A lovely relaxed weekend. I woke from the most involved dreams I’ve had for ages. I dreamt back to a man I met on the street near Waterloo station perhaps twenty years ago who was on his way to kill himself. I saw something in his eyes and asked him if he was alright, and we had an explosive and bizarre night walking the streets by the river together while he told me his things. He was a Scotsman. I remember his face. I’ve just searched his name as he’s stored in my phone with his first name and “Waterloo walking suicide watch”. It was him in my dream, clear as day. I hope he hasn’t gone back dark. I liked him. But I never messaged him again, we were from utterly different worlds. At the time that was the dynamic he needed, a stranger, a bouncing point. I still remember the look I caught as I walked past – he was in such a mess of despair.
Those days were curious days. There was always something happening around there. Perry was working the Pit Bar so you had a decent shot at a free pint if the show wasn’t down yet. Someone would be having drinks at one of the Vics, Kevin was slurping up the new boys on the block, Flay was putting up with my random drop ins. You always had a friend around The Cut on any given evening, particularly if you were willing to expand south to the river and the Nash. Empty buildings where we might hack together a Hamlet. Youth, hope, possibility, immortality, immunity to consequence. Now we know what it means to be broke. Fuck it. Lots of us have progeny. There are new young communities where sentences all end with upflection and opinion is fact. We have ceded our place in the shadowy lights, as is the natural order. I don’t feel squeezed out but I no longer feel like I’m the centre. Last time I was at The Pit Bar a friend of mine turned on me for no reason. We have barely spoken since. It was the end of an age of innocence.
Today I looked at a load of stillages and quoted a client for haulage. That’s the world right now for this theatre kid. I won’t be there to do the job, but I reckon it’ll go smooth and I trust my team in London even if I’ve just had to pull one member. I know my van intermediary from Paris and I know he gets the job done. I’d call him a friend as much as you can ever make friends when you’re running into a wall together on the daily.
I’ve found an events lad in Newcastle who sounds like he’s the real deal to sort the unload. We’ve got a few days to bring it together and I’ll be live for it on my phone, might even drive up to Newcastle from Yorkshire if I’m not confident. Hopefully all will be well though. It’s interesting having all this new stuff to worry about.
AlBarclay 