two posts for the price of one
I’m confused by a dichotomy that resides in me.
I’m happy at the moment; I had a great weekend, one to write home about (no fuckapalooza, but that’s not the be all and end all of a good time) I feel happy because I’m being reminded that I have friends who care about me, and that I am in the possession of a personality that people seem to like. I’m not who I want to be when I grow up yet, but I’m slowly, inch by inch leaving behind the social retard I’ve lived with for years. I’m happy.
Yet
In the kitchen here at work, for some reason there is a razor blade that sits on top of the fridge. Every time I walk in there to get a drink or a snack, or just to walk through – I look at that blade and fantasize about it. I wonder what it would be like to press it into the flesh of my arm, and see the blood rise to the surface. I wonder how much it would hurt, and how hard I would have to slice to make a decent mark. I’ve picked it up before and felt it: it’s very blunt. I can’t stop thinking about this every time I see it. I’ve felt sad and desperate before, and it seemed like it would be a good idea – a good way to make me feel something different, or take my mind off whatever was bothering me at the time. I’m not sure why. Now I feel happy, and I still think about it.
How can someone be so excited about how their life is progressing and yet still feel so utterly disgusted with one’s self, or disappointed in themselves?
I don’t understand myself.
Is it just low self-esteem?
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I’m unsure of whether I want anyone to reply to the above text.
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I remembered something I did last weekend (yes, I know it’s almost been a week – I guess I’m finally developing that hazy-alcoholic-memory…) I’m both happy and embarrassed about it… I’m always secretly happy when I embarrass myself, because it means I’ve revealed myself in some way – and I love people knowing about me… I’m not sure why… but it does explain the blog.
I need to tell a bit of a back story: This was the second time that Penny Machinations has been put on – the first time was at La Mamma, and all bar the side-show I was manning was different. There was one, that was just a little booth with a phone in it, and you went in there and picked up the receiver and a voice would start talking to you. You would get one of a series of random monologues from selected plays. I went in there and got one of the monologues from Crave – a very sexy monologue. In fact, there were two performers who did the phone, one male and one female, and I was lucky enough to get the male… and my my my didn’t he do his monologue well…. I will say, with great authority that it was the SEXIEST thing I’ve ever experienced. There was a lot of “I want to touch your back, and your shoulder… I want to buy you a kitten and then get jealous when you love it more than you do me” well, admittedly the kitten thing isn’t that sexy, but there was a lot of other ‘I want to’ bits that were just fucking great. I’ve never been more turned on in my life… EVER. EVER. And afterwards I got to meet the guy who did it, of course, cos he’s a friend of my friend. Well… I didn’t so much as meet him as get him pointed out while I drooled. He wasn’t particularly good looking (well, he was nothing to sneeze at – “wouldn’t kick him out of bed for farting” as my housemate says), but – lets just say, I have a bit of an aural fixation…
Anyway, he came and saw this Penny, of course. He actually is involved with another show that was really successful here (during the comedy fest? Not sure…) and ended up touring Canada and wherever else… was living in New York for a while apparently with the other lads from the show, and has come back now – to perform the same show as part of the Melbourne international Arts Festival (or so I’m told). So I got to talk to him properly for the first time since the first Penny, and I was extremely proud of myself – not a hint of social retard-ness… I was witty, charming, happy etc etc. Then, this last weekend he was at the Hi-Fi bar for the Fringe after party thing that I ended up going to, and I was VERY drunk. To cut a long story shot (hehehe bit late) I ended up telling him as he was leaving the whole being turned on thing… he laughed and left. I did get a hug though, and he smiled. I hope he was grateful and not horribly disgusted… what was my point? Umm… that I actually told someone I thought they were hot – I just hope that it went down as well as I remember in my head, because admittedly my recollections of the night are a little fuzzy. Unfortunately (for me) it didn’t make him want to ravage me right there and then, and talk all sorts of nonsense in my ear while making passionate love, but… well… at least I told him. Or maybe I shouldn’t have? Hehehe I think my inner social retard was busting to come out after being squashed for so long, and that’s what happened. But it was a compliment right?
Any person would love to be told they’re sexy right?
Right?????
I’m happy at the moment; I had a great weekend, one to write home about (no fuckapalooza, but that’s not the be all and end all of a good time) I feel happy because I’m being reminded that I have friends who care about me, and that I am in the possession of a personality that people seem to like. I’m not who I want to be when I grow up yet, but I’m slowly, inch by inch leaving behind the social retard I’ve lived with for years. I’m happy.
Yet
In the kitchen here at work, for some reason there is a razor blade that sits on top of the fridge. Every time I walk in there to get a drink or a snack, or just to walk through – I look at that blade and fantasize about it. I wonder what it would be like to press it into the flesh of my arm, and see the blood rise to the surface. I wonder how much it would hurt, and how hard I would have to slice to make a decent mark. I’ve picked it up before and felt it: it’s very blunt. I can’t stop thinking about this every time I see it. I’ve felt sad and desperate before, and it seemed like it would be a good idea – a good way to make me feel something different, or take my mind off whatever was bothering me at the time. I’m not sure why. Now I feel happy, and I still think about it.
How can someone be so excited about how their life is progressing and yet still feel so utterly disgusted with one’s self, or disappointed in themselves?
I don’t understand myself.
Is it just low self-esteem?
------------------------------------------
I’m unsure of whether I want anyone to reply to the above text.
------------------------------------------
I remembered something I did last weekend (yes, I know it’s almost been a week – I guess I’m finally developing that hazy-alcoholic-memory…) I’m both happy and embarrassed about it… I’m always secretly happy when I embarrass myself, because it means I’ve revealed myself in some way – and I love people knowing about me… I’m not sure why… but it does explain the blog.
I need to tell a bit of a back story: This was the second time that Penny Machinations has been put on – the first time was at La Mamma, and all bar the side-show I was manning was different. There was one, that was just a little booth with a phone in it, and you went in there and picked up the receiver and a voice would start talking to you. You would get one of a series of random monologues from selected plays. I went in there and got one of the monologues from Crave – a very sexy monologue. In fact, there were two performers who did the phone, one male and one female, and I was lucky enough to get the male… and my my my didn’t he do his monologue well…. I will say, with great authority that it was the SEXIEST thing I’ve ever experienced. There was a lot of “I want to touch your back, and your shoulder… I want to buy you a kitten and then get jealous when you love it more than you do me” well, admittedly the kitten thing isn’t that sexy, but there was a lot of other ‘I want to’ bits that were just fucking great. I’ve never been more turned on in my life… EVER. EVER. And afterwards I got to meet the guy who did it, of course, cos he’s a friend of my friend. Well… I didn’t so much as meet him as get him pointed out while I drooled. He wasn’t particularly good looking (well, he was nothing to sneeze at – “wouldn’t kick him out of bed for farting” as my housemate says), but – lets just say, I have a bit of an aural fixation…
Anyway, he came and saw this Penny, of course. He actually is involved with another show that was really successful here (during the comedy fest? Not sure…) and ended up touring Canada and wherever else… was living in New York for a while apparently with the other lads from the show, and has come back now – to perform the same show as part of the Melbourne international Arts Festival (or so I’m told). So I got to talk to him properly for the first time since the first Penny, and I was extremely proud of myself – not a hint of social retard-ness… I was witty, charming, happy etc etc. Then, this last weekend he was at the Hi-Fi bar for the Fringe after party thing that I ended up going to, and I was VERY drunk. To cut a long story shot (hehehe bit late) I ended up telling him as he was leaving the whole being turned on thing… he laughed and left. I did get a hug though, and he smiled. I hope he was grateful and not horribly disgusted… what was my point? Umm… that I actually told someone I thought they were hot – I just hope that it went down as well as I remember in my head, because admittedly my recollections of the night are a little fuzzy. Unfortunately (for me) it didn’t make him want to ravage me right there and then, and talk all sorts of nonsense in my ear while making passionate love, but… well… at least I told him. Or maybe I shouldn’t have? Hehehe I think my inner social retard was busting to come out after being squashed for so long, and that’s what happened. But it was a compliment right?
Any person would love to be told they’re sexy right?
Right?????
posted by ekstasis at 1:20 PM
1 Comments:
that's a handy tip, thanks askinstoo.... I'll be sure to write that down on a piece of paper, eat it, shit it and then make you eat that shit...
thanks
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