No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2003-02-17 - 2:12 a.m.

bad spot, deep funk

Once again I haven't been writing, cause there's nothing to write but bile. I'm in a bad spot right now.

Last night I stayed in, hid from the world. I watched a couple of movies. One of them was The Shipping News. Which is a great film, by the by. Anyway, without giving away too many spoilers, in the first ten minutes of that movie, I broke down and wept. Granted, it was a relatively emotional scene. But I watched Schindler's List with little more than a knot in my throat. This was full on, tears streaming weeping. Big wracking sobs. Pretty much felt out of nowhere, and at the same time, long overdue.

What I'm getting at is that there's a whole ocean of shit living just below the surface. And every day for the past couple of weeks, I've been using all my energy just to keep it there.

Friday night (which was Valentine's Day) I ended up going down to Rudy's. Stimpy and Dorothy were there (again with the married woman away from her hubby on important date, and again with I just don't know) and they tried very hard to cheer me up. As it turns out, both Rudy and I were in shit ass piss poor fuck you moods. We ended up sitting up and talking waaaaaay late, and very little of it was good.

I haven't been in a funk this deep for a long damn time. I'm actually feeling almost normal at the moment, which means it's the best I've felt in over a week.

There's more, regarding my hiding from things, but I don't feel up to facing that tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

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