happy workers

anyone remember the subtle creepiness of that song from the Robin Williams fronted semi-flop "Toys"?

{NOTE: Don't go watch his new semi-flop "Man of The Year" - it blows}

I do, though.

After working what I will consider a 70 hour week (give or take 5), I'm coming to more "adult" ends. Despite getting a raise, I can still start to feel a little low about my status as an office worker of the technology age...albeit in the creative vein....office worker none the less.
Maybe it's the chronic headache and dizziness I've had for over two weeks now, or that I haven't had time to write anything recently (whether it be a blog or script or an extended idea)...but I feel like I'm dying. Or rather, I'm cognizant of the fact that I'm dying, chronically....and im looking at what I'm doing now (spending 70 hours within 5 days in front of a (really nice) macintosh), I feel a malaise of a kind.

Im doing exactly what I want, but I'm not feeling exactly how I want to feel about it. But I understood the rules of production and post production after my 3rd year in college, and I signed that contract/marriage with a metaphorical and fictional pen with gold ink (not dissimilar to the one Ariel uses in the Little Mermaid to attain legs, which are nice). I'm too cross with mental exhaustion to assess the many reasons why exactly...I just know its found a place in my mind or body or heart, and decided to feast...similar to that horror movie Feast.

My first (and only) guess would be the consequences of career choices in general. The consequences with doing something with your life...
My list of friends in life continues to dwindle as we all find ourselves coming to new paths and sprinting into them....unable to hear eachother with more and more distance being created between us....even with facebook and myspace setting up tin can phones....
I have a hard time making new friends....and at 23...I just don't feel the drive...not that I ever really did. It can be disheartening...the realization that friendship as you get older becomes an endurance test...and most fail...and some dont. I, as well as most (maybe), like to think I give it my all, but im sure my friends dont think so...as age and experience seems to make you more critical, and the accelertion of time, disallows the mending of heart breaking mistakes.....
this type of thinking will probably get worse as i exit my early twenties and make a step toward my mid-20s.

Isn't amazing how I can bitch about any situation in my life?

I regret nothing...and everything...you will have to ask me which when I am in different moods with different people, with different drugs, with different music.


the new beck is OK.