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It seems forever.... - Sing With Me If It's Just For Today...
If I should fall behind, Guyster, wait for me.
guysterrules
guysterrules
It seems forever....
It has been a few days since I wrote my LJ and it feels odd. In the "when it rains..." category, juggling three jobs have kept me from the introspection LJ provides. As a result, my thoughts have slipped and slided as if I were walking on an east coast sidewalk.

The show I am producing is still the fits and starts of a messy production. No matter how good the music is, the book undermines the musical goodwill of the show. I've made numerous suggestions on needed cuts, and I also proposed a radical idea - making this an operetta with only the spoken portion of the show being the stand-up. The writer/composer is too close to the material to clearly see what is needed. But this is a workshop and in the process, I know the show will blossom.

I leave for NYC on the 21st to produce a live radio broadcast from the Grammys. I'm looking forward to getting out of town for a few days, experiencing some actual weather, and being in NYC during an orange alert.

I'm also still working on the start-up and have had to devote many hours to its progress in the last week. I continue to grow more frustrated with those with whom I will be working. One is a man who has a great reputation in radio and who I am beginning to truly respect. The other three principals each have unbearable behavior. Moe is a loud, gregarious buffoon who clouds his darkness with Music Man delivery. Larry is weak and acquiescent to the others. Curly is dour and uncommunicative.

Add all three jobs together and I am still not making my enlarged monthly nut. But it is still income. And I am busy. Both are very important factors to my mental health.

Last night at around midnight, I had a total Billy meltdown. It came out of nowhere. BAM! Fetal position and crying hysterically and hugging Bob and trying to reconcile why our lives are the way they are. Why was my baby robbed of a good thirty more years? How can it be none of our future will happen? These questions and more ride on their ugly little Mobius strip and always arrive back to the same point.

I woke up this morning and saw the little Valentines Day painting Billy made me a few years ago. I smiled. I am the luckiest man on earth to have known him. I thank God for putting him in my life. I just don't understand why he had to go home so soon. And I never will.

Current Mood: grateful grateful
Current Music: See The Lights - Simple Minds

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Comments
fabulist From: fabulist Date: February 9th, 2003 06:59 pm (UTC) (Link)
I always thought of those kind of sudden, inexplicable meltdown moments as the times when I wasn't just looking at the little tip of the iceberg sticking out of the sea and instead had a sudden, perfect 3D perspective on that whole damned mountain of cold just sitting there in its wretched entirety, always in my path, always threatening to sink me--it's that naked realization of "holy f*ck, this is really happening, I'm not going to wake up, it's not going to end." I guess even at the worst of it, I knew I had the strength to be who I needed to become to get through and go on, but sometimes you just get sick and tired of being strong and all you can do is grab the dog and sit there with the world spinning around you like some kind of insane amusement park ride, just trying to figure out where to go next.

I think my dog must have been even stronger than me to put up with those moments.
guysterrules From: guysterrules Date: February 10th, 2003 10:53 am (UTC) (Link)
Your gift of imagery could not be more accurate. I have been told so many times over the last year how strong I am and inside, there's this little Terry who is screaming, "Yeah but I don't want to be strong. I'm tired of being strong." When little Terry is loose, Bob gets the brunt of it. Luckily he sees it as extra hugs and he is more than happy to soak it up.
fabulist From: fabulist Date: February 10th, 2003 12:26 pm (UTC) (Link)
Truth be told, strength really sucks sometimes, particularly when it's won at the expense of a f*cking huge rip in the soul. I always have to chuckle a bit when (well-intentioned) people say someone's being so brave or strong to get through tough times, as if it's some kind of choice to fight the good fight out of some sort of noble heroic impulse rather than out of the base genetic instinct for survival. People don't know how to cope with loss, particularly shocking, pointless, and unexpected loss, and I think they flail around a bit in search of the right thing to say. I know I always did, at least until I got a stunning primer in the grieving process that I'd much rather have skipped. It used to be so much easier to maintain a level of denial, and while I'm a stronger person now, sometimes I just pine for the days when I had that denial, when I didn't have the firm grip on the fragility and unfairness of life that I've got now. You almost have to mourn all over again for the loss of your weaker self, or at least let him rule the day now and then. There were a lot of moments, where I'd wind up bumbling around the house crying and feeling insane and just wondering out loud, "Isn't there anyone who can help me?!" Given the fact that my whole family's spiritual energy level and finances crashed more or less simultaneously with mine, the answer was pretty much "no." I keep wanting to write more about this subject, but I'm just in one of my rambly, inarticulate mental states today, so I'll avoid embarassing myself for now.

You're lucky to have such an appreciative (i.e. actually dog-like) dog. My freaky little shar pei-labrador mix is quite possibly the only dog in the universe that doesn't like to be hugged and petted unless it's completely and totally on her own terms (and they're very specific terms reinforced by growling and general crabbiness)--she might as well be a cat in that respect.
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