I been meaning to plop down an entry in here sometime in the last two weeks, but it’s been the picture of hectic in my life. Poor excuse for ignoring your creative jones, i know, but it’s the one im going to use at the moment. It’s the same one i've been using for two years straight. This time though, something has come of my temporary mental hiatus.

I got a new job.

I don’t even know what to do with myself. I’ve been with OfficeMax for 2 years, and the last full year has been hell on earth for me. (Edit: I guess im not supposed to name names, when talking about a company i work for...but hell what are they going to do? Fire Me? BWAHAHAHHA!) Honestly i probably should have left long ago, but everything that happens couldn’t have happened any other way, and there’s a reason for that. At least my threshold for bullshit has increased at least double, working in such a pit of despair. There’s very little in a work environment that can affect me after feeling the way I’ve felt about this life sentence... i mean job.

I found it quite difficult to contain the glee on my face, when i handed in my notice of resignation. It’s one of those things where you try to look all somber, and reserved, knowing you’re doing naked handstands with the wind blowing through your nether-regions in your head. My manager on the other hand, didn’t seem to share my same sense of complete elation. He shoulda saw it coming. You can only use someone for so long before they decide to break the fuck out, and though it probably took me far too long, im making my escape. In fact i gave that place more of me than i ever intended to. I gave up most of my soul in the pursuit of a bigger paycheck. My writing has come to a standstill on more than one occasion, just because i didn’t have time in between shifts, nor did i have the energy to think about what it was i needed to say.

I want to make movies. I don’t want to act, because i can’t, at least not in a way that would result in me getting any part whatsoever. I want to MAKE them. I want to, do all the cuts, edits, effects and general fanciness that Joe Filmgoer doesn’t think about when he’s watching the latest Ben Affleck thriller. I’ve actually been into this for a long time, but i never said anything, because i figured i was just being ridiculous, and mostly because i didn’t know what the fuck i was doing, or so i thought. One of my personalities told me once "You can’t do everything yo. You either going to write, or you going to make movies, or you going to flip burgers, but you cant do it all..." But I've found in the last few weeks, this just comes natural to me. Natural like writing did, the first time i spit out an award winning essay (seriously, the trophy is in front of me on my desk) on my first try in 6th grade. Natural like spittin a verse at the 9th grade lunch table, though I’ve since lost the passion for that aspect of my life. The idea of making motion pictures does something to me that most things cant. It makes me passionate. It makes me want to stay up at the wee hours of the night, trying to figure out the right timing for this cut, or the exact second where the music should fade in.

I want to write. Stories, screenplays, poems, news stories, WHATEVER. Give me a pen and a pad. Actually give me a laptop and a keyboard cause writing makes my fingers cramp, but either way...I love it. With all my heart, and im sorry that i denied her. I left her out in the cold, when she needed me the most. I didn’t feel like getting up to answer the door. I just put the pillow over my head and pretended i didn’t hear her knocking. I didn’t answer the phone when she called me. I was too tired to talk, but i see i was wrong, and im sorry. Creativity, i promise ill never leave you again, as long as you promise never to leave me.

Creative process makes me feel alive. If i don’t express, im dead to the world.

Thus my point...

OfficeMax reduced me to being a zombie, unable to think about anything other than when my next shift is, and how much a three year replacement plan on a computer system costs. After so long, i ceased to be Christopher, and became "Sales Drone No.14" Im going to make a movie about this one day. Of course i have to add some things for dramatic effect, but anyone that knows me, knows im one hell of a story teller.

(In fact, ask me about the Taco Bell story one day...or ask someone who was around three and a half years ago...)

Leaving that place is like getting out of prison early for me. Now on the horizon, is my last day on Saturday, a couple days of drunken debauchery, then a trip to NY on Tuesday or Wednesday, to celebrate youknowwhos birthday, and celebrate i will. Double celebration is in order, 1 for my girl taking one more year towards the greatness i know she’s going to achieve, and 1 for me finally breaking out of these chains. Not just the ones directly from the job, but the self-imposed mental prison i let myself into. Here’s to never again neglecting my dreams. Here’s to making movies, writing books, and enjoying the little things.

Cheers.