Mr. Cellophane

In a location adjacent to a place in a city of some significance, what comes out of my head is plastered on the walls of this blog.

Sunday, January 30, 2011

I've wasted my life.

No, this isn't the ordinary, generic, run-of-the-mill whining about wasting my life. This time, it's specific.

I spent the latter two years of college at an accredited university with a film program. People were creating incredible work at that school: short films, computer projects. Did I work just as hard or make any connections with those people, in the vain hope that, if one of them made it into the business, I might be able to nudge my way in? If the answer was yes, would I be making this post?

I made very little (if any) connections with anyone. I had a golden opportunity and seven and a half years later, I've nothing to show for it. This became clear to me as I was preparing to attend a going-away party for a girl who lived up the street from me and who was fulfilling the promise she'd shown as an NYU student/protege of no less than Spike Lee, and who I talked to a grand total of, maybe, three times. BTW, it turned out that the party was yesterday.

All I have now are a passel of half-finished screenplays and half-baked ideas. Maybe, it's finally time to hit Facebook and start kissing ass.



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