Love, love, love. All you need is love.
I'm having trouble writing the opening monologue to Ace II in Love Me Dead. The opening monologue to Act I is all about love and Shakespeare and the multiplicity of it. How it's basically just everywhere. And I need an opener to Act II because it will help the flow of the play.
So I decided to read my journals from last year as research. I don't think I can read them anymore tonight. There's too much pain.
I feel like I have only really truly loved once in my life. And that is because I really loved him, not a love from afar, or an illusion. I knew him and I loved him. Like a river, calm, deep and peaceful. But I kept going in further til the current got too strong and pulled me under. If I hadn't been trying to stand in the middle on my own, I would've stayed upright. It seems my lot in life is to find myself in over my head without someone next to me, to hold to tight and we keep each other afloat.
The pain isn't about lost love, it's lost Lynne. Lost love I've dealt with, I've healed. But there was so much shit that I went through after it. I feel lost after so many months of not dealing with my shit because I didn't know how.
So here I am world. Bitter, jaded, and wholly pessimistic about the goodness of the human spirit. Guess what, dad? The rejection I feel from you won tonight.
So when James says: "I really don’t think you should spend time with her. She’s the kind of girl who manipulates others just for the fun of it. She’ll sink her claws into you if you let her. You don’t know how she can get inside your head." --I actually know someone who treated me like that.
And that's me when Roxy says: "Fine, walk away. That’s all men are good for. Running away when the pressure’s on."
And it's really Lynne when Phoebe says "It happens to every relationship. Someone doesn’t live up to the other’s expectations. You fight about stupid things til you can’t stand each other and you break up, leaving more wounded than when you started. "
Looks like I broke my promise. I thought this blog might be something more than just a venue for my emotional shit. I promised myself to write vague sounding poetry instead.
Poetry: 3
Emotional shit: 1
So I guess I'm winning, even though I broke it?
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