sometimes I think the only reason to leave London is so I can be happy to be back
Driving back through the heavy fog, dead trees, and traces of snow is reflective somewhat of the inner landscape, bleak and numb for not reason other than self-defence - defending the self from the self - which is all very well but doesn't leave me terribly talkative. And there's no reception out there anyway.
Watched Lolita (1997) before I left and gave myself an interminable dose of sadness. Hearts don't fix themselves for the asking, and it's frustrating. At least the gloomy "you will never get anywhere or do anything because you are stupid" has lifted a little; Darling, I said to myself, you are not trying a totally new thing, you are trying the thing you've had since before you could write - THEATRE - from an angle that doesn't make you vomit with fear the way acting ended up doing (lol thanks adolescence, I enjoyed it before). You're going home, not striking out into the unknown. Surprised to find that helped.
Dreamed about Martin Freeman twice in the last two days, and also crotalus_atrox. Confused about the former. Comments disabled because I can't really talk to anyone at the moment.
Watched Lolita (1997) before I left and gave myself an interminable dose of sadness. Hearts don't fix themselves for the asking, and it's frustrating. At least the gloomy "you will never get anywhere or do anything because you are stupid" has lifted a little; Darling, I said to myself, you are not trying a totally new thing, you are trying the thing you've had since before you could write - THEATRE - from an angle that doesn't make you vomit with fear the way acting ended up doing (lol thanks adolescence, I enjoyed it before). You're going home, not striking out into the unknown. Surprised to find that helped.
Dreamed about Martin Freeman twice in the last two days, and also crotalus_atrox. Confused about the former. Comments disabled because I can't really talk to anyone at the moment.