Tomorrow is Part Two of my MV

Tomorrow is part two of my music video. The first half was shot underwater but tomorrow will be the dance scene. I’m going to be very careful tomorrow because the last thing I want is a sprang ankle, cut or bruise. We only have one body, and I’m going to be gentle with mine.
I got all my costumes, footwear and accessories together before tomorrow. I know the song like the back of my hand, so singing the lyrics will be a breeze. I can’t wait to perform it.
People annoy me though. For example, I text and emailed the behind the scenes videographer for confirmation. He ignored every message, but when my dad called he THEN he confirmed. That’s right folks…I still call my dad to handle chumps at my age of 38. I don’t have a strong man in my life except for my Pops. He may be old, but he still has a lot of life left in him that still pumps that Marine steel, blood.
I looked in the mirror today. Just briefly to study my facial expressions. I still look young but when I take pictures I see fine lines. I’m going to do something about them soon. Maybe start using my gadgets I have at home and incorporate more beauty treatments such as radio frequency. I also want to do Pilates. All that costs like an extra $700-$1500 a month. I can’t afford that yet. I wish I could though.
I thought about what I said yesterday about marrying Shervin. I didn’t mean it. Although he helps me a little, it barely scratches the surface of things I need. Getting me Starbucks and gas is not like paying my rent or bills. I still intend on buy him a classic car though. As my “thank you” for being there for me.
That’s if my dreams even become a reality. I really don’t know how my life will pan out. The words of my old therapist still waver in my head. She thought I was delusional and lived in a fantasy world. But she also was a mean bitch, so why should I think twice about what she says.
My therapist now is a Puerto Rican woman whose in her late fifties. She’s really weird because she lets her dog lick her in the mouth during our therapy sessions via Zoom. Her dog’s name is Chica, and it’s a miniature schnauzer.
My therapist and I got into an tift today. This woman kept going on and on about commercial work. I told her about my upcoming agent meeting that is possibly interested in repping me. I don’t like discussing the industry with her because I feel like I have to do a lot of explaining. I much rather work on my inner thoughts and processing my emotions. I’m not there to teach her about the entertainment industry. She always refer to me as a “possible future celebrity”. She literally says that. “Well I might be talking to a possible celebrity in the future”, she often says. I rather she just doesn’t say those comments at all.
I’m annoyed right now and not sure why(maybe because I just brought up two therapists that annoy me). I guess it’s because I’m uncertain about my future. My dad told me to only focus on what I can control. What I can control is giving my all for this music video tomorrow. I can control making sure I get eight hours of sleep tonight. I can control what I eat in the morning to not look bloated. I can control the time I arrive on set by leaving early. I can control my mindset by meditating and stretching in the morning. These are the things I can control. But ultimately, God is in control.
God, I used to mad at God. I’d scream and say aloud, “You have your favorites!” Especially when I shared a roach infested apartment with my janitor roommate.
But during that time, I smoked weed relentlessly. I had sex, and didn’t care about treating my body like a temple. I popped plan B pills like tic tacs. I shoplifted from Walmart all of the time. I sped on the freeway and would have multiple hit and runs. I would drink until I was drunk, and I didn’t care about consequences.
But I definitely dealt with the consequences. I went to jail in three different states for shoplifting. I wrecked several cars. And I got raped multiple times and had multiple abortions.
I think my greatest sin was when I played with my life and stuck a needle in my arm. I still have the recording on my phone when I was high on meth. The person injecting me took all of my belongings and stole my credit identity, and to this day, my credit has to be on freeze at all times. I have so many miscellaneous bills under my name.
But how can you honestly measure sin? Sin is sin. All I can do now is learn from my mistakes and not repeat them. I’m not saying I’m a saint, but I don’t do anything wrong now. I don’t have sex, I don’t drink or do drugs, I don’t steal, I rarely ever speed, and I try my best to live a holy life.
The only thing I’m doing wrong is pretending to be Shervin’s girlfriend. But at least I am loyal and I don’t cheat. I know I make him happy. I let him kiss my hand even though I say “eww” in my head every time. He’s my best friend. But I better dare not ever say that to him. He never wants to be a friend. He says I’m his “future wife”.
Some may say it may be a disservice to pretend to be his girlfriend. I say you don’t know me and him. No one understands him like I do and vice versa.
After Covid, he didn’t work and lived off his family. He never left his apartment except to buy hot dogs, Doritos and soda. He gained some weight too(but lost it as soon as I came around). Whenever I’m around him, I inspired him to work and get dressed. I filled out his first job application when he was only 22, and he’s been working the same job ever since. I got him his job back after Covid too. Of course he doesn’t know this. I secretly called the general manager and begged for his job back. I literally did the whole, “Steve Urkel to Stefan Urquelle” with him. And you know what kills me is how I know some bitch is going to want to steal him from me one day. She will want him for all the wrong reasons, but by then, I have to let him go. A catch and release sort of speak.
But back to my music video, more than an hour has passed already. I should get some rest. I made some tea and have melatonin gummies by my bedside. My nightmares no longer happen anymore since I’m home in my own bed. I think the weed is completely out my system now. It’s been one month and twelve days. Only two more months until my birthday.
I may not have everything I want but at least I have awesome parents. At least I have clear skin, long hair, pretty teeth, and a banging body. At least I have a car that runs well and my own place. At least I have cool clothes, shoes, and accessories. At least I have my health. At least I have a gym membership. At least I have the ability to act and perform and write songs. At least I know how to work with others and not be seen as some tyrant. At least I have a little bit of money that I use towards my career. And, at least I have Shervin. At least I got this bed to sleep in. And by the way, I had the most fabulous salmon bagel & goat cheese sandwich with homemade chips. At least, I was blessed with a wonderful meal today. I may not have my dreams yet but I am very grateful. I may not be able to afford Chanel perfume yet but at least my ass smells like Irish Spring. That’s good enough for now, but I’ll always aspire for more. I won’t quit until my dreams come true.

“Jesus, please help those reading this find things to be grateful for. Help us with a positive mindset. Grant us good health, protection, peace, strength, wisdom, and surround us with your love. Let us feel you like the wind and guide us in the right direction. Amen”

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