Wednesday, September 24, 2008

pink floyd's "wish you were here" playing on the radio and a past evoked

Pieces are coming together and the puzzle is still nowhere near completion but it is starting to take a recognizable shape; I am more aware of which section of the puzzle to direct these stray pieces. Lines from Whitman are still floating through my head from doing those performances this past weekend. I am large; I contain multitudes. Whitman's scope, absorbing it all, has had its effect on me; I am trying to learn from that, to accept these numerous things, some seemingly incompatible, and to see them all as okay, as necessary.

Earlier this evening, after attending Spanish class, I took the last pill in my PEP treatment. I am so excited. Tomorrow, I will start to have my mind back and my energy back. This past month has been spent in a fog, me inexplicably tired and wanting to nap all the time, often also experiencing dizziness and stomach pains. The evidence of this can be seen in so many aspects of my life, none more starkly though than my output on this diary here in this past month, the lack of it and the inferior quality of my writing as of late, the forced nature of the few attempts at it I have made. I really feel the stirrings of something great about to happen and I can't explain it, what that means, but I am so excited about again having my mental capacities return to normal and I am going to utilize them so much in these coming weeks, that I am about to explode with lots of great things and I cannot wait. In some ways, I am feeling more adult, more aware of time's limitations and of what I need to be doing.

I went to the dentist today for the first time in years and years and have six cavities. I am going to have to be a bit more frugal and work hard in this next month as those are going to cost me quite a bit of money.

I haven't talked to my roommate since our big blowup a week or so ago. We haven't been home together at the same time much, but when we have, we have both kept to our rooms and not really talked when crossing paths. It is certainly not the best living situation, but I really don't care. The television is no longer on, the house is a lot more quiet, and I am able to actually have uninterrupted thoughts. If it could be like this and not tense, that would be ideal. We'll see how time resolves this situation.

On Friday morning, I am heading to Short Mountain in Tennessee with some friends for a few days, me going to rush back for Spanish on Wednesday, and about this trip I am really excited. I am so excited that I won't be on this PEP medicine anymore, that I won't be on it during this trip, that I will have my brain and my natural energies. It is going to be so lovely.

I saw Equus last night, which is also a way of saying I saw Daniel Radcliffe naked last night. The play was really good, a bit dated and certainly not at all subtle, but powerful and affecting nonetheless. The portrait of sexual obsession was really well fleshed out, had me thinking a lot about my own obsessions, not with horses mind you, but able to relate despite that difference. I went with a critic and had such a lovely time talking to him, really felt like I had to step up my game a lot. Conversation became a game that I felt out of shape for. It has been a really long time since I have had really intelligent conversation with someone, and this is something I realized while talking to him, how rare it is for me to have these types of talks lately, that I need to hang out with more nerdy people and talk about books and movies and theater. We went to a bar afterwards and continued to talk, analyzed the play for quite a long while - a really nice practice that I might not have done had I known this person better, that because we didn't really know much about the other, we talked for a really long time about the thing we had both experienced, Equus, discussing it for quite a long time. I am reading Up in the Old Hotel right now, an amazing book by the way about old New York, and this critic had known Mitchell and had stories to relate to me. I was at one remove from this dead author I had been reading and I could not believe that he was able to tell me Mitchell's thoughts about New York's character. I was pretty enraptured with my evening last night.

We parted ways after the bar and maybe we will hang out again and maybe not. This date of sorts contrasts in every way imaginable with my date of sorts earlier in the week with this visiting Russian boy. We had little to talk about, his English terrible, me feeling incredibly awkward, and wanting so badly to roll around in bed with this boy. It didn't happen, maybe it will later, but maybe not, and either way, or some other way or ways, I do not mind. And Whitman comes to mind yet again: "Knowing the perfect equanimity of things, while they discuss I am silent, and go bathe and admire myself."

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