I Needed to Get Out of Here…

I needed to get out of Los Angeles. Just for the holiday season. To breathe for a second. I love my job, but when a grocery store is keeping you from seeing people you miss and love it feels a bit like useless chains, to nicely overdramatize it. I wanted that feeling of being in the car and just leaving, just driving, the road flying by, music peppering the landscape, putting distance behind you. I needed to hunt down my girl, have her look me in the eye, and tell me there’s no love there anymore. Just like God. I need to see that shit before I believe it. Maybe attempt a kiss and see if volts of electricity still conduct through the lips. Or not. One way or the other, that’s the answer you need to quiet the inner monologue which literally never stops. No point in these romantic letters that float through your head with such ease. You’ll just emotionally rape her again and she won’t respond. What good does that do? No, you’ll never find what you’re looking for until you can actually get back there and look into those eyes again. Then you can at least silence the arguments with truth. ‘But my career!’ ‘It’s still there.’ ‘But different coasts!’ ‘It’s still there’. ‘But we need money!’ ‘It’s still there, baby.’ And one last kiss and walk away, leave, and have her ruminate on the truth that eats you up for a bit. Then to see friends that are sorely missed. Spend some time with their kids. Talk to people who can actually tell you personality traits of their toys. Feel the breath come easier as you talk to believers. None of this business crap or what you need to do to get ahead in the world. Just the characteristics of a stuffed teddy. Playing an adventure with Iron Man. A conversational orgy on the back patio with Linek. Oh, how you miss those. Spill those guts to those who have been around since damn near birth. Hug your mom. Sink into coziness in that apartment she’s so lonely in. Holiday specials and her baking cookies. No dick-grabbing and weed-infested vulgar lyrics at the moment. None of that. Just the crisp, cool air of the East Coast filling your lungs. Finding a spot with Drew to kick it, lighting a blunt, reassuring him the friendship is more important than anything else. Reassure yourself. Tell everyone you’re about to get badly raped if things go according to plan, but it’s OK, it’s for the greater good. Money for all of them, that’s the real success. Just a breather. Just these different-whether-you-like-it-or-not holiday months. Just a few whiffs of the birthplace air and then, after a quick respite, onward and forward into 2013, pushing and pushing, trying to muster up the commitment to actually transform into a comet and rocket upward, past the clouds and into the realm of dreams…

About George Lucas…

World hunger. Poverty. Homelessness. These are not real problems. George Lucas, ONE MAN, who was already UNIMAGINABLY RICH, was just given FOUR BILLION DOLLARS for Lucasfilm. ONE MAN just received FOUR BILLION DOLLARS. All these problems are fake. Take that entire sum, realize you’ll live off what you have for the rest of your life, and give all of it to the poor and hungry of the world. You’re telling me four fucking billion can’t put a massive dent in world hunger? Lucas donated $175 million to USC. A college?? When people can’t eat?? I usually don’t get upset over shit like this, but I find this sum INFURIATING. Sweet fucking Christ, please, please, please, let me always be about the attention and not the money. Let my narcissistic lust for ego stroking cancel out the fucking greed because that’s obviously what’s killing this whole fucking world. Four billion. Jesus! (Sorry for yelling).