The guilt is insane. I’m sorry I don’t call you mum. I’m
sorry I never call you grandad; and now that you're dead I’m sorry I wasn’t
there. I’m sorry for putting you all through this, me that is. You tell me all
you need from me is to exist and put in a light way I don't even know how to do
that. I feel like I always need to take a break from life, break-away to
re-enter. Stoppard did say that every exit is an entrance somehwere, but in
theatre that’s just called off-stage and when you’re off-stage you don’t exist.
That’s sort of how I feel. Like when there’s a place I have to be bang (!) I’ll
be there on cue and give it my all, like a battle or a performance being played
out before an expectant audience. As if anyone would watch this bullshit. I
have this fear that I started walking out in to the wilderness to explore but
somewhere along the line the exploration became a route and now I’m not sure where
I’m heading. No compass. No light. But there is – something - something that
stops me from freezing on the spot and crawling in to a foetal position - a
something also yearning for me. Maybe I yearn for “it” so I feel like I don’t
need to aim I just need to carry on and the things that don’t matter will
gradually fall to the wayside and the things that immediately grab my attention
(must be possessed) will lodge itself inside my mind’s eye.
Is this what you really want to do?
If this is what you really want to do then you should go for
it.
Is this what I really want to do?
Do I just think that this is what I really want to do but
not have any conviction as to whether it’s true or not?
Am I just saying that to second-guess an argument for why I
should just give up now and go running back from whence I came. Back to the
office. Back to the house. Back to the commute and the meaningless flickers. My
senses felt numbed then. I also had less hope in humanity. It was a terrible
place to be right after uni when you’re trying to stay positive about all this
humdrum. I know it’s not. I can fill in a tax return and am better for it. But
what do I want? That’s the question you should ask yourself, not solely let
others ask of you.
I want
I want
I want
To know that other people feel the way I do. To share in a
collective moment that was created by an individual thought. Objective and
subjective. I want the world to collapse. I want time to not behave properly,
for it to be non-linear and acute. I want life to be less obtuse. Because
that’s what we deserve. And when I see a play or am at a live gig where music
plays, when I live something else other than my own life I feel like,
empowered. I want to pass that spirit on. I want others to revel in it and take
my serious pursuits flippantly. I want to amuse and make life better because
when I’m really honest about it I know it won’t mean a thing. I know it. I’m
not just saying it. I know that there will be people always and I will not
always be here. This is the only time I will be here so whilst it lasts I have
to try and make it worth the energy it takes to keep me existing. All those
molecules that are being sucked up and made in to mine and then flushed out and
sucked up by others. Life force. My foot’s unfortunately trodden in the arts
and I don’t know if everyone is so aware of all this sucking and flushing that
contributes to life. Maybe they are and I’m the idiot willing to waste time
contemplating it.
But do I really want it?
How can someone who doesn’t really want life want anything?
I’m happy whatever happens so long as I am conscious of my
existence.
Reality collapses when you start thinking in terms of the
now.
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