I’m lonely and sore.
Yesterday I was singing vocal exercises. Sometimes when I sing now it’s thrilling, and amazingly pleasurable in my body and my heart. Just the sensation of letting my energy out through my voice is –
Sometimes it just hurts. I sang for a while then I stopped.
But it lingered. And yesterday when I went to the beach, watching all the people – children and families, friends and lovers – being together, or playing or enjoying themselves. Sometimes it’s wonderful, to at least be part of it in some way, but yesterday it was unbearable.
I watched a group playing – what’s that game where you hit a ball with your fists over the net? Can’t remember. Anyway, that game. They all look comfortable being part of a team and okay with themselves. I don’t know whether I’m okay or not today, because I don’t have anybody who really loves me. My heart feels as if it’s going to burst. I have a crying storm building pressure inside me, but it won’t break yet.
It’s horrible. Moments like this, my past crowds in on me. I have got to replace them with new ones. I have to. I’ve really had enough of my fucking past.
Oh. I guess I’m angry.
Whatever it is, sore, angry, scared, I surely don’t feel inspired.
I can’t be alone like this any more. I have to have people in my world, I have to have my own community, be part of other peoples’ worlds. Otherwise I will go mad. That would be a waste of all the work I’ve done to build the foundation of my launching pad for stepping out of my history. It would be a waste of a lifetime of holding onto my dreams, fighting for them in every way that I could. A waste of all my victories. A waste of learning to face myself and take on my demons.
Screw that. I’m not giving in. I’m not giving up. I still feel sore and angry, though. Well, I feel a bit better now, actually. Letting myself say whatever I want to say, letting it be okay that I’ve got nothing philosophical or wise or interesting or even mildly intelligent to say. Letting myself be sore and angry (I don’t think I’m scared today – maybe a bit, of growing old and alone and being eaten by Alsations).
I need someone to have fun with, who can be happy talking crap and serious stuff. Somebody to horse around with. Somebody who can embrace his own emotions and who isn’t scared of mine. Somebody who doesn’t need to lie to himself and who’s got nice, big, expansive – but sane and grounded, of course – ideas about life and its possibilities.
I don’t think I want him to come too close – I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. I’d just like to meet him. I don’t want any of this overwhelming he’s my soul mate stuff. I don’t want to lose myself. I just want to hang out.
I want to have some fun.
I want to have lots of fun. There’s been a distinct lack of it in my life, and that’s a fact. A lamentable one.
Well look at that, I’m in a good mood again. Well, I guess I’ll go down to the internet café and post this.