We all wanna be big, big stars, yeah, but we got different reasons for that

My parents were very cruel people.

My father was a violent alcoholic, and my mother drugged me with fairy tales and love.

Nowadays I can't decide which one of them I hate more.

We all want someone to blame for the way we are.

I am pathetic. Sitting here with a quarter-finished monologue for the Beg Borrow and Steal project and a nowhere-near-finished full-length play on my screen, knowing they need to be done, but just sitting here, staring. And yet I feel like I'm being productive. It's a writer thing.

I'm not normal. Saturday I went to a friend's 21st and found myself having to fight the urge to get out my notebook and just sit there writing for the whole night. It could have been worse... I've been known to have my notebook on my lap, even on the dancefloor. Single? Why, yes, I am.

I am happy. Sometimes being stuck in between those two people: the extrovert and the quiet thinker is literally painful, but in the end I like being me and I can't be anyone else anyway, right?

I'm indecisive. The minute you leave me alone in peace with my thoughts, suddenly I want to go clubbing and vice versa. 

But somehow I get by. And that's the best anyone can hope for in the end, isn't it?

We all want someone to blame for the way we are,

but the lucky ones also want someone to thank.