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I'm supposed to write about my feelings here, but I don't even know what I am feeling! Am I worked up? Not really. Am I bothered? Yes, I guess I am. To what avail? None, I suppose. The world will not change a whit, and neither will we. It all seems so silly now. So trivial. So much ado about nothing. Someone stood me up for an hour. That's it. No explanation, no call to say he was going to be late. Just a call one hour and fifteen minutes later that began with a sheepish chuckle and ended with me putting down the phone on him. What was the big deal? The anticipation. The looking forward to something that is out of the ordinary from my usual Thursday after my shift. Maybe that's how boring things have gotten. So that when something is supposed to happen, and it doesn't, I overreact while trying my darndest not to. Meanwhile, HE probably doesn't know what to do. Is he even sorry, or apologetic? Does he even care? Why do I care so much? Is it any wonder I'd rather be a hermit and shun the world and its inhabitants? I know, I know. It's a very small thing. But they wear you down, and I am out of practice. And out of sorts. Goodnight.
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It's been never since I last used the Livejournal app on my iPhone. Since it's literally at my fingertips, I really should use it more often to capture random thoughts before they fly away to la la land. Well, that's one thought in the bag. Now for the other 12,417. Posted via LiveJournal.app. |
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I'm sure it's a choice, this solitude. But if it really were a choice, why tack "I'm sure" to the beginning of the sentence? I know how it goes. I'd be somewhere, glad to be there, having a good time, and then, suddenly, it would cease to be fun, cease to have meaning, and I couldn't wait to be out of there. Maybe it's an attention deficiency. There's a story ( I forget by who) about a man who became a priest because he couldn't take the vicissitudes of life. By taking the cloth, he was able not to form any personal relationships and thereby spare himself the pain that comes with such relationships. I can totally relate to that story, although my case is not as extreme. Of course, the man was only deluding himself. There is no way you can completely avoid contact. The people he tends to, and their joys and sorrows, afflict him still, although not to the degree that they might if they were his own joys and sorrows. What does it mean to be human, if not to be with another human? To communicate, to relate, to feel? As I told Sam, it is essential that I maintain this contact, however tenuous, if I intend to continue to be a singer, an actor or any kind of work that requires not only understanding of but EMPATHY WITH the human condition. My vague and faraway memories won't serve me forever. I need fresh emotion to course through my veins, fresh pain to prick my senses if I am to convey anything real, anything that is felt. And so, somehow, I must put myself out there, if only to expose myself to the disappointment that is life, and perhaps touch the possibility of joy.
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My mom would have said," But you didn't eat any rice today!" It's true my eating habits have become more irregular on its way to being more regular. Living by myself has its pros and cons. Freedom means having to make a lot of decisions for and by myself, with no one to sway or suggest. I pretty much eat when I'm hungry or when I feel I should. Working early weekday mornings have meant 2 or 3 meals by the time it's 2 o'clock in the afternoon. Who knows why I get so hungry when I wake up early. Hopefully, the fact that I try to get to bed early means that I don't eat that many suppers anymore. Dinner is 6 or 7 at the latest and that's usually my last meal for the day. Funny how those cravings for supper goes away so easily. Is it age? After the gym today, I ate half a bowl of soup and half a sandwich at The Soup Spoon. By half a sandwich, I mean I picked out the chicken and left the bread. I overestimated my appetite since I had already had a protein shake after the workout. Somehow I hope it all adds up to a balanced meal. By the time dinner time( whatever that means) came around, I just chopped up some celery, cucumbers and tomatoes, mixed it all up with salt, black pepper and lashings of olive oil and lemon juice and ate that with 2 badly boiled eggs. Then I ate 2 pieces of 9-grain Kavli spread with Philadelphia cream cheese. And that was that. I can just see my mom shaking her head. Well, I'm not dead yet. Or skinny.
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His happiness was not a constant thing. It varied from moment to moment. One such moment he would be esctatic, in the throes of passion for a piece of music, or a passing beauty. The next, he would be crying, without really knowing the reason why. The unnameability of his moods was troubling. Was it self-pity? Was it self-indulgence? But since the only practical use of knowing what his troubles were was to cure them, he was quite content to remain ignorant. Content. Yes, he was, for the most part, content. That mortal sin of covetousness was not one that he entertained much. And that he attributed to a chronic laziness that he never roused himself to shake off. There were many things that he attributed to this laziness, so many that he found it useful to keep it, and keep reminding other people of it.
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I seem to be posting these things instead of recording my own thoughts. Perhaps I have lost interest or faith in my own thoughts, and must look to others for inspiration. There is a lot of inspiration out there, and who knows, perhaps one day, I will be able to return to my own thoughts. In the meantime, this guy is amazing in his humanity.
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This is so incredibly awesome that it warrants my first post in yonks! Also my first from my new home in Commonwealth! Hello!
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I was telling Jermyn that the trailer for the new Wolverine movie looked good, and he said,"Jack Hughman?" JACK HUGHMAN! I fucking died! "Ladies and gentlemen, presenting the star of stage and screen, JACK HUGHMAN!" No pictures please, I'm retarded! Posted via LiveJournal.app. |
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... albeit a little faint.... But take heart! On the other side of the sky... Who says there's no hope? Posted via LiveJournal.app. |
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I haven't seen one in ages, and this one appeared, right at our doorstep today! And it's a double! "If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow, why, oh, why can't I?" Posted via LiveJournal.app.
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Walking around aimlessly, I'm reminded how you can be a tourist in your own country. Posted via LiveJournal.app. |
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aggravated
contemplative
contrary
inspired
