I’m obsessed with becoming famous.

I have this daydream going in my head of being a star.

I think of everything, and for some reason, I lust after that life. I have stories about concerts,

merchandise,

television interviews

…stalkers,

murder,

drug addiction,

love,

meeting other “famous” people, doing fantastic things. I think i’m crazy. I don’t know, I want to be this crappy persona i’ve invented.

I want the fame, the glory, the controversy, the hecticness, everything.

I want to be the young singer/songwriter, actress, writer, whatever imagined part of “myself” I feel like.

It’s getting so hard and annoying — I can’t help thinking about another day of the horrible food my band’s eating on a tour,

I can’t help but think of what i’d say in an interview or a DVD commentary, I can’t help looking at the faces of the crazed fans.

It’s hopeless. It’s stupid. But I want it, and I want it bad. I don’t know if I’d ever have a chance. I _don’t_ know why I want it. I’ve got no future…what am I thinking? What am I making up here?
















































