Dreamgirls

I may go to hell for this post, but I'll be posting it nonetheless. I just saw Dreamgirls, and I think I may have figured out what really happened to Jennifer Hudson's family. I'm afraid to just write it outright, but...well...Jennifer Hudson was amazing. She was an infinitely better actress than Beyonce, and can obviously blow her out of the water vocally (probably even in her sleep). Beyonce is clearly convinced that she's a star and has been trounced through the entire movie. Add that to the fact that Jennifer Hudson won the Oscar and Beyonce's with someone who is convinced he's a gangster and, well...do I really need to finish this sentence? Question: why is it that Jennifer Holliday won a Tony at her size, and Jennifer Hudson had to be smaller to win the Oscar? Ah, well. Good pipes is good pipes, sir.

Something...

I'm not sure why, but there's something inside of me that is constantly on the verge of breaking into tears. God, that sounds ridiculous. That feeling in the throat that happens just before you cry...that's always there. I don't know where it comes from or why it happens, but it keeps me from sleeping and it goes away when I write. I'd like it to go away when I sing, but it doesn't always. I'm not really sure why I'm even writing this right now. Maybe it comes from not knowing my mother's family very well. Maybe I'm crazy. Maybe there's something wrong with my fucking esophagus, I don't know.
I have quite a few friends I haven't seen in awhile, and thinking about that fucks me up too. I miss them. I feel like an awful person for not calling them, but I still don't do it. I just sit on my fucking bed and think about what an asshole I am. Do other people do that?!

This Is My First Post

So..uh...yeah. At first I thought that posting my thoughts like this would be a sort of conceited endeavour; I mean, who wants to read this shit? Am I an asshole for thinking someone would want to read this stuff? Then I had to think to myself "shut the fuck up and write." It just feels good. I don't care if anyone reads it, honestly. I'm doing this because keeping a longhand journal gives me cramps and I tend to think a little faster than I can write. I was listening to George Carlin's Class Clown a few days ago and, in the midst of my laughing, I started to cry hysterically. Class Clown was one of the first records I ever put on a turntable, and in the middle of his Father Rivera bit, I remembered that Carlin is dead and it just destroyed me. Is it ridiculous to let the death of someone who you've never met bother you that much? I don't know. I just know that he was a huge part of my life and the shaping of my humor and now he's gone. Life is fleeting.