This was originally written pre-ADHD diagnosis, in the summer of 2007.
Looking for to fill my creative well until my cup runneth over. With a smoke and a laugh. Feeling sticky sweat. Looking to bathe in the unbridled energy of people who believe in me. Despite myself.
Looking for a sleep that hasn’t come since I tried checking out hours ago. Eyes closed. Head open for business. Soul a gaping wound. Looking for to fill my God-shaped hole. Wandering. Wondering. Fighting to live the Art of Faith amongst all the dark voices conspiring once again to eclipse the love light.
Three more hours then back to the factory where we make the laughing gas for all the unsuspecting viewers of the Nickel-and-dime-odeon basic cable lot. Three more hours til the Santa Clarita heat that broils the underbelly of my personal hell — being surrounded by the undead, staring down the barrel of love fallen, torn between stopping the nails in the chalkboard of my head with one trigger or making the blind and fantastic leap into the Brave New World of my true passion – directing.
Praying out loud, to drown out the noise that just won’t stop. Scratching and crawling, at the door, begging – just stop enough to let in Little Joy again. Just for a minute.
All my absurd Spinal Tap life, the broken dial, stuck on eleven, scaring them all away. Fumbling to find zero. Just for a minute?
It’s three o’clock and no one is around. Just a bang and a clatter as an angel hits the ground.
Too late. Time to rise again to make everyone else’s dreams come true. The dead horse needs beating again. Rewind. Repeat. God, make it stop. Just for a minute.
Want to be the song that I hear in my head. Here’s the mash-up currently in circulation:
Where’s the girl with the kaleidoscope eyes? Just can’t get enough of that lovey-dovey stuff. Why she had to go I don’t know, she wouldn’t say. I believe in yesterday. Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see. It’s getting hard to be someone but it all works out. My mind is not for rent. To any God or government. Always hopeful, yet discontent. Know changes aren’t permanent. But change is.
God, make it stop. Are you in the room? Are you in my head?
People don’t say hello often enough…at least that’s what I’m observing. Looking to have you at hello.
