Outside it is raining, which suits me just about fine. I’ve been waiting for the storm all day.
It matches the internal aspects of my being right now.
I don’t care that there is washing on the line, that the kids are getting bored and fractious, I just want to curl up in bed and sleep for weeks.
I’m scared and I’m lonely and I’m lost.
I have read today, though, read seven chapters of a book for class and took detailed notes – it told me I could imagine circumstances if I needed to.
I don’t think I need to, not for the scenes we are doing now, the amount of pain that I could express seems to know no bounds and maybe thats what I’m scared of, in class and at home…everything just hurts.
And now just to make it more simple phyiscally along come my throat ulcers and ones on the roof of my mouth, the kind that require lignocaine and make it impossible to swallow or eat without that lovely razorblade feeling..
its like my mind rebounds in the physical.
And this sucks because I’m meant to be happy now, right? I’m meant to be thrilled and okay? I got what I really wanted – I got into a great acting school and I love it…
but I’m just so lost and hurt and afraid.
I dream at night and they are horrific tales that wend through my brain in a train of sucessive carridges of ever increasing nightmare waking me with cries and tears.
And damn it all they make me write this kind of stuff – the bad poetry side of me…
But right now, right here, I am crying.
Right now, right here, I just don’t know what to do.
So I write.