[one of the questions that occurs to me as I watch my infatuation with dear Juliet from afar, is how much do I really love her and how much am I just in love with the idea of loving her? I mean, how much of it is just me loving the romance of it… well eventually we shall I am sure.
Tonight about midnight in the grocery store, well actually it was the drug store, I never shop for groceries in a grocery store, only in drug stores, I had this epiphany. What if the reality show that we were working on was a one man show after all. kind of like a one man show AND a reality show all at the same time. an on going one man show. Not one that just lasts for an hour or so but one that lasts for a few years? just an ongoing reality show/one man show. But rather than is the case with Laurie Anderson or Eddie izzard or any other one man shows where there is all this planning and staging and scripting and all of that and tours around the country, the same show, night after night, its just me constantly doing a one man show all the time and its totally unscripted and unplanned, except of course when we plan it and script it, and it changes all the time because we aren’t touring it around night after night; instead we are filming it every fucking day. except of course when I want days off.
So yes that is it. one step closer to now fully realizing my real potential, my true calling, my life’s work as it may be if we should be so lucky.
Last screening: sense and sensibility. Newer one with Emma Thompson and Hugh grant. I love Jane Austen. I don’t care who’s playing it. There is the circuitous nature of the sentences that she composed for her characters, where one must listen deeper, past the initial sentiment, to discover what little pearls of wisdom lie underneath, all the while she gloriously decorates each sentence with such mellifluous tone that often times you lose interest in ascertaining the deeper meaning entirely and are content enough just basking in the pleasantness of how the words fall together.
I would like to write like that one day. but in a modern way of course. I mean, more to say, I would like to write in my own style, in a way, such as she did, that creates as much joy for others as her writing does for me. o.k. fuck it. now I’m trying to write like she did. But you know, everyone goes through their Jane Austen phase. let us hope it doesn’t last too much longer. No one can understand me now as it is.