Three Core Values from an Apple that Didn't Fall Far from the Tree

A year ago, I read a The Adoration of Jenna Fox. Since then, I've really wanted to be able to upload my brain onto a hard drive and just be able to sort through it in a simple way like a computer instead of the jumbled mess that is my mind. I'm a naturally messy person, and that seeps into a lot of what I do, even into how I think. I'm always all over the place. It's like most people have their thoughts in an alphabetized filing cabinet while mine are just kinda scribbled-on napkins mixed with end-of-term papers and crumpled articles stuffed in this cabinet until you can't open it in fear it'll burst. I guess that's why I'm so incomprehendable in this, because my core values are just as crumpled and intrinsic as I see my thought process.
But here we go.
I'll try my best to be as understandable as I can, just for you, Doll. If you say please. Or not. Be rude, if you fancy it.
1. Control/Security
This one seems to be a constant. I kind of go in circles with it, and hopefully someone can help me brush out the knots. But when I was a kid, I used to freak out over control. I still do, but differently. I used to need it or else I wouldn't be able to play nice. I was an older sibling, it's natural. But now, I need to be in control of what I'm put in control of, I need a choice in the matter. Sometimes I feel like I wish someone would take everything I have to do off of my shoulders, and on occasion I have tried to delegate my own burden on others. Maybe I just put too much on myself, or just get overwhelmed by little things. I'm probably just a wuss. Goddamn, this sounds so freaking depressing. It isn't, really, I promise. I'm just a bit of a worry wart. A negative Nelly at times. Wait just one moment. Now it's starting to turn into a self-reliance thing. Which might also be a jealously thing. But jealousy can be dealt with later, and with a scythe and the country radio app my Mom recently downloaded. Self-reliance is really big for me. And it fits in with what I'm saying above, in a way. All I really want is to be self reliant. I've always wanted be that way. But I'm not so I guess this is Jealousy. Can that be a core value? Envy? Aspiration? Self-improving? Security is all about keeping yourself safe, preserved. But I'm really just scared of being degraded. Which then goes into my next little point.
2. Praise/Self - Worth
I am a giant puppy. You scratch me behind the ears and I will protect you by no bounds. Wierd that I'm not so protective of myself, huh? I just want someone to put me on a leash in a totally platonic way. Litany in Which Certain Things are Crossed Out by Richard Siken really explains how I feel. I was close to hysterics the first time I read it. There's a link to it, if you please. You don't even have to google it, it's right there. But maybe it doesn't explain me. Maybe I'm projecting. I do that.
Reading this back, I don't wan't you to feel bad for me. And I feel like that's what's happening. I want Respect.  And I just don't know how to get it.  I want to feel equal, like I haven't put everyone around me on a pedestal while I wax the Mausoleum Floor. I did this to myself and I take complete Responsibility. I don't want to be seen as this silly little girl who worries whether her hair looks alright no matter how true that is. I don't want to be grouped into something, something so negatively viewed by the world. Teenager. I don't want to be a teenager. I want to be someone that I would look up to. I want to sit in a clean movie theatre with great acoustics while I watch a fantastic movie that makes my heart swell the way it does such that I can't help but curl my toes and be abundantly happy. Not like in the movies. Like real life. It's happened before. I'm losing my train, where have the tracks gone? Is that smoke in the distance? Can we make it if we run fast and peel back our eyes till they burn and we're nothing but happy and breathless? Till we feel nothing but alive? Can I write that for myself? I'm so used to needing someone to pat my head and I'm getting so sick of it. But who can pat their head while still rubbing their stomach because I have nothing but a hunger to keep moving.
3. Escape
From what I had written today, I'm surprised this wasn't written anywhere on it. The deeper that I've gone now, I see that whenever I'd go back to relief or control or some other relatively predictable thing, I forget this little popular gem. Escape. I cannot live without escape, and I see that now. This is something I'm very protective over. I feel like a lot of what I do is fake as I've gotten older, so forced. I want people to like me so much that I feel strangled myself. Escape has always been a way to clear my head, to let someone else take up rent for a spell and just feel. Escape is what I haven't done in a while. Something that I need desperately to start again. I'm quite tough on myself, I get stress headaches quite often because I don't exactly face my problems. I have a tendency to just let them be and that can be more self destructive than running from them, the way I see it. Escape is just to let me relax for a bit. I need to relax. I don't relax. I can lay in bed for hours on end but don't think for a second that it helps in that field. Again, quite a Negative Nelly, huh? I need to stop being so hard on myself, but I also need to get my shit together. I can't seem to do either. This is long and probably boring. I'm picking my brain to an audience that shouldn't have had to suffer through the first paragraph. Thank you to anyone who read through, thank you to everyone that skimmed. Thank you for caring. Thank you for being you.

Questions! Interest in my Life!

The First Set of Questions

1) You've worked on a group film and on your own. In which situation are you most comfortable - group or solo? Which do you work best in?
I feel like I do best on my own. Mostly because it takes out the large portion of worrying that tends to go towards other people. Working on my own, I only have to worry about myself and that takes a bit of the pressure off, and the pressure that's left tends to push me to be better. I'm also quite the follower in group situations, which I need to work on, because it ends with me feeling like I haven't contributed enough which I'd like to change.

 2) What did you learn that you expected to learn?
That I could get it out. That I still had 'it'. I could write a monologue and it wasn't complete shit. I didn't do a lot of writing over the summer which is really starting to bug me, so knowing that I'm not a one trick pony is a nice little boost to my self-esteem. As I constantly restate, I am quite the spineless jellyfish when it comes to my own work, because of constant self-doubt. Hopefully this will give me enough of a push to stop whining all of the goddamn time.

3) What did you learn that you didn't expect to learn?
I'm getting back into slam poetry. I was already into listening to it, but after this I'm really interested in the performing aspect of it. Acting still kind of scares me, but poetry is in a completely different section of my brain. And I'm really curious as to why that is, why I have such different relationships with things that are quite similar in nature. So I guess what I learned is a new, different facet of a love I already had that my brain doesn't connect to what I was actually doing.

4) What didn't you learn that you expected to learn?
Whether I was good or not? I thought trying out this acting spiel would give me an opinion on whether I was good or not at it, but I just don't know. I still don't know. I think a better way to explain it is that I don't know if I like it. If I'm good at something, it tends to give me this push to continue with it to stroke my own ego. But not knowing if I'm good or not is just leaving me in this wierd space. I really don't like talking about how superficial I can be.

 5) Praise your amazing achievement and explain your brilliant plan for pulling it off.If you know me, you know I can turn into quite the nervous wreck in under a minute. But I stayed up there! I put on a brave face! I didn't pass out! Big steps for me, guys. Huge.
But in all seriousness, I'm really proud of myself for not giving up. For not buckling under my own sets of standards and pressure. Also, I really liked the script. It got through a few of the issues I've been hiding from. I definitely haven't cleaned out my closet, not by a long shot, but letting myself run with personal ideas and not thinking "No, I can't let anyone see this, it's too personal, too much of me... etc." was really releasing. Not as much negative energy in the creative process. All of the negativity went into the actual script and the astoundingly winding blog posts.

The Second Set of Questions

1) How much time did you spend working?Working or worrying? I got the writing done considerable quickly, around four hours. All of Monday and a bit of Tuesday. At the same time, I feel like it should have been quicker. For the length of it, it really shouldn't have taken me that long. I put quite a lot of thought into each line which takes up time, but ends up having a lot of meaning to me which people either relate to or don't.

2) How much time did you spend thinking about the work - sort of sitting there and staring at it, or listening to it over and over again, etc.?
I'm embarrassed to say that I spent way too much time mulling it over, reading it over and over and worrying and embossing it in braile onto my frontal lobe. Once it was all over, said and done, I loved it and there weren't really any changes from the first draft, but it took a while to get to that point. I wasted that time without realizing it, about another three hours.

3) How much time did you spend doing other stuff that seems like work to that make you think you're working but you're not?
I sat for too long worrying and thinking that I was revising when I was just sitting there, my brain exploding in a stream of consciousness word document which has been burned to preserve my dignity. I hate it when I do that. Gotta stop. Moving on.

4) How much time did you spend socializing?Now that I look back, surprisingly not as much as I'd thought. It was much more community than socializing. Once I started worrying, though, I didn't socialize as much as I threw on a pair of earphones and tried to calm my shit. Sure, it's really hard not to socialize and I'm not going to lie and say I didn't. But it's less than I expected and I kept to myself more than I usually do while under pressure. Or maybe not. My memory might be slowly getting away from me and maybe I'm in a Nursing Home and it's 2068 and my daughter won't visit me because she's a brat who lives in Colorado and didn't want to take her ailing, senile mother with her.

5) How did you use your community?While I was writing, I sat with the little dead-end community and just having people around you, seeing that they're getting stuff out really motivates you. I also used my community to keep myself from running around like a chicken with it's head cut off, sqwacking that the sky would fall which no one would understand because they wouldn't speak cock. Talking about how I was worried out loud really kept me from worrying so much, if that makes sense.

6) Rip apart your awful project and how did such a disaster happen?Jessica, you have no idea what you're doing when it comes to a lot of things, and acting is one of them. I had no idea of where to focus, my eyes were like a rabid rabbits. My palms were sweaty and I went to fast compared to the pace that I had found comfortable. Also, no matter what I say, I played it safe with the script in my opinion. It was like a bunch of stuff that I'd written before in different mediums, mainly poetry. Also, I'd like to think that I'm open about pretty much everything if you ask politely, but a new issue has come up in my writing that I'm becoming more and more frightened of to the point where I'm deliberately trying to take out it's references from my writing and it sucks because it's such a big part of my life and it's really impossible to take it all out but I'm honestly scared enough of it to run. I shouldn't feel like I have to run from things in my own writing. So what? People hear something in what you write and perceive it a certain way? Usually that doesn't bother me, but I don't know. This topic irks me. I don't even really want to talk about it but it's affecting me to the point where I feel like it's effing up my writing and so it at least has to be covered, at least vaguely.

7) You've completed a step on your path. What is your next step?I'm at a bit of a crossroads, I don't know if I should take a closer look at writing scripts for films or performance poetry. They're quite different things, and I'm really interested in both, but for completely different reasons. I started reading scripts for films over the summer after watching the movies and I really fell in love with the Social Network script (after first seeing it over and year ago and it's progression into being in my top ten favorite movies) and how it exported into the visual medium. I'm really starting to crave reading scripts, after seeing movies and tv shows I just want to get my hands on them and sink my teeth in. The movies I saw this summer just really inspired this spark in me. I was also pretty terrible at movie scripts last year, so it'd be quite nice to improve. With Slam Poetry, it's just something I thoroughly enjoy. I've taken to reading Dickinson and Siken out loud in my spare time, when I have no real commitments, and it's very soothing and therapeutic to get my buzzing emotions out of my system or to at least acknowledge them.

Final Intention Statement in the Medium of Acrylic Nails

My final product is a jumbled yet coherent bundle of me. Scratch that, it's probably most coherent to me. But to put out good work, I'm going to need to start being aware of my issues or else I'm not actively writing something, I'd just be running blind.
Last year, I started scratching the surface of my artistic issues, and Guilt is a big thing. As I was writing this, I realized how really deep these issues truly lie. To be honest, I don't scrutinize things as much as I probably should. I say I like something based on first instinct rather than with facts that back it up. Now I'm learning why I like things and why I do things and why I learn things the way that I do and it's much more interesting than I thought it would be.
I like a majority of the music I like because of complex lyrics. About two to three years ago, I wanted to be a lyricist. I also feel like the music I listen to deeply impacts my writing, it's style, and my tone of voice. Not only that, it inspires a lot of it as well. While feeling and writing this project (in that order) I was constantly listening to the mixtapes I've made for people (I'm a personal gift type of person) in the last few months coupled with some of the stuff I've recently discovered. I've mentioned a couple of the pieces in my last few blog posts, and I think they really show who I am as a person while my monologue shows quite a bit of what the songs are and so on and so forth. In the same token, Poetry and Slam Poetry in General have really influenced this as well. Sierra DeMulder is my personal favorite poet and slam poet, and I've recently discovered Richard Siken, whose book 'Crush' won the 2004 Yale Younger Poets Prize is absolutely stunning and I need to own a copy pronto. I've also gotten into Emily Dickinson this summer (this could be construed as lame and generic) and during an hour and a half wait at this place where they take blood which could be considered the equivalent of swimming under Satan's tongue, absorbing his putrid breath, I started reading aloud a bunch of Dickinson works in the corner. Sitting on the floor. Half of my body under a fake plant. This has now travelled into some strange territory. What I mean to say, is that these little quirky things I do make me who I am and make my works what they are and make me cranky on tuesdays.
And I love that. I love that I'm becoming myself.
So whatever you may take from my 'little thing' tomorrow, please realize that all I want you to know is that I'm still finding myself and what that even means anymore when everything and everyone is so clean cut and sanitary and freaking annoying.

"So I Shed My Clothes, Shed My Flesh, Down to the Bone, and Burned the Rest"

I have spent my sick day practicing, blowing my nose, sleeping, finishing a season on netflix, and listening to Things by Frightened Rabbits about fifteen times today in all. I just can't seem to get it out of my head.

I have the script down pat. In my head. Memorized.
But now I'm scared that I'll mess up under the pressure.
There's a reason I write, kiddos.
Nevertheless, I'm trying not to think like that.
And that's what this song is helping me do.
Everytime I get a little overwhelmed I just turn it on and by the time the chorus comes on I'm in back to my normally strange self.

This whole week has been unreal at most mildly uncomfortable at least. I've learned that I'm not as incapable as I thought, which is nice, but I don't know how long this feeling will hold up. Probably not too spectacularly long, seeing as I'm a massive toddler bound up in a teenager's body who has the maternal instincts of a lioness.

On that note, stay tuned for a formaldehyde-laced cocktail of a final intention statement.

As a White American, I felt Personally Victimized by us bombing Hiroshima.

Time to Post, isn't it?

Well, I'm feeling a bit stuck in an emotional sense.
I'm doing something I've never done before,
and I'm a little on edge.

I started word vomiting on this decrepid keyboard earlier, just letting go of all of my insecurities and worries and borderline self-disgust. I needed that. I recommend it.
Letting it all go just... It makes you take a hard look at what you're saying and see what's true and what's not. And a lot of it wasn't true. Sure, some of it hit hard and really hurt, but that stuff was true and I can't change it in the past, I can only get better.

And now it's all about doing the best I can to memorize it. I keep reading it over and over again, feeling it and letting it out and I'm starting to feel more and more conscious of what it's really about, for me. And it's scary but it's true.
Very personal for me, but I'm letting go of something important, something that has become integral to who I've become that I just can't seem to shake. Something that's hurting me and I let it, willingly. Something that has made me into a masochist because it taught me to thrive under emotional distress. It makes me unbelievably happy, but it's slowly killing me. And I don't know what I'm saying anymore.
I guess I just need to let this all out.
Somewhere.
But I hope you all sleep well,
and that you learn to love the stars such that you are no longer fearful of the night.

I'm known for being Reasonable and Circumcised - and other one liners I don't regret writing

My monologue is turning more and more into a poetic peice. It might be that I feel more comfortable performing poetry than 'acting', although my brain doesn't see much of a difference. Not that I feel comfortable performing in general, but breaking barriers is all about not giving yourself a heart attack when you see what's behind the brick wall.
I keep thinking of the piece Ilana put up last year. I really really really loved it. The flow, the multiple views of possible perception of... Everything.
I also tend to listen to music that I find lyrically brilliant, or that just have this poetic feel. With this piece, I've been listening to...

Justin Nozuka - Don't Listen To A Word You've Heard

 

Now, Now - Wolf

 

...and

http://vimeo.com/20529257

The Knife - Pass This On

Which apparently Youtube doesn't find important enough to have in it's immense Library.

 

 

In other news, I love the way I've ended things so far. I think I'm done. I'm excited.

But now the hard part.

Do I do it with or without the script?

I probably shouldn't.

I'm 82% sure that I shouldn't.

BUT WHAT IF I MESSED UP MY OWN SCRIPT.

I would never let myself live it down.

This is where the inner conflict comes in.

I don't want to let myself down.

Jessica, shut up.

Okay.

 

Here's the script...

MADISON is sitting with her legs crossed and a tapping a pen to a thick packet of paper. It taps louder and more violently until she throws down the pen and looks up. Her angered reaction quickly switches to embarrassment and then comfort.

Madison

I... I'm so sorry. But ya know? People can be such shits.

She picks up the pen and runs her thumb along the impressed copyright.

MADISON

I mean, people have feelings, right? Not physical, I know if I punched a guy's butt he'd be in thorough pain... Or intrigued. Not the point. I'm talking emotions.
People feel things, they say they love something and they mean it?
Does that exist anymore?

You know what? I miss that.

MADISON uncrosses her legs and leans forward.

MADISON

And you know something else? I'm starting to care less and less. Everyday, I see it and I do nothing and it's become normal.

A beat.

MADISON

It's not normal.

She sits straighter.

MADISON

But who am I to complain? Really? I'm only part of the problem, and it can be a terrible way to think of yourself, but here's the best part. It's true.
It's true and I'm not denying shit.

But I was here. And that's all I can do. So all I can say is...
Remember me.
Remember me when you think about the sun and why it goes away, remember me when you think about faith and how I always said, "God isn't a being, it's a feeling."

She looks down. A Pause.

MADISON

Remember me when Mom says I never happened.
That I was a mistake.
Remember me when you're alone and no one can see what you're thinking, splayed across your pretty little goddamn face.
I'll be out of here. And I'm so sorry.

She looks up and as she speaks, she slowly stands.

MADISON

Love me. Love me more. Do it together. Say it out loud.
I'm so sorry.

Day One! Let's sit and talk and have feelings.

So, I started writing a monologue today. And I've realized a few little quirks I have.
I can't go on for paragraphs upon eternities without little stage directions breaking it up. It looks so big and scary all put together that I have to split it up.
Also, I've gotten a bit of passive agressive angst in here, which I wasn't expecting.
This girl, she's upset for some reason that I'm still throwing ideas around for and she goes into this 'rant' (I don't read it as bratty in nature, but it could be perceived that way) about how she doesn't know if people feel things anymore (the italics are completely justified, thankyouverymuch.)
I feel like I throw this idea around in my head so much that I'm almost desensitized to it and I just need to get it all out.
I don't know.
Maybe I just need to get this out before I can put something proper out. Maybe I'll use it. Most likely, it'll go through quite a bit of editing anyways. Any ideas? I feel like I didn't bounce enough off of my community today and that I would have benefitted from it.
I need to clear my head. I can't get stuck on myself. Someone kick me in the shins actually don't that would be painful and I would react by reciprocating. Violence is only ever sometimes almost maybe the answer during a full moon.

Hello Friend, Please Hold Me

It is pretty well known that my self-diagnosed worst character trait is self-doubt.
And I hate that I need constant reassurance, but I do. And I know that it won't always be there, but I can't help freak out when I think something of mine isn't 'good enough' whatever that means.
I guess it could be considered perfectionism, but it isn't, I swear. Mostly because I don't believe what we have been taught to perceive as perfection exists, but oh well. I can't really proactively do anything about it. Or maybe I can. Someone Hold Me. Or not, if that makes you uncomfortable. I just want you to be content.

Ah! Another issue that has come up recently! I suddenly have this extreme maternal instinct to make sure everyone is okay and happy and all of that fluff. I'm not used to this. I'm so used to self-preservation that putting everyone in front of my own needs feels right but wierd but right. I think it started in December. Has enough time passed to go to a self-help class for it? Maybe it'll come in handy on a STAC trip or something equally as helpful with protectiveness.

Also, listen to Royal Teeth's Act Naturally - EP. Shh, just go with it.
I really fracking like it, if I do say so myself.
Or you could listen to Black Treacle by the Arctic Monkeys.
Which is lovely as well.
Let's dance together. Even though I cannot dance for the life of me.

And now.... off to write an intention statement!

Don't Blame Me for the Inconvenience, if there is One.

• 1. What is the first creative moment you remember?
• When I was quite young, my older cousins who are about my age used to babysit me, and my siblings. And I just remember having this idea in my head, and want to tell this story. You know when you're little and you come up with these completely stolen stories? Well it happened to me quite often. I stole everything. I stole lines from the Cosby Show. So I wanted to tell a story that was basically Goldilocks. I don't even like Goldilocks.
  The bigger part of the story is that I couldn't write yet. So I had this piece of paper, scribbled all over, and was pretending I knew what it said. As if I could actually read this gibberish when I hadn't even learned to read or write yet. But I digress.
• 2. Was anyone there to witness or appreciate it?
• My cousins, who tried to be patient and supportive but most likely just wanted me to shut my mouth. My self consciousness probably has roots in this instance as well, actually.
• 3. What is the best idea you’ve ever had?
• My great ideas tend to be borderline unbelievably ridiculous or stupid, but this is my favorite. I basically want to have a line of pillows that are a mix with blow up dolls, with faces and bodies printed on them, because body pillows are all ready ridiculous so why not expand on that? A Mila Kunis body pillow. A (terrifying) David Hasselhoff body pillow.
• 4. What made it great in your mind?
• The fact that people would buy it. People would give someone money for a body pillow with a famous person, or even themself on it. People seek comfort in the strangest places. And that fascinates me and I would love to 'exploit' it.
• 5. What is the dumbest idea?
• I could just restate, but I am very good at being dumb. Let's go through my iPod notes. I once wondered whether dogs could get abortions. I googled it. They can. But let's see. In the past 24 hours, and I think this is the most ridiculous thing I've thought of in a while, I thought I wanted to make a bad Spy Kids Movie.
• 6. What made it stupid?
• Well, all Spy Kids movies are pretty terrible, but it's so bad that I can't help but laughing. And that's why I'd want to do it, but it is just such a phenomenally terrible idea that I might have to write the script to save for a rainy day.
• 7. Can you connect the dots that led you to this idea?
• Alexa likes to fall asleep with the tv on, so I end up watching bad tv until she's in her deep bear slumber. So for some reason Disney Channel was on, and I was too lazy to grab the remote, but just hearing some of this masterful screenwriting got me thinking about how someone okay'd this. One person wrote this, an entirely different person accepted it, and then actors went along with it. Movies are more than one person, and seeing something so well financed being so wasted is remarkable. Writing it would take one day, having only mediocre plotline and humorous at best dialogue. I feel like I could do it, and do it better, even though the only redeeming quality is the irony that it's a movie. And I'm in High School. I don't know how to feel about it.