I have come to the conclusion that being an actor is the same as being a masochist.
As I sit here punching myself in the face repeatedly by watching the academy awards; thinking “God! I’ll never be there will I”? And that sinking feeling in my stomach begins to seep in as the fucking Social Network continues to collect awards…
I want to cry.
Not because I thought the Social Network was shit and unworthy of being a best film nominee but because I can’t seem to accept reality. I can’t seem to accept the fact that I may not be “discovered” as I always thought I would be.
So I have to ask myself: why do I continue to dream only to fall short? Why do I continue to stab myself in the face? I must like it right? The rejection, the criticism, and the toll it takes on my self esteem and self assurance. No, I wasn’t talking about the hosts of the 83rd Academy Awards boring me to near suicide (which they completely are. I much rather would have wanted to see Ellen DeGeneres or Billy Crystal host).
The actors’ universe is filled with shit. It’s a curse. If I had only wanted to be a doctor or a lawyer, I would have been on my way to success. But because I can’t think of one single thing I want to do more I have a death sentence to struggle itself. I mean, where the fuck is Quentin Tarantino? Because I have been waiting for him since I was 7!
What the fuck am I going to do?
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