At the end of the day...

Mine is, unfortunately, a business of concessions, both moral and physical. No matter how many people you talk to about Hollywood, and no matter how often you visit, nothing prepares you for the sheer lunacy and oppression of this place until you live here.

However, parallel with your shock is your desire to succeed despite knowing just how dirty the rat race is. I can't say that the slimy people I've met or the lewd propositions I've heard have crushed my dreams at all. But I don't make that claim as if it were laudable. On the contrary, how do you justify loving a business that thrives on the destruction of other people?

Perhaps, for me, it's because I love a good game, and that's exactly what acting in Los Angeles is. Hollywood, Beverly Hills, the film industry, celebrities...none of that is reality. At the end of the day, I can't consider what I do to survive in this business as the real me. When I head home, I leave the work-me back in the cess pool of broken dreams and vague promises.

My cynicism and calculated distance from other people have helped me keep a cool head out here. But I worry that in five years from now, when I'm still pursuing this dream, I'll discover that not only was it in vein, but that it can corrupt even the most determined and level-headed of dreamers.