Rejoining the Living

Last night was the first reading of the new show I’m in.
“The Flying Spaghetti Monster Holiday Pageant”
Holy Crap. This is going to be a cornucopia of craziness. I play Mayor Ragbottom, who in turn plays a 12 year old boy.
It’s my first show since…
Since I’ve been back. I’ve been a bit a hermit for the last couple of months. Now I’m in one show and providing security.
I’m going to be the bodyguard for the girls of the OCUBS: The Orange County Underground Burlesque Society. Both shows will be running in December at the Hunger Artists Theater Company.
Ready or not, I’m back in the game…

A Little Help Here, Folks...

I just came from Borders, and the strangest thing happened.
I couldn't find anything I wanted to read.

I just finished up the latest Terry Pratchet Discworld novel ("Thud" - It was awesome). I need a new author.

Any suggestions?

Help me out people! I need a paperback I can fit in my pocket.

Quarter to Four...

Nights like this are worst. Where sleep isn’t just hard, it’s impossible.
I ran out of the Trazidone a week ago. Can’t get it refilled until payday.
The Tylenol PM used to work, but not anymore.
I took 4 last night.
Nothing.
I didn’t even get tired.
So, here I am at quarter to four.
Thinking.
My brain is a curse. It never stops. It rebels at every turn. Always leading me where I don’t want to go. Where I can’t go.

Two months. Has it really been almost 2 months?
It was yesterday. It was a lifetime ago. Somebody else’s life. It was never me.

It was never me.

My brain tricks and teases. Maybe…
Fuck you.
Live with it. Move on.
To what?

Dying all the time…
Lose your dreams and you could lose your mind…
Goodbye Ruby Tuesday.
Still, I’m gonna miss you…

Trying to distract. Refocus.
Plan B.
Throw myself into something. Something that will absorb the time.
It works.
During the day.
Lying in the dark, I don’t think about Orcs & Goblins.
I think about her.

The Enchanted Forest.
In my mind, my heart, time stopped there.
Or should have.
It was perfect. And Terrible.
That horrible, inevitable moment of truth.
Knowing it was the end.
Wanting it to be perfect.
The Perfect Little Death.

If we could have stayed there. Chasing the butterflies. Hiding from the sun. The Harsh Light of Day.

Sleep doesn’t help. It all just waits for me in dreams.

I want to hate. Burn it up. Burn it out.
I can’t.

Find the next thing. The next infatuation. The next obsession.
It’s always worked before.
But, then again, it didn’t, did it.
Not with her.
You tried that. I could hardly have done more to bury it.
And yet. Every day.
Every. Day.

Rational Thought tells me that this will get better.
Easier.
Do I want it to?
I’m not sure I do.
I’m not ready to try and bury it again.
More Time.
More Time.
That all it’s going to take.

Never.
Never.
Never.

Grow up.
Grow cold.
Grow hard.

No.