sigh

I’m an over-thinker. It’s chronic.

Sometimes I wish God would reach down his hands, pluck me from Earth, and sit me down for a chit-chat. WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO BE DOING, BIG HOMIE? CAN YOU HELP? ITS ME! ITS JASMINE! I was told it was you who put me here. WHY, IN YOUR NAME, DID YOU DO THAT?!

But yeah, I’m confused. I seemingly have all the time in the world to dissect every, single moment and decipher what the hell I think they mean – electing motive into like, people crossing the street at certain times. Was that a sign? Is this a sign? Its exhausting.

My last month and a half have been extremely slow and way too fast. I’m sure I’ve typed that out before, but bear with me. I keep getting told it will pick up, but you guys, I haven’t been to a casting in weeks. Yesterday I found out I booked a job for this coming Saturday, but it seems ages away.

Simultaneously, the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show is annihilating my social media timelines (as well as my self esteem). I didn’t know my failures and insecurities could manifest themselves into a fashion show, but alas, thank you, Victoria’s Secret. My landlord will make me watch and she will commentate like Joan Rivers reincarnate.

Ed Razek, Victoria’s Secret’s biggest headman, reached out to me once. I don’t know if you guys remember this, but it gave me hope at the time. That hope has been crushed, the feet of way too many rejections stamping it down. Those bitches.

I have a running list of rejections. These were people and companies I would one day prove wrong, but a bitch is tiiiiiired, man.

A lot is out of my control. For an over-thinker, this is Hell.

My landlord’s dogs are barking right now and I want to punt them across the ocean. SHUT YOUR ASSES UP, CHILI AND PEPPER. MY SAD ASS IS TRYING TO WRITE.

Anyway, a lot is out of my control. Shit, I don’t even get retweets. I’m like the only person gassing myself lately. No hypeman. No dumb boy who will get out the passenger seat and pump this shit in the middle of winter. Just me. My hands bear the cold and the rejection and the nos and Twitter. The latter being the worst part of it all.

I don’t know where to go or what to do.

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