Woe's me
You have to give it up to catastrophe...it kind of helps muffle tragedy. Confused? Okay: well, let's see:
Since I've climbed up tooth and nail up the depths of numbing heartbreak, finding out one of my best friends is dating the only guy I've been interested in seriously in the past four months, someone dropping the show I'm directing, and not being called back for a show because you're directing a play that you didn't write because what you submitted wasn't chosen (although I do love what I'm directing) isn't that devastating. Okay, so that sentence is kind of dense syntactually. Lemme break it down, since I was dumped, everything else that goes badly in my life doesn't seem that bad. On the other hand, everything lately is pretty horrible. I got pulled over on Saturday, did I mention that? It's okay, it was just a fix it ticket...and truth is I had a pretty good weekend. Things just kind of tend to fall apart right when i start to become optimistic. It's okay, I'm a survivor. Thank god that E depression is gone.
On the lighter side of news, American Idol is fucking fantastic. It was nice to see Fantasia and Kelly grace the Grammy stage too! Adds a little legitimacy to the competition. Oh yeah, Randy was on stage too, playing bass for the Sly Stone/IguanaMan medley.
Back to the failed audition....I actually had a good audition. It was my damn schedule. Not accomodating enough, I guess. I wrote an email saying that I'm willing to be more flexible. Since I ain't got no man, and the man I did have finds a need to constantly remind me that he ain't my man, I really wanted to keep busy by just doing shows. Maybe I'll indulge myself in my academics...however i doubt it. I sort of hate my classes, with the exception of my poetry class. I enjoy the class, but I don't think I'm writing well right now. I kind of hit a creative speedbump. I keep writing these prose entries in my writing journal, and nothing is synthesizing itself into a poem. Fuck! But yeah, generally, I do love that class. Geoffrey O'Brien is a hot hot professor. Hot like Fiyah! Hot like Adrienne Rich's lesbian vagina lips.
Cris and I need to start going back to the gym. Since school started, it's been hard to keep up our regiment. Plus he plays busy all the time. But he is, I guess. And I am. And he's probably going to get even busier now that he's dating someone who he's seem to hit if off with. I won't get into the details, but I find this new situation weird. Anyways, I'm over it. I'm just over everything.
Did you hear that? I'm over everything. Not in that defeated way or suicidal way. I'm just over being sad. I'm over crying. I'm over being stuck in bed. I'm over over over everything. I'm over negativity. I just want to be happy again. And I look at pictures and I look at text messages or I look at old poems or I'll wake up from a good dream, and I can taste the happiness with whom I was once familiar. Love the you, Robert, like Carrie says.
Since I've climbed up tooth and nail up the depths of numbing heartbreak, finding out one of my best friends is dating the only guy I've been interested in seriously in the past four months, someone dropping the show I'm directing, and not being called back for a show because you're directing a play that you didn't write because what you submitted wasn't chosen (although I do love what I'm directing) isn't that devastating. Okay, so that sentence is kind of dense syntactually. Lemme break it down, since I was dumped, everything else that goes badly in my life doesn't seem that bad. On the other hand, everything lately is pretty horrible. I got pulled over on Saturday, did I mention that? It's okay, it was just a fix it ticket...and truth is I had a pretty good weekend. Things just kind of tend to fall apart right when i start to become optimistic. It's okay, I'm a survivor. Thank god that E depression is gone.
On the lighter side of news, American Idol is fucking fantastic. It was nice to see Fantasia and Kelly grace the Grammy stage too! Adds a little legitimacy to the competition. Oh yeah, Randy was on stage too, playing bass for the Sly Stone/IguanaMan medley.
Back to the failed audition....I actually had a good audition. It was my damn schedule. Not accomodating enough, I guess. I wrote an email saying that I'm willing to be more flexible. Since I ain't got no man, and the man I did have finds a need to constantly remind me that he ain't my man, I really wanted to keep busy by just doing shows. Maybe I'll indulge myself in my academics...however i doubt it. I sort of hate my classes, with the exception of my poetry class. I enjoy the class, but I don't think I'm writing well right now. I kind of hit a creative speedbump. I keep writing these prose entries in my writing journal, and nothing is synthesizing itself into a poem. Fuck! But yeah, generally, I do love that class. Geoffrey O'Brien is a hot hot professor. Hot like Fiyah! Hot like Adrienne Rich's lesbian vagina lips.
Cris and I need to start going back to the gym. Since school started, it's been hard to keep up our regiment. Plus he plays busy all the time. But he is, I guess. And I am. And he's probably going to get even busier now that he's dating someone who he's seem to hit if off with. I won't get into the details, but I find this new situation weird. Anyways, I'm over it. I'm just over everything.
Did you hear that? I'm over everything. Not in that defeated way or suicidal way. I'm just over being sad. I'm over crying. I'm over being stuck in bed. I'm over over over everything. I'm over negativity. I just want to be happy again. And I look at pictures and I look at text messages or I look at old poems or I'll wake up from a good dream, and I can taste the happiness with whom I was once familiar. Love the you, Robert, like Carrie says.