Drive Me Out of My Mind

I feel like a lit-up lamp that someone just unplugged. How's this working? Where's the battery? This store of 'something' that keeps me from extinguishing even though everyone in the room expects me to?

I got over my cough, almost. My chest feels better and I have to go back to the chiropractor to keep it that way.

I broke up with (for lack of a better and more radical term even though this one doesn't really offend me so I use it anyways) my boyfriend last weekend. i feel like a real dummy for it, too. It just wasn't working, I guess. Not all the way. I think we're remaining on good terms though. I'm an excellent ex-boyfriend. I'm an excellent imaginary boyfriend. I'm an excellent future boyfriend.

Thinking a lot, I guess, about my performance at the HOT Festival. And I only say this because last night was the opening night party for the festival, and I saw everyone else's "teasers" for their shows. Obviously I'm a really insecure and competetive person, but I had a great time. I feel constantly surprised by how queer artists mine similar territory using liike radically different tools. Or the same tools. Or different territory. It's like Venn diagrams and it made me excited.

Ok so the piece is going to be basically, I think, an expansion of Lover, Ferocious but without singing. It's going to be a literal exploration of the impossibility of love between the narrator Billy and his lover Scott who's a wild animal beast who kills and eats people, but also loves Billy a lot too. Also it's about imaginary animals. The form, the piece is going to take is me telling you what the piece is about.

I try to work with things that I would respond to out in the world. In the hopes that, on-stage, you'll respond to them as well.

I am fucking obsessed with that song SATELLITE OF LOVE and this obsessions feels very productive to me.

I guess my cough hasn't gone away all the way.
I'm terrified of not having a job yet.

Also feel the fingertips of the cruelly inevitable universe pushing me down (or are they patting me on the top of the head?). Meet some young artist and fall swiftly in love with a stranger, watch him canoodle with his supermodel boyfriend all night. worry away your sunny days with thoughts of debt and poverty. Drink bitter tea. Exercise.

So listen to the radio. Smoke a cigarette. Same old thing, yeah I know. Everybody does it.

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