November Rain
For some reason, this is my favorite time of year. Maybe because I was born in the Fall, who knows?
I love the cool weather and crispness in the air. The winds blowing against my face. The moon looking bigger somehow. Orion rising to greet me, a forgotten friend.
Work has become oppressively boring of late. I seem to have enough to do (I usually don't), it's just that the work is soul-crushing. Sitting in my forgotten corner working on my spreadsheets.
Thank God for the Hunger Artists. I am starting on a new show, "Searching for Americana". We started off pretty shaky, but Katie, our Director is going to make it happen through sheer will if she has to. I'm working with Tony Swagler, something I haven't done in 4 years. Tony is one of my Best Friends and we have done several shows together, but this is the first time that we will be interacting on stage together. I forsee Chaos in the works. It's gonna be quite a show...
Got sick as a dog over the weekend. Some kind of Stomach Bug. Real nasty fucker. Still feeling like I'm in slow motion. Food is not my friend.
I'm finding my mind wandering a lot lately. Falling into the past or the never was. Driving to work this morning, instead of heading straight down Katella to State College, I turned on Glassell, heading towards the Orange Circle. It added 30 minutes to my trip, but I was already there mentally, why not cruise by?
I don't pretend to understand the things I put myself through. Komal thinks that I like to suffer. Maybe she's right. For some reason I think it makes me more noble. As if suffering for something makes it more special. I guess most things are special to me than...
Maybe that's why I like this time of year. It helps me hone my suffering to razor precision. I savor the meloncholy that the weather puts me in. Like introspection equals depth or something. Sometimes it's just Masturbatory. Getting off on your own misery. Distilling it into a bittersweet elixir. Something to roll around on your tongue and savor. It's a madness, I swear it is.
Sometimes, I dream that it is as I wish it could be, and it is a glorious feeling. Then I wake to find that it is not true. I try to hold onto that feeling, to taste that sweetness again. It always sours. But, I still won't let it go. So, I savor the bitterness, for once it was sweet and knowing that is enough.
Perhaps it is the dreamer in me that will not let go that haunts me. I won't let go of the Dream. I still strive to make it real.
Under the stars of the cool November nights, I can see what I dream. And I still want it to be real.
Pity me...
I love the cool weather and crispness in the air. The winds blowing against my face. The moon looking bigger somehow. Orion rising to greet me, a forgotten friend.
Work has become oppressively boring of late. I seem to have enough to do (I usually don't), it's just that the work is soul-crushing. Sitting in my forgotten corner working on my spreadsheets.
Thank God for the Hunger Artists. I am starting on a new show, "Searching for Americana". We started off pretty shaky, but Katie, our Director is going to make it happen through sheer will if she has to. I'm working with Tony Swagler, something I haven't done in 4 years. Tony is one of my Best Friends and we have done several shows together, but this is the first time that we will be interacting on stage together. I forsee Chaos in the works. It's gonna be quite a show...
Got sick as a dog over the weekend. Some kind of Stomach Bug. Real nasty fucker. Still feeling like I'm in slow motion. Food is not my friend.
I'm finding my mind wandering a lot lately. Falling into the past or the never was. Driving to work this morning, instead of heading straight down Katella to State College, I turned on Glassell, heading towards the Orange Circle. It added 30 minutes to my trip, but I was already there mentally, why not cruise by?
I don't pretend to understand the things I put myself through. Komal thinks that I like to suffer. Maybe she's right. For some reason I think it makes me more noble. As if suffering for something makes it more special. I guess most things are special to me than...
Maybe that's why I like this time of year. It helps me hone my suffering to razor precision. I savor the meloncholy that the weather puts me in. Like introspection equals depth or something. Sometimes it's just Masturbatory. Getting off on your own misery. Distilling it into a bittersweet elixir. Something to roll around on your tongue and savor. It's a madness, I swear it is.
Sometimes, I dream that it is as I wish it could be, and it is a glorious feeling. Then I wake to find that it is not true. I try to hold onto that feeling, to taste that sweetness again. It always sours. But, I still won't let it go. So, I savor the bitterness, for once it was sweet and knowing that is enough.
Perhaps it is the dreamer in me that will not let go that haunts me. I won't let go of the Dream. I still strive to make it real.
Under the stars of the cool November nights, I can see what I dream. And I still want it to be real.
Pity me...
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home