I Can't Tell Anymore

I honestly have no idea if celebrities or nascent celebrities are just blatantly fucking with the general public at this point.

Last night, I had to process Twitter photos of Tyler, the Creator, rapper/producer/filmmaker on the up-and-up whose main claim to fame was a lot of gross imagery and lines about rape in his songs*, chilling with Justin Bieber on a tour bus and being legitimately excited about that. If that was all, I probably would have thought about something smart to write today about being young and recognized for hard work and artistic risk and junk.

But then that whole Charlie Sheen tirade had to derail that idea. How does that guy manage to say that many crazy words together with a straight face? My brother tried to explain it to me, something about drugs and lack of a superego or something, which probably would've made sense, but I just couldn't process things anymore.

And what sucks is that if I expressed this concern to Sheen himself, he'd just call me a loser that can't comprehend how awesome his life has been.

And you know what? That's an infallible argument. I don't have that money or freedom of lifestyle and choice of words. I probably never will.

And in my mind, that's fine, because I don't want to be like that guy. But maybe that means I really am just a loser.

Probably not, but I'm putting way too much halfhearted thought into this. I think this Friday has short-circuited my brain's ability to apply intricate thought to anything. I'm only good at Minesweeper for the rest of this week.

I think I'm going to watch Hall Pass.

*Which honestly shouldn't have been his claim to fame; it should have been that he is an artistic polymath that does basically everything with a high level of quality. Lines about rape in his raps are probably the least interesting thing about him, honestly.