ericboy's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Four Day Fatigue "I'll never have wanted... to not have what we went through" - onelinedrawing, Um... I'm settled in at Lestat's with a cup of coffee and four days worth of hours packed under my eyes. I just read Jeff's e-mails to me and he is suffering horribly. It's peculiar in that several people have told me that my action of just picking up and moving them has inspired them to take more action in their lives and made them better while others suffer alone and unconsoled. I can't bear to think of him, sitting alone in his room at the close of the day, rocking back and forth on the foot of the bed in a fit of rage, watching; waiting for something, anything, to give him the order to DESTROY! There were many who prophesized such a future existence for me, but I showed them all what life can be, and now the sages of injustice don't bother me anymore. Not to say that I'm completely without worry; that would be presumptious, and Zen has a way of humbling the presumptious, I know. The first line in this entry should be revelatory enough to portray that I feel a great uneasiness and emptiness corroding my insides at this very moment. I think it's partly to do with the show. It premiered Friday without a (noticeable) hitch and was well-received. I greeted strangers who shook my hand and genuinely praised me for "moving" them. After this brief moment of elation and success, my life returned to its former incarnation of failure and stagnation. I can't live like this. To be shown Heaven and then have the door slammed in your face. I find myself counting the hours until the next showtime so that I can feel my self-worth again. Not to play the role of the humble and modest artist, but I really don't see what the big deal is about my performance. People have praised me and revered me and a few have used the word "genius". I just don't see it. Not that I'm not proud of what I'm doing, but I share the stage with two poets who see the world with eyes that are beyond me and two dancers who perform a piece that transcends my understanding. I just preach and egocentrically expostulate on my loneliness and agitation at my stagnant economical status. That's no cause for praise! My emptiness and loneliness are swelling to some sort of cresting peak as of recently and I fear that I need a release of some sort. In this category, no activity will fill the hole, no matter how important it may feel, but the comfort and company of a woman. It's been too long and the kryptonite of solitude is wearing me down. I haven't slept in the last four days and I don't know why I'm awake now, but I am. I met a BEAUTIFUL woman Thursday night who wants nothing to do with a guy like me that tickled my fancy in a grand way. I hope that some day I will see her again. My eyes have ceased to function in accordance with my expectations. Sadness. She shivers in the hallway and holds the only friend she's ever had She's so fucking tired of losing and all her dreams were swallowed by the past. All her friends come in bottles and they party every might 'til well past Dawn. So it came as no suprise to those who knew her when she silently passed on. I'm so exhausted and my eyes have closed themselves several time since I began, so adios! 3:10 a.m. - 2003-03-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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