02 February 2003 - 7:40 pm
thorns.

so i feel sort of compelled to put an entry in.

actf was fine. we saw some good productions and some shitty productions. i learned some stuff and met some people that i'd forgotten about. saw brian therrien, even, from big y a summer or so ago. amazing, honestly. he's still working there, but "not for much longer," i am assured.

bad blood tonight. like the red turns to black and boils, seethes through the underground caves of my arteries and veins. i imagine stalactites and stalagmites.

jason came up here and asked me why my away message was "seething // little metal dancers on the floor of my wrists" and i said i was mad and i didn't want to go down to the damned quad because i've been with these people the whole past fucking week and i'm sick and tired of everything. everyfuckingthing. the deceit, the lies, the immaturity, the frustration, and i'm just ... tired.

i didn't enjoy myself for most of the festival because i was trapped into my own thoughts, burying myself into the piles of shit.

after three times changing my opinion on the production of "othello" because i was undecided, sitting in the room anthony jason anna and some others share. anthony asks what i thought of the show. i said "i mostly enjoyed it, but - "

anna: "i don't get you." with a laugh. "you're such a hypocrite."

i look at her. "don't call me that." and try to explain myself. "i tend to change my opinion from ... " and i don't remember what i said.

"i don't care." she says, flat-out. "i don't want to have this conversation with you right now." and a few minutes later, i left.

later, i was greeted with a hug and a "we were both tired / cranky earlier, and i didn't mean it .. " etc, i didn't hear it, i was still tired, and i don't like to be suddenly overwhelmed with emotion after i'm still trying to figure out what just happened ..

rain and snow. i'm sitting here listening to jack johnson despairing over the semester and the future. the car-ride both ways (more driving to than returning from) was ... fraught with tension. as usual. erin & nate have one of those relationships. and i'm not even going to bother commenting on it because it's not going to help anything and it's not my business to say anything anyway.

what i get from this festival is that my presence is more of an irritant than anything. a burr to be scratched off. and maybe if they're in the "mood" for me, i'll tag along. if that's how it seems. and to that, i say fuck you. because i'm sick of it. SICK OF IT. you don't understand how angry i am. it's inclusion, and then ... a casual indifference - and i am not making this up. there were times, sure, when i needed to be alone, which was when i went to my room and watched TV or just ... went to sleep. i feel like an afterthought, a nice little inclusion every once-in-awhile.

and then there's mark. who i can't figure out, who i'm not even going to try to figure out. he's his own goddamn person, and i'm mine, and ... i don't know anything. i don't. and i'm pissed off. bad blood, i kept saying to the people who asked me what was wrong. just bad humour, bad anger and seethe.

there were times this vacation that i was fine with. i enjoyed the days i spent with the people i barely knew - sitting for a minute or so and talking to sean demers about his scene, about iraq, about the ten minute plays we saw, talking with tara (who has the distinction of being the most level-headed and mature person i know right now) and ... just kind of trying to decide what i am, and what the fuck i'm doing.

first read-through for "eggs over eric" on feb. 17th. 7pm. haven't heard if they've found a jeremy to my eric and chris kinne's grandma yet. should be interesting. there's a kiss. i hope i can overcome the nagging worry i have. made the dean's list. mom was happy. getting a cell phone in a day or so. staring at the pictures tacked up on my board. wishing for spring instead of the puddles of slush on the ground. thinking about writing a play about my dad.

.,.. done.

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