Sunday, May 13, 2007

I'm Tired

Ach, the white screen. I am wont to maximize the text editor on my Mac (which looks really good in the Gelaskin I got) to see the white space take up the entire page. And like the song, Most of the Time, the white spaces speak volumes beyond the written.


I like how the cursor waits patiently for me to write, rather an egotistic flight of fancy that it's an eager ear, not going away any where, waiting for me to speak. Of course, a patient yet mute listener I suppose. But then again, the only other person in this conversation is me. And I can speak volumes.

--Your Love is not Enough, Manic Street Preachers --

Right now I am so tired that I am wide awake and everything seems more conscious than before. I am prone to moods, not the kinds that linger for a few hours but weeks. SB mentioned how I tend to disappear for a while, come back as though I never left. I suppose I need to hit the reset button once in a while. And I am doing it again with this burst of productivity. It's, and after a long time, testing of taut the wire is, how far I can run without crumbling, moaning. The Short One mentioned how I seemed to want to experience everything all the way, work and push myself, the gym until my legs can barely support me, party until the lights come on, music until it can be played, books until there are none left unopened. Fuck, even when I relax, I reeeeeeelaaaaax (cue the song Relax by Frankie Goes To Hollywood...okay inappropriate if you read the lyrics, I know but it fit so make like OJ's defense and run with it)
But hells bells, so much to do and so many experiences to run through before the time runs out. So much to see and feel and take in and ponder and .... perhaps I need to be.
There are few times I have felt like being, moments of happiness where I stumble upon it and never want to leave that moment, try and prolong it because those moments are so pure, rare and hard to find.

-- Don't Fear the Reaper, Blue Oyster Cult --
Seasons don't fear the reaper...ironic if you think about it given the subtext of what I just said

I was effing around with the guitar with Jimmy teaching me and I just ran through the new pieces, my own pace but faultless. And Jimmy and I had spoken about how very tired I was, to the point of being light headed and nauseous. But he said that I was always thinking so much, my eyes skipping to the next note, second guessing the one I just played, gauging how fast I was playing...but Friday was different. It's as though I knew I could play it and I just was. I wasn't worried about mistakes, about the tempo or chords, I just was.
See, it's that, amongst the many things that I am chasing. It's that singular moment when there is no other thought, me not stumbling, trying to articulate everything to myself, just being.
I guess that happens when I am exhausted at the gym, I can just hear my heart thumping, screaming in my head and there are no words, no thoughts, no arguments, nothing. And it's so blissful.

Look, this is coming from someone who goes to bed with an issue plaguing him and wakes up in the morning, eyes red, mentally exhausted but always with an answer. So I think in my sleep, sue me.

Same with booze I suppose, over indulging to silence my head. Phookofying
-- So Happy Together, The Turtles --
is different. It lets all these thoughts swim in but just as easily move right back out.

Music does that too. It goes with my mood and in that moment, I don't have to think, I just am. Those three or four minutes where everything comes together and needs no further articulation, expression or thought. It just Is.



So my mother sent me a message I haven't heard....in years. She said she was missing me. It *is* mother's day and all, I get it. But it's been a while since my Mum and I hanged out. She knows I've grown up far beyond needing her thoughts...but never past the point of wanting to speak with her and tell her how I'm doing, what's new with her, how everything is. Fuck she's the one who made me and I mean that way beyond carrying me for 9 months. Without her, I wouldn't be me. She's where I come form and I am so very thankful for that.

I think I should tell her that.


-- Dreams, The Cranberries --

My father sent me an email. I saw it while scrambling to get to my class. The last line read "Please read her CV and write a marriage proposal"
Meh??!
They are semi serious and have left it open to me but still, it's bizarre! Besides, I have what could be a good thing.
But we'll see, wont we?
;o)
(with a nod to the lady seated past the stage lights, there, first row, center stage)


I'm so very tired, I can't have more than one thought at a time. And right now, would be nice to have her here, I love this song...and sometimes being, like thoughts, is the perfect state of.

I'm tired, and I'd like to sleep now please.
(said the Actor to the Stage Manager, the one in the wings, the hard ass, egging him on...perhaps the Actor for once, knows better)

Ach...come lie with me to this song girl...you put it into my mind, and it's not leaving, not without
-- Daniel, Lior --
Step into a doorway in my mind
This is where you live
It's where you live
I forgot the things that I could find
I have not been in here for years

Oh come now, you must know what I want you to hear.

Goddamnit, comenownownownow....I want to talk to you! I want to tell you everything that drives me crazy and listen to you, watch you watch something, anything, just come here....don't you see how frustrated I get, how angry I get at things that can't even be articulated yet must be blamed, can't you see me listening to the music you want me to hear, the movies you tell me I love, it's not done, it's not complete, come here and talk to me, let me listen to you, let me climb in through that door you still haven't opened to me, l...

(A la comic style, the Stage Manager reached out with a long staff, hooks it around the raving Actors neck and yanks him into the wings)

No comments: