Wednesday, December 30, 2009

My true name is not what I am called here

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Another bad night that bled into a bad day. Riding the bike to the library, thought: it's Wednesday. That means: 4 weeks. That was easy. Time sure does fly. Then, wait, I left Austin on the 8th of December. It's Wednesday. 30th. It was 3 weeks yesterday. What I said: the night was long.

Just want to step off stage for a moment, just for a fucking moment. Take off the mask, the face, the skin, forget the name of my character, step out of the role. Feels like spider web inside of me. And there is no place to go. There is no offstage, no proscenium, no audience. Everything that I know is this tired sad drama. It's not that I know my lines by heart. It is that I don't know anything else. I cannot speak anything but my lines. And I am so tired of saying these same goddamn words. This exhaustion I am experiencing is also part of the play, my role, how I am supposed to play my part.

But I know... I know that this is not real. I know there is another world, of greater meaning, of true beauty, beautiful truth, that contains this pseudo-world that I am acting in. I know this. This mask looks like my face. And this name is what I am known by. But my true face is underneath. And my true name is not what I am called here.

I just have to keep distracting myself or I am going to go insane.