Love of jargon, inversely proportional to love of truth.

He hadn’t done an honest piece of work since his unexpected success in 1968. Ego, more destructive than drugs or booze.

Obituary
In the mid-eighties he appeared in a series of unnamed minor roles in second-tier John Hughes movies. His credit was always listed as “popped collar.”

Of how you spent the night, waking in the vestibule of a strange apartment building an hour before work, no memory remains. You call in sick for the seventh time in a month.
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You just need to rest. A day of healing and rest. Around midnight you find yourself in a Thai karaoke bar down the road from your sister’s house. You vaguely remember Norman Mailer writing that scotch is for people who’ve given up hope, and order one. Midway through your second, watching a stoned girl and her catatonic friend wander listlessly through I’m a Believer, you have your first panic attack.
You’ve always known you’re unremarkable. But now, on your day of healing and rest, curled up on the bathroom floor, you’re spectacular.

Let it go. The world doesn’t need another photograph.

Looking back, it’s clear that you were far more ridiculous than you realized at the time, and that the same is true today.

Number one problem facing humanity: irony.

With a year of hard work my project has grown from grandiose fantasy to lackluster reality.

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