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Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Dream On

I always hate writing these posts. Here I am again, writing about heading to the "other" coast. I leave Massachusetts tomorrow. It sounds weird, but I'm not really looking forward to going back to California. I'll probably have to tell a hundred lies about the Boston Film Festival. I'll struggle to find a job. And, I'll probably be doing it all by myself since I'm never going to meet anyone. I'm talking about women for all the clueless.

That's the thing about being here in Peabody. It's a dream. It's not reality. I can't live here and do what I want to do. The other day I was supposed to meet with my old high school TV teacher. I admire the guy and all, but he's so clueless and content teaching uninspired students about tv and video. Call me an ass, but I can't do that. I have to be in the big picture.

If there is one thing I've learned from Kopelson is success. I admire Arnold so much that I feel like I need to be just like him. He said it best, "I must win. I must always win. I cannot be number two." It won't be an easy road, but that's why I need to leave Peabody. Even though people tell me the film industry is coming to Massachusetts, I don't buy it for one second. I need to get back where the action really is.

I actually set up an appointment with the recruitment agency that called me back in June. I'm really hoping that something works out. Although, I'm still pissed about ever moving to Glendale. Easily the dumbest thing I've done since falling for some girl named Kristen. It's not that I hate the actual place, but more the location relative to jobs. Cross off Santa Monica, Beverly Hills, Century City, Culver City and West Hollywood. That leaves Burbank, North Hollywood, Universal City, and Studio City. Regardless, I'm done worrying about other people's residential preference. I'm moving to West Hollywood in May and I'm content living by myself.

This is where The Dream comes in. It's being something you can only purely dream of. Never giving up and holding yourself to such a high standard that it's probably unhealthy. Is The Dream attainable? I have no fucking clue. That's why it's called The Dream not The Reality. All I know is I need to go back to California to find out.

So here is to the roads that need to be traveled, women that need to be fucked, and movies that need to be made.

Dream On,
The Dreamer

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