I read my own writing and laugh.
Sometimes I don’t understand it (syntax),
Sometimes I think it’s funny,
Sometimes I can’t believe I wrote it,
Sometimes I don’t know what I was thinking.
Even as I write this I have a stupid smile on my face.
I watched a Justin Timberlake’s movie Time-whatever just now.
What a piece of shit.
Obviously, I’d kill to work with the writer, or director, or
But the movie was jam full packed of cliche after mother-(fuckin) cliche.
And just when you thought the film could not fit any more cliches
“It’s not stealing, if it’s already stolen.”
(I would literally (for realz) kill another actor (not kill) to work with any of the people responsible for this film; including: Sound Person, Director of Photography, Best Boy, Gaff Guy)
Sometimes I can’t believe — this is it?
You look at your life and you’re like “Really?”
I have that moment every day.
And just when you thought my life could not fit any more “Really’s?” into it
I hope when I die everyone gets a million dollars.
I hope when I die — traveling becomes free.
I hope when I die — the world turns bright blue for a day.
I hope I never die, and just like JT in that (really boring) time movie I can live forever.
Now that’s pathetic.
Is it cool to love your life?
I sound like a tween in love with my journal.
My parents embarrass me.
They’re dead, but still.
I’m embarrassed all over again.
Red in the face,
All I got now is to embarrass my son.
My son. My angel.
The best thing that’s ever happened.
I will embarrass you, boy. I promise.
Cause that’s what we all want from our sons, daughters, lovers, wives, friends, enemies, frenemies, besties, boy-toys, bro’s, hoes.
We want what every ghost has been saying from the grave.
For four thousand years,
Head bent low,
Frame tilted slightly for effect.
Remember me mother-fucker.