I literally don’t want to write today. My faith in this blog has taken a massive hit. I write daily and instinctively try to make it interesting. Obviously. But maybe I should just go to the old standard of “wow here I am with *link* doing *link* and omg *linked names* are amazing particularly *linked name with most followers* #actor #actorslife #blessed #MoreHastagsThanContent
I try to tell the truth about my inner state. Often my inner state has no correlation with what you get if you’re in the room with me. We are all like that. It’s called being human.
Internally I’m a screaming mess of insecurities and howling worries, paranoia and crashing loneliness. Externally (I think/hope) I’m gently awkward, friendly, open hearted, caring, creative and immediate.
Yesterday I was having one of those days where I was internally knackered but firing on every available cylinder. The Creation Theatre lot understood that about me and then some. They saw me show up and get ready. I sat with Charlie for a bit and joked that maybe my blog photo should be her dragging me through the door. They knew full well that I was joking – that I’d give the show everything. The show was even live streamed. There is empirical proof that I was on form.
By jokingly writing myself as a fish person I opened a can of tasty bait worms. That one blog has come with a cost. It’s perhaps enough to make me decide to wrap this shit up, frankly. I never set out to hurt myself here. Once before I took a hit because of my daily writings. Now, again. It’s ridiculous.
I’m deeply conflicted. Multiple people have recently told me lovely things about how they encounter this blog. How the thoughts, even when drunkenly circular, sometimes chime with their thoughts or their patterns of thinking. I do find it therapeutic to write this. But not if it fucks up my happiness.
I’m angry. Like when you realise people have been ganging up on you. And I feel I can’t go into detail. But without actually being a problem I’ve made myself into a problem by joking about my state yesterday.
Fuck it. I’m not going to write this anymore today. Blog out.
In fact, no. I can use these words.
I want to thank you, oh constant reader. I’ve been genuinely moved on a very deep level this week by things that people I respect so deeply have told me they’ve taken from these writings. Thank you for staying engaged with this. I don’t know who you are, most of you. It’s so helpful for me to write this. Yeah, sometimes I get the tone wrong. Sometimes I get angry and say stuff I don’t mean. And sometimes I shoot myself in the foot like yesterday. Ha ha ha SLAMFACE.
I have made myself have to do this blog every day and run the marathon of these 500 words for ages now. Sometimes it explodes in my face, but so long as I don’t compromise my honesty in the moment of writing then I can’t regret it, I guess.
I once wrote my speculative opinion of why someone did something incomprehensible to me in this blog. Ages later I was told that they chose not to pursue legal action. Bless. Seriously folks – sometimes I just make the whole blog up. Cucumbrivalis! Other times I exaggerate my inner life for fun. I’m assuming you’re on the same page as me. Don’t get swept up in it. Everything is transient.
I’m so tired I’m making everything bigger in my head. I’m pretty damn fine, and today in rehearsal was lovely.