What lives are these?
These Holy fools. These
Degenerates.
I started the process of quitting my job yesterday- told everyone about the new job, told them I intended to leave in 2 weeks. I told everyone but the boss. He never entered the office and it seemed like the kind of thing one says in person, not on the phone.
Who bore them? Who
Made them? These
Degenerates.
I'm afraid the boss will be spiteful and fire me on the spot- tell me I'll never work in Hollywood again... or another cliche. Then again, I doubt I will find a job that pays so little with such great demands and so few upsides. Or if I do, I doubt I'll take it.
What lives are these-
We quietly lead? Who
Breaks free? Who is
Desparate? Who knows
These degenerates?
D__ once told me that having a development job was like having an identity in the world of film. But what identity? There is no working up to being a writer. There is only writing and not writing. It has always been this way. I learned it is still this way since the last time I checked.
What lives are these? These
Holy fools. These
Degenerates.
