If I’;m going to be in an orgy it might as well as be soon right ? If I’m going to go public with porn sites it might as well be now right? I need to recpature my rage – that lifeforce that has always kept me running and fueled. I always forget my power only to recover it again. Remember. Recover. Overpower.