I'm still pretty butt hurt over the whole agent breaking down my soul stuff...
I'm experiencing some kind of punishment for turning 30 I think. After learning that my pictures weren't good enough (ego blow and then some) I went to the gym and cried on a treadmill...in front of people...who see me around the building. Talk about low moment. (shaking head...)
Here's my take on the whole thing: I have no idea what I'm supposed to be doing. So for now I choose to do absolutely nothing. I have never been so fearful of moving in my life. J sent me an article of sorts that calls this stationary feeling "surrendering". I'll take that. I surrender to the fact that I have no idea what I'm supposed to do be doing or what's right and what's wrong. How 'bout those apples?
I went for a walk yesterday afternoon searching for something to lift my spirits. I watched the trees blow...I thought of a big fat bumblebee landing on a flower and causing it to tip (for some reason that cracks a smile usually...obese bugs, har har)...looked for leaf prints in the sidewalk. None of it helped.
I'm just quiet. And not a good quiet...all of you out there who have witnessed what my loud mouth is capable of know that's close to impossible. It can only happen when the planets align just so and the Universe reminds me that acting ain't gonna come easy. Who knows what I'm supposed to do with my life. I can't really get away with saying I'm just a young 20 something-year-old who has time and room to grow. This is when stuff is supposed to start becoming more clear. Who says? I say. Where did I hear that? I don't know, but it makes sense in my bones so I go with it.
Living in LA when you're not acting can be so cruel. Success is constantly being thrown in your face. You watch a movie and realize they shot it literally down the street from you. You see actors everywhere...You walk right passed a studio. It's torture. Really.