New York is a beast of a city. Maybe its that I ride a bike, but i truly never feel like i’ve worked so hard in my entire life than I have in the past 3 days. Im exhausted, but exhilarated. I have found a new job! A rinky dink music venue, but a job nonetheless. Theres a quiet in the air today, from the rain i suppose, the drizzle really, and it gives me pause. a moment of reflection to ponder on just what the fuck is happening in my life. what do i want to happen? I spoke to my mother yesterday, feeling a bit confused about love, and she seems to think i don’t even know myself, as far as love is concerned, and i have to agree with her. What she said was the equivalent to shining a light under the bed, i hadn’t realized that my favorite missing shirt was under there, or just how much dust had accumulated. That was a bad analogy, but the point is, i needed to completely reevaluate who i am. To be honest..i want a career above all else. to be honest…i want a man i am head over heels in love with. to be honest…i want a lil babe someday..maybe soon. to be honest..i need someone to laugh with. But you know, thinking of the future is frightening. I can imagine all pretty pink clouds and unicorns and rainbows, but the truth is, i don’t know whats ahead for me. Maybe my wildest dreams will come true. Maybe they wont. Maybe my wildest nightmares will come true. maybe they wont. Do ray me that brings me back to right here right now. Things are good. They are not how id have liked them to be OF COURSE! But things are on the right track at the very least. Baby steps. God how i wish they were God baby steps i.e. leaps and bounds. But baby steps for now is good. Baby. steps.
When life happens. It happens hard and fast. like a bird flying and running smack dab into a window pane. never. saw. it. coming. i got fired from my job two days ago. i got fired from my job two days ago because i didnt fit in. “nothing personal” she said. I’d been with the company for six months, but now, NOW, 6 months later, I dont fit in. Like, level with me, do i have a bad attitude? a stink eye? am i too ditzy? too meloncholy? do i lack an actual passion for my job? or maybe i look bored? but despite my attempts at gaining a reason i was given a few elipses and a “you just dont fit in.” Which brings me to question my sense of belonging, anywhere. I have, my whole life, felt out of place. I remember being invited to my best friend and next door neighbors birthday party, but she was in like, 8th grade and I was in like, 4th. We were not in the same school, i remember that much, which is to say, i was much younger. So here I am, stuffed animal in tow, ready for the sleepover and its like these young adults and a child. Fast forward through all of school, which is like a given that im not going to feel like i fit in, into adulthood. Pretty much every job Ive ever had, I can remember this longing of wanting to belong. A longing like out of that movie, Empire Records, where all the outcasts fit in and are cool because they belong. Where the hell is my Empire Records? But what is it about myself that I get this sense? Surely its something Ive created. I think, maybe its because im the baby of the family, and my older brothers and sister definately did not want me around, so i spent alot of time reading and imagining. I tried today to feel a sense of belonging in my acting class, because if not there, where can i feel like I belong? And i began to feel an inkling, but 2 hours later, there it was again, this complete lack of knowing what to say to my peers. He said he was hungry, so i gave him my nut bar and walked away, like i was angry almost. She offered me a bagel and I accepted, then turned away not knowing what to talk about. I MEAN WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME!?!? I might as well live in Africa.
i have let my work take me over. There’s so much work to be done. So I read plays endlessly. And talk about plays and talk about writing and which books to read next . It’s lovely how the tiniest touch, a whisper, of a touch, a millimeter exchange of skin, can become so effective, so monumental, so gigantic in the mind. Ah and the feeling of skin on skin, cheek on cheek. It keeps me singing. I’ve realized I’m not someone who likes to play it safe, I’d rather risk it all, which is frightening, but filled with heartbreaking satisfaction in the end. To touch. To risk. To love.
ive worked tirelessly the past two weeks for 5 minutes Tommorow morning. And I couldn’t be more excited to share the work ! To share what I love to do with people who love to do it is so exciting , a little intimidating, but mostly I just want to enjoy those 5 minutes. Followed by lunch & a Chinatown massage.
Can I rewrite history? Can I pretend all the bad shit didn’t happen? I want the happy ending but can I tell that story without the obligatory suffering that comes before it? I guess that’s only the stuff of fiction. That’s a dream world that never existed but in my mind.
Once upon a time… She was always happy and she got everything she wanted and her life was sequins & smiles. The end.
No, the truth, rough hewed as it is, is much better. Honesty is the best policy.
Once upon a time…
When she was very young her older siblings took advantage of her naivete and changed all of their lives forever. It was the 90s. The era when grunge and drugs were in vogue, I suppose. Drug abuse, sex, incest, suicide. The littlest of the kids, she was sent abroad, to be forgotten for a time. She was surrounded by everything foreign, all the way in the Middle East. While she struggled to understand the family secrets and growing up and death her worldview was being twisted and torn into new shapes unimaginable. Death seemed prevelant.
I’m a jumble of thoughts. I’m filled with need, desire, jealousy, anger, frustration, tenderness, love, longing, sadness. I am human after all. But trying to live peacefully in this muck and jumping hurdles after hurdles. I’d like a paved yellow brick road. But instead I’ve got roadblocks, potholes, traffic jams. I’d like things to happen like I feel they are happening for those around me and damn I work hard. I’m afraid it’s not hard enough, or I just don’t have that je ne sais qoui . I’m hard on myself. This I know. But I’ve got nothing! And I’m old! And if really like something good to happen, I don’t care how tiny and insignificant it may be. Oh god I forgot that everything & all things are those tiny insignificant things. I’m tired of dreaming & being positive. I want to actually live and be positive because finally I’ve achieved something! And let’s not get started on my obsessive materialistic addiction to fashion. Why? But then,who cares why if it makes you happy. I’m lost in my own head. How egotistical of me. Id like to be lost in work. Fuck I’m frustrated. On all fronts.
ch 2. peace by the light
the machines are at it again. filling the black sky with their echoing sounds. my stomach is in agony and the pain is never ending. the roaches have begun to accumulate and the sweet blonde next door is beginning to notice. bombs cant kill what ive got. they crawl through my sheets at night and i pay no mind, asleep in dreams. bugs. bugs. bugs.
is there anything so ambiguous as love
how do we describe that nasty bug
that crawl under our skin and nestles
in deep in the thick of our blood
infecting our veins
the rush of morphine to the brain on eyecontact
and too touch and too hold
but having lost that which i loved
can my heart sore and surge again?
or am i undone, purged, emptied, hallowed.