To be on stage, is to forget that you're on stage. To truly be there with all your senses, you have to forget that there's a stage, and live inside yourself.
You have to only recognize who you are, and interact with others as who you identify them as. To live on stage, is to remember that you're there, and only there.
I cried on stage, and I was so ashamed, being the character, and being myself...
So many things.
Like, how people can be misunderstood.
like, realizing that you really do NOT know everything. not only realizing it, rather feeling it, knowing it with all your senses.
When the street is empty even though it's not 6AM, and it's not 3 AM, either. Sun, and serenity ant the same time.
Precious moments. Really.
When you realize that you're not ugly. You're even beautiful, and you appreciate how beautiful you are. You satisfy yourself. You did everything to be here, and now you're getting Here.
Pretty comes from here.
From now.
I love god, I really do. I rediscover him every day.
Never politicize god. Because god is bigger than getting into these endless wounds.
God is hope. :)
A friend asked me what the worst feeling in the world is. I told her it was regret. Regret is one feeling I didn't experience a lot but I'm pretty sure it's the worst feeling ever for me.
She told me hers was loneliness, another feeling I haven't experienced a lot, because I always found ways out of loneliness. When I was alone, I was happy with it being a choice. I knew how to do things alone, to walk downtown alone, to smoke in a cafe alone. And it was good.
The worst loneliness is loneliness with people being there to actually witness it, and not making it any less.
The opposite would, naturally, be good company. And one you have that, it makes you warm for the whole winter season. Friends that you consider family, a partner that you can always be comfortably silent with. Once you have these, you know you'll survive.
You know you will have lost the energy to do things alone, but you know that you have better company than yourself.
maybe it's because i forget when sleep could take me away or because i can feel the rims of my contact lenses digging into my eyes. well, they say patience is a virtue...
so i pushed my suitcase off the roof--i guess that would be a no for traveling then.
i sat at my vanity and i couldn't help but cringe at her misplaced confidence.
i was mildly surprised to see the reflection of my suitcase falling behind me and to hear the yelp of the neighbor's cat, who now had me to blame for his unfortunate end.
"i just killed a cat, and now the cat's soul ascends-- maybe it'll meet my falling suitcase like a cheesy scene from a movie where the person watches a replay of their death"
i tried to make out the cats soul around the girl's head--it was really awkward, like she was purposely getting in the way. i pounded at the glass only to meet her stubborn fists pounding back.
from the beginning.
driving on a road and becoming suddenly aware of now, forgetting before and after.
now is a white rectangle on black asphalt. always is now and now and now melting into a streak of moving white light.
you find yourself floating in the middle of nowhere or an ocean without shores. although shores make an ocean don't they? so i guess you're floating in water, or blue. a place made of blue and maybe you're blue too because you're the only one who knows you're there at all and it's comforting.
but the brakes bring in panic and you realize you've left things behind and before you can even think about whether that matters, your seatbelt jerks you back into place. no to traveling. no to temporary tastes that you leave bitterly, that leave you bitter and maybe more hungry.
not because you know what you've been missing but because you understand that you've been missing and will continue to miss.
"i'm jealous of the cat. the cat and his glorious death--which probably makes his life glorious too. i doubt i'll ever be special enough to get struck down from the heavens, hand picked by Zeus himself, worthy of a lightning bolt--or a moldy old suitcase of cities unvisited."
--an original work by Cairene and Adrasteia
