What every blog is about: outbursts of random thoughts and ideas

Everyone from 20-29 is in the midst of their lives. 30-39 is nearly prime. But it’s 40-49 that’s really the best years of your life. Because you are still good looking but now appeal to all ages. 18, 30, 45, 50, they all go for the perfectly ripe 40ish guy. And they are also in their intellectual prime as well. But the ones in their 20s are the ones who on the most part think they’ll live forever because  they’re still in that young mindset of “my entire future” lay ahead of me. But some 20 year olds are like edgar allen poe meets kurt cobain – “I’m going to die soon” crowd. Why they think they’re going to die soon is beyond me. I’m not a psychologist. I’m not a researcher or journalist or game show host. I don’t know.

It’s difficult to handle professional rejection. You want to be mature about it and use criticisms as helpful tips for the future. But at the same time, it makes you feel so low and empty inside. I’ve been writing the same script for 5 years and only recently did it occur to me that while the idea might be interesting, the end result, is not. So I started writing something similar, because I wanted to keep the theme alive but change the story around a bit. I sent it to a woman who has been a professional writer for 40 years and she absolutely lampooned it. I mean she went off like no one I’ve ever seen in my life. “Puerile, flat, listless, nonsensical, annoying, stupid and banal to the point of coma-inducing” were among the things she said about it. I asked for the truth, and I got it. I appreciate that honesty, I really do, because lying to me and telling me its good when it’s obviously not is not helpful at all. I just wish I could see what is so banal and stupid about it. I wish I could create something of higher quality, and its too bad I can’t produce something better right now.

It’s New York. And I’m finally realizing that I live in a kick-ass city with so much to do. Everyone is from somewhere else. Except for me of course. I’ve lived in New York as long as I could remember. One of my employees, X, lived in Chicago. She moved here to go to school and be a musician. X is not a bad singer. Quite good actually. Another employee is from California, lets call this one Y. Y is a totally chilled out dude who’s always high. Very west coast mentality. Anyway, he came here to study filmmaking and try to be a director. Z is also from Chicago, an aspiring actor.  He’s gay and doesn’t hesitate to remind us of that, but his only real problem is that he smokes too much weed. I guess everyone does, it relaxes the mind and body. Then we have J, K, and L, who are born and raised in New York, but in very different parts. Then there’s A and B who have Asian roots, but are American-born. Then there’s me. An aspiring… good human being. That’s what I want to be above all else. A good human being. And whatever it means to be one, is what I’ll do.