I’m a bit perplexed here with this Playboy offer. I’m frustrated about so much, but I’m more angry about why I’m frustrated with myself, which is a bit of a downward spiral. I am angry because I don’t even know what I want in life. It feels as though there are quite a few things at my fingertips, but now that someone is actually asking me what I want to do if I can do anything, I’m realizing that I have no idea what it is that I want to do. There is a difference between living a dream and living a reality. Being a talented and successful singer is about busting your ass on the road and in studios and fucking working really damn hard just to gain a life that only looks like a dream, but is actually an enslavement within the minority of celebrities. There would be no normal, comfortable life. I have to know what it is I want, but I don’t even fucking know, and that makes me feel pathetic and worthless. Most people would die for the opportunities that are being presented to me, but here I am like as asshole too fucking scared of the world to face it. I realize how much I love my small ponds.

However, this wraps around to my first point: I don’t even know what the fuck I want AS a career, so I don’t see how Playboy can propel me into some shit when I don’t even know what I’m looking for. “Your phone will be ringing off the hook with offers,” Darren Mann says to me. Offers for fucking what? Offers to do shit that I never really thought of doing anyway because I never really wanted it? What the fuck am I busting my butt to become? I’m so fucking directionless it makes me sick. I feel like I’m good for nothing. I would love to host some kind of show, but what fucking show? A show on WHAT? I don’t know anything going on in the world. I know nothing about politics or the government, and I’m not too keen on history. I don’t even know that much about ANYONE in the music industry. I don’t know half the fucking names of people. I could never interview celebrities because I don’t know SHIT about them. I don’t know what to ask them except for shit on a personal level. The ONLY thing I know ANYTHING about is myself. Real World was perfect for that because that’s all I had to do: live my life, make friends, speak my mind. Now what? Nothing. Darren can put me on Craig Kilborn. What the FUCK could I talk about? What if he does 5 questions? I’m stupid, I NEVER know those answers and then I’m a fucking idiot in front of the world. I’m so upset. I just want to hide. I should do what I do best: maybe I should just fucking sing. I have a beautiful voice and NO one fucking sounds like me out there. I have an old, mature sound. Not a crazy belt, not an enormous range, I just have a beautiful voice. So what do I do with it? Where do I go next?

I’ve had a strange day. I’m not sure what to make of it. It felt unbelievably bizarre. I felt like my heart was racing. I felt nervous, but really nervous, like I was having trouble breathing. I felt scared all day, really fucking scared like the whole world was changing and I couldn’t see it happening. All I could do is feel a new and terrifying world.

I felt very lonely today, but not the kind of loneliness I’m used to feeling. Sometimes when I feel lonely, it’s like that sad feeling that no one understands me. Today, it was like no one even existed. Even when I saw people, even when I did things, had conversations, interacted with others, it felt more like a dream. It felt like an illusion. I fell into another dimension today, and it’s been a while since I’ve left my regular dimension. I’m not sure what’s going on. Today I’ve been offered things I used to dream about. Now, I feel like curling into a ball and pretending like nothing has ever happened to me. I don’t know what my fate is, I don’t know what I should do. I don’t think I want to do Playboy anymore. Something feels scary about it.