4

As I walked along, everything subtly changed. The wind would suddenly stop blowing, or a tree would be there but then there would still be a tree there but not the same kind or where there was a walking path now was a 8 lane interstate highway system or someone you knew had a certain shade color of eyes but now didn't. All of this happened as I walked by because it sure as shit didn't change while I was staring right at the goddamn thing.

The people that hated you yesterday love you today and the people who never bothered to give you the time of day now want your autograph. I was lucky because, since my life's story from birth until death had already been published twice, I could enjoy having some poor schmuck walk around with me and tell when I'm going to fuck up and when I'm going to fuck up even worse knowing I'm going to fuck up in the first place. I found myself waiting to fall asleep so I could use that time to adjust who I am just so I can only hope to mean something to something in this world, when in fact all I got was the same caliber of persons telling me they were doing the same gig, and the only problem they could figure out so far is that AOL Instant Messenger doesn't allow for a contact list that large, so that's why we're doomed to walk around thinking we're not alone but we can't confirm that due to the restriction.

It was partly my fault due to my ego. Every morning I'd wake up and immediately pick up a copy of the script, race to the bathroom, and then count have many lines I was written for compared to the other co-stars. On the days I didn't get the most lines, I'd make it a point to go up to the other people and tell them shit along the lines of, "I'm going to help make this scene work! We can do it!". On the days I did get the most, I'd paraphrase what was written just to give the director a hard time because she worked so hard on it.

And THAT was just this morning.