fuck CT
So I feel compelled to bitch about this place.
Because of my friend Tim I'm going to go back and help him write the rest of the Fairfield saga. He'll be taking over the book writing series.
We're going to be doing a movie. Possibly more than one. I disdain the fucking idea of having to go back to Connecticut again. I want the chapter of my life closed forever on Connecticut. I'm doing it more for him than I am for myself.
Manhattan is costly to live in but it's home and I love it more than anything.
New York City in general really, a permanent home for me. If a movie about Fairfield or what have you can produce money for my Manhattan rent so be it.
I shouldn't be honest about this kind of thing. I should turn it into another novel and bank on the cash later on. I should play career strategies on this matter. But I'm not and I highly doubt by the time this movie is successful the audience will figure out their way to my blog. So I'm pretty sure the situation is safe.
If you do find this out later on know that Tim really gives a shit about Fairfield and all that fucking shit.
Tim is a really good person and he deserves the success from this series and despite the fact that it benefits me I would rather not do this if it wasn't for Tim.
If in the future this becomes an absurd success (which is will) and you find this, be heartened in your heroic character and know that I love N.Y.C. and now find this as home.
Know that I wish nobody ever read those fucking books about Fairfield.
I'm onto writing about Manhattan now and hate the state of Connecticut more than ass on ass porn.
Seriously. I hate the fucking suburbs and think all the cities in C.T. are deadville, worthless and unappealing to even pretend in film as Manhattan streets.
The only time people film in those cities is when they pretend that it's New York anyhow.
I fucking hate Connecticut so greatly and I'm returning tomorrow. I'm going to get working on this shit with Tim. I'm going to get working on fucking Fairfield Movie which we'll call it for now not because I want to but because Tim is a good person and deserves the future and press and options from this.
Yeah, I'm a decent person too. I deserve the cash to fund my Manhattan rent, I need cash to fund my production company so I can make music videos for the rest of my life, base myself out of Manhattan and create the best scene I can (or document such) in beloved Brooklyn.
I've spent years creating this fucking Fairfield saga and I hate it.
I wish the entire fucking thing would die. The first book or two are about a girl I wish I'd never dated. They were sacrificed stories and the entire excitement of the most hated first novel was building to escaping from Connecticut and going to film school. They're a lesson in disdain for the suburban way of life. They're a fuck you to the entire white picket fence existence; the bullshit prepstar game and the 2.5 kids.
I wrote the first books and finished them so I could get to Velouria in the third book. Girls like her were the ones that mattered. I wish I'd started out writing that way the whole time, just wrote everything in first tense and didn't make the story book format.
I left episodes during that period of time so I could do it later.
So I could make movies about the period of time that mattered.
When it was almost over and we were working towards college, when I was working my way to Manhattan, to art school and girls that didn't make me deep down wanna strangle their parents; that's when it mattered.
This is important to write about, for me (and not so much for my sales) because I really made it seem like I gave a shit about the suburbs. I used words that people probably feel akin to and made a fairy tale that in real life I hated in a place black and empty (I couldn't go there if I tried).
In the real life version of that story I wanted to end that shit, crush up the relationship and date the girls I actually liked; it usually had to do with music and in truth only mattered with Velouria. Had she existed before, earlier on; everything would synced.
The real story involves family problems, my disdain for my father and a clinging to a girl because of that. It involved the mistake of sitting around and waiting for a shitty period of time to be over simply because it was a shitty period of time instead of getting up wounded and dealing with shit.
Getting up and saying 'look I don't even fucking love you, like you nor know what the fuck you're talking about'.
It's a valuable lesson.
I started it as a sequel for my character in the series. It was apart of the 'Fairfield, Connecticut' novel.
Maybe it won't end for myself until I write the real diaries of that character.
Perhaps I can close the chapter for myself in re-reading these books I hate and reflecting upon each chapter as what REALLY happened in god-mode writing or 1st person.
Perhaps I should write it from after Mike escapes Fairfield, Connecticut.
After he escapes the state of Connecticut.
I don't know who reads this blog and I'm being way too honest I suppose but it makes me feel better on the matter.
I hate the fact of having to go BACK to Connecticut again.
I look forward to the day it's REALLY over.
I suppose that sort of reality comes with finishing the series.
I won't have time for this sort of thing once I finish school and work for some production house in Manhattan or do music videos slash whatever one does post S.V.A. in N.Y.C.
Although I do also have grad school plans.
I avoided Connecticut for such a mass of time. I hate going back. Everytime I leave the island my stomach cringes. I see those fucking signs and hear the Metro-North train, the trees reappear: disturbance holds true.
I'm not a fan of nature. The trees and the whole fucking thing, I hate it.
Leaving home, beautiful cab honk with flowers (thanks bloomy) plus amazing hipster girls central park hells kitchen roof leading to walks along hudson river: ehh. For Connecticut.
I have so much hate for Connecticut; it's worth the novel idea. To do justice for my character.
To do justice for how much I hate those novels. When I'm 15 and I'm anti-smoking and all this shit and I bitch about everything. Looking back as a smoker and getting over the phase of pretending I was against drugs. Trading the pretentious straight edge character early on in the episodes.
I feel like that shows over. Apparently not until I make this fucking movie.
So I do it for art school.
And I suffer in going to Connecticut. Because I'm doing it in a place I'd rather burn than film.
But it's art and it used to mean something.
So if this is the future and you're looking back on this wondering what inspired your beloved movie don't contact me if you're from Connecticut unless your moving to N.Y.C. and an art school girl (or some version of said).
Tim is your hero. He'll have kids there or has one. I'm never having children. I'm getting a vasectomy to assure that. This is how much I hate children.
But Tim will care about your town, probably live there after this is done and if Connecticut ever comes looking for a hero please for the love of God make it Tim.
I'm not your hero. I go to art school and live in N.Y.C. hence such people ARE my people.
I don't like the place of Connecticut I'll just be doing art work there.
Because my friendship with Tim means more to me than my dark acid-piss feelings towards Connecticut.
Hopefully you are reading this from the future and it is a big success. In which case (hell even if the fucker fails) I'll be in Manhattan. Frequently in Brooklyn. Don't come looking for me unless you live here and like good music.
As soon as I'm done with this shit I'm done with Connecticut.
Then I can continue working on art depicting a place I love.
Incase you're fucking stupid I'm referring to New York City.
Because of my friend Tim I'm going to go back and help him write the rest of the Fairfield saga. He'll be taking over the book writing series.
We're going to be doing a movie. Possibly more than one. I disdain the fucking idea of having to go back to Connecticut again. I want the chapter of my life closed forever on Connecticut. I'm doing it more for him than I am for myself.
Manhattan is costly to live in but it's home and I love it more than anything.
New York City in general really, a permanent home for me. If a movie about Fairfield or what have you can produce money for my Manhattan rent so be it.
I shouldn't be honest about this kind of thing. I should turn it into another novel and bank on the cash later on. I should play career strategies on this matter. But I'm not and I highly doubt by the time this movie is successful the audience will figure out their way to my blog. So I'm pretty sure the situation is safe.
If you do find this out later on know that Tim really gives a shit about Fairfield and all that fucking shit.
Tim is a really good person and he deserves the success from this series and despite the fact that it benefits me I would rather not do this if it wasn't for Tim.
If in the future this becomes an absurd success (which is will) and you find this, be heartened in your heroic character and know that I love N.Y.C. and now find this as home.
Know that I wish nobody ever read those fucking books about Fairfield.
I'm onto writing about Manhattan now and hate the state of Connecticut more than ass on ass porn.
Seriously. I hate the fucking suburbs and think all the cities in C.T. are deadville, worthless and unappealing to even pretend in film as Manhattan streets.
The only time people film in those cities is when they pretend that it's New York anyhow.
I fucking hate Connecticut so greatly and I'm returning tomorrow. I'm going to get working on this shit with Tim. I'm going to get working on fucking Fairfield Movie which we'll call it for now not because I want to but because Tim is a good person and deserves the future and press and options from this.
Yeah, I'm a decent person too. I deserve the cash to fund my Manhattan rent, I need cash to fund my production company so I can make music videos for the rest of my life, base myself out of Manhattan and create the best scene I can (or document such) in beloved Brooklyn.
I've spent years creating this fucking Fairfield saga and I hate it.
I wish the entire fucking thing would die. The first book or two are about a girl I wish I'd never dated. They were sacrificed stories and the entire excitement of the most hated first novel was building to escaping from Connecticut and going to film school. They're a lesson in disdain for the suburban way of life. They're a fuck you to the entire white picket fence existence; the bullshit prepstar game and the 2.5 kids.
I wrote the first books and finished them so I could get to Velouria in the third book. Girls like her were the ones that mattered. I wish I'd started out writing that way the whole time, just wrote everything in first tense and didn't make the story book format.
I left episodes during that period of time so I could do it later.
So I could make movies about the period of time that mattered.
When it was almost over and we were working towards college, when I was working my way to Manhattan, to art school and girls that didn't make me deep down wanna strangle their parents; that's when it mattered.
This is important to write about, for me (and not so much for my sales) because I really made it seem like I gave a shit about the suburbs. I used words that people probably feel akin to and made a fairy tale that in real life I hated in a place black and empty (I couldn't go there if I tried).
In the real life version of that story I wanted to end that shit, crush up the relationship and date the girls I actually liked; it usually had to do with music and in truth only mattered with Velouria. Had she existed before, earlier on; everything would synced.
The real story involves family problems, my disdain for my father and a clinging to a girl because of that. It involved the mistake of sitting around and waiting for a shitty period of time to be over simply because it was a shitty period of time instead of getting up wounded and dealing with shit.
Getting up and saying 'look I don't even fucking love you, like you nor know what the fuck you're talking about'.
It's a valuable lesson.
I started it as a sequel for my character in the series. It was apart of the 'Fairfield, Connecticut' novel.
Maybe it won't end for myself until I write the real diaries of that character.
Perhaps I can close the chapter for myself in re-reading these books I hate and reflecting upon each chapter as what REALLY happened in god-mode writing or 1st person.
Perhaps I should write it from after Mike escapes Fairfield, Connecticut.
After he escapes the state of Connecticut.
I don't know who reads this blog and I'm being way too honest I suppose but it makes me feel better on the matter.
I hate the fact of having to go BACK to Connecticut again.
I look forward to the day it's REALLY over.
I suppose that sort of reality comes with finishing the series.
I won't have time for this sort of thing once I finish school and work for some production house in Manhattan or do music videos slash whatever one does post S.V.A. in N.Y.C.
Although I do also have grad school plans.
I avoided Connecticut for such a mass of time. I hate going back. Everytime I leave the island my stomach cringes. I see those fucking signs and hear the Metro-North train, the trees reappear: disturbance holds true.
I'm not a fan of nature. The trees and the whole fucking thing, I hate it.
Leaving home, beautiful cab honk with flowers (thanks bloomy) plus amazing hipster girls central park hells kitchen roof leading to walks along hudson river: ehh. For Connecticut.
I have so much hate for Connecticut; it's worth the novel idea. To do justice for my character.
To do justice for how much I hate those novels. When I'm 15 and I'm anti-smoking and all this shit and I bitch about everything. Looking back as a smoker and getting over the phase of pretending I was against drugs. Trading the pretentious straight edge character early on in the episodes.
I feel like that shows over. Apparently not until I make this fucking movie.
So I do it for art school.
And I suffer in going to Connecticut. Because I'm doing it in a place I'd rather burn than film.
But it's art and it used to mean something.
So if this is the future and you're looking back on this wondering what inspired your beloved movie don't contact me if you're from Connecticut unless your moving to N.Y.C. and an art school girl (or some version of said).
Tim is your hero. He'll have kids there or has one. I'm never having children. I'm getting a vasectomy to assure that. This is how much I hate children.
But Tim will care about your town, probably live there after this is done and if Connecticut ever comes looking for a hero please for the love of God make it Tim.
I'm not your hero. I go to art school and live in N.Y.C. hence such people ARE my people.
I don't like the place of Connecticut I'll just be doing art work there.
Because my friendship with Tim means more to me than my dark acid-piss feelings towards Connecticut.
Hopefully you are reading this from the future and it is a big success. In which case (hell even if the fucker fails) I'll be in Manhattan. Frequently in Brooklyn. Don't come looking for me unless you live here and like good music.
As soon as I'm done with this shit I'm done with Connecticut.
Then I can continue working on art depicting a place I love.
Incase you're fucking stupid I'm referring to New York City.
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