Go home, Meagan

Wow. The last few weeks have been pretty crazy. I think I've drank every day, and I don't feel bad about it, for the most part. I've had a lot of fun, with a lot of different people... But I've also lost my car, my 35mm camera and I'm more broke than I have ever been. I'm barely going to make it home with what I have, and people keep asking for trade shoots, instead of wanting to pay me, which really bums me out. I love working with people I want to work with, I love modeling, I love photography and being a part of it from both ends of the camera... but I need to make money, and it doesn't seem to be happening. I'm sick of searching people out, of playing the money game... So the only option left to do is break down, go home to my grandmother's and get a couple shitty jobs and work that way. The right way, I guess. I suppose it was too much to think that this could be somewhat easy, and a hell of a lot more fun. But I've had my fun, and it's time to go home.

I've been crying a lot today, for many different reasons. I have a lot to say, but my platform seems lost to me, at the moment. I have a typewriter finally, but not I don't have the money to develop my film when I get home. I wish I had my car still, I feel really lost without it.

Why does misery bring so much inspiration? I'd rather be happy and inspired, but I don't know if I've ever been happy. I feel truly insatiable.