Creative Control

Miscellaneous Mental Musings of an Emerging Artist

His veins were filled with chocolate pudding.

I’m still not sure why, but I have a driving urge within me to mention off the bat that I fully intended to post this entry yesterday afternoon, sometime between 4 and 5 pm, but was unable to because the server connection was very, very slow-to-nonexistent. There’s no reason for me to be this apologetic, since I never post daily anyway, sometimes going for a few weeks at a time before posting (I’m not even sure if anybody still reads the journal, since I’ve been so unreliable). But for some reason, I want it on the record that I meant to write this entry last night.

The last few days in the office, I have been obscenely thirsty, and have been as a result downing the recommended 8 glasses of water a day, but I nonetheless remain thirsty. I spent most of the last few days wondering if I had some disease lingering within me, because I seemed to remember seeing some movie or TV show where a character was very, very thirsty as the result of something unhealthy. And then, last night, I realized that what I’d been thinking of was not a disease, but the condition of being shot in the belly. As I check myself over now, I can now confirm that I have not been shot in the belly. Nonetheless, I continue to be thirsty. My girlfriend thinks perhaps I need more Gatorade, with its electrolytes and vitamins. I’m remembering the words of a Desert Storm veteran who spoke to my eighth-grade social studies class, telling us how the soldiers in the desert had to drink one Hinckley & Schmitt water cooler daily just to remain at a surviving level, and a story of one soldier who did not follow this regimen, got very ill, and when the doctors cut him to check his dehydration level, the blood oozed out of him like chocolate pudding.

My girlfriend and I are arriving at a crossroads, and what it comes down to is that I need to grow up and assert myself with my family. For too long now, they have done their best to act as though she’s not a part of my life; she’s not invited to family functions or even acknowledged how much she means to me. This can’t continue, I’ve been very adept at keeping the two halves of my life separated, but Donna’s right, if I want us to work out, I need to bite the bullet and make better attempts at integration. I can take it slowly, but I need to take it.

Tomorrow night, I begin the 24-7 experiment. I’m really looking forward to it, I think it has reminded me of something that I have forgotten about why I got involved in theatrical endeavors in the first place–it’s not about the money or production values, or even the amount of time required to work on it, but the simple joy of creation. I’m going to go have fun with people I’ve never met before, and at the end of 24 hours, I hope to have met people that I can continue meeting in the future.

I think I had more to say, but I can’t think of it right now. Perhaps I’ll post a few entries today. To be continued…?

Current music: Soul Coughing, “El Oso”

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This entry was posted on May 10, 2002 by in Health, Life, Love, Theatre, Writing.
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