I'm trying to decide whether Grant Cogswell's narrative of self-destruction from the making of his film Cthulhu is a riveting account of one man's descent into madness, or a self-indulgent pile of crap. I'm favoring the latter interpretation.
Ya know, we're all human. We all have our flaws. But it's one thing to be broken and injured; it's another to pick at your sores until they bleed. Pull yourself together, dude. Perhaps if you could manage to focus on a single relationship for more than 20 minutes at a stretch, you wouldn't be so lonely.