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

2002-12-22 - 1:55 a.m.

One of those times

Today was not a good day. Not because anything happened, but perhaps because nothing did.

Things that are difficult for me to deal with emotionally, I often put off. I crowd them to the back of my mind, try not to deal with them, put off the coping. Maybe I expect my subconscious to deal with them. Maybe I'm a coward.

Today they all came crowding in, rushing in from all sides.

My grandfather is dying, and I've been trying to figure out what it is I want to say to him while I still have the chance. I don't know. I don't know what to say. Worse, it may turn out that if I figure it out, and find the strength to say them, he won't be in any shape to hear them. He may not even know that I'm there.

Gather ye rosebuds, bullshit, bullshit.

I think that the reason that the way things turned out with ShyGirl is bugging me so much has not as much to do with how I feel about her as it has to do with what she had come to mean to me. She became a symbol of the possibilities of love. I felt like a door was opening, that has once again closed.

The "Alone, alone, you're going to die alone" chorus has returned. With a vengeance.

The show was pretty good tonight. The show was the only time today I felt remotely close to okay. I needed the show tonight. I needed that feeling. That feeling that there's something in my life that works. That's worth doing. That I can do and not feel like a failure.

And I rode that feeling for about an hour, before all the shit came back in.

Sometimes I look around my life and don't like what I see.

Today was one of those times.

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