May 20, 2007 22:15
I think that whenever I undertake a massive scale creative process, I act like it's my swan song even though in all actuality I have no intention of it being that way. The physiological response to this mentality, however, is very real. Today I began work on my newest play, which is going to be very therapeutic once it's finished, and all day I've been experiencing depression, nausea, disorientation and complete and total exhaustion. Maybe I've been pushing myself too hard. Nothing makes sense anymore, so I work hard as a distraction. I should try to live a little and face shit instead of forcing myself to ignore it. Yeah, I can be volatile when faced with some shit like that, but I'll have to face it eventually.
I am presently enjoying a hardcore cd that my homeboy eric howe burnt for me. Homie, if you're reading this, I dig the tunes.
In terms of trivial distraction, I've been thinking about Sylvester Stallone's credibility as an actor lately. The first Rocky was a masterpiece in my opinion, and First Blood (the first Rambo film) was actually a very good movie, with an excellent, hungry performance by Stallone. I hated Rocky Balboa, and I only appreciate Rocky III through V because they are so ridiculous. The Rambo franchise went through a similarly ridiculous evolution. What started as an only slightly hollywoodicized story about a mistreated, understandably angry Vietnam vet turned into a summer blockbuster franchise, thus nixing almost all of its credibility. I feel like he could have made a statement and instead he cheated himself out of it. Rocky Balboa was a steamy piece of shit, and now he's making "JOHN RAMBO," the fourth installment of the Rambo series, and I just think it's a bad idea. Stop it, Sly, or my mom will shoot.
And that's as close to a celebrity tabloid piece as I will ever get.