Sweet Nothing

From my new show, The Horrible Time.
Two young lovers, in bed:

"Let's play a game."


"How do you think you're going to die?"

"What do you mean? Die when?"

"Whenever. Whenever your time is. How do you think it's going to happen?"

"I don't know, do you know how you think you're going to die?"

"I think a car. A car wreck. Pretty certainly. Some days I think I'll be run over."


"I don't know, just a feeling, I guess."

"That's really scary."

"Yeah, it's why I won't learn how to drive. I refuse. But I still might get run over."

"I usually just think I'll die by suicide."

"really? How?"

"I don't know. I don't know if i could really do it. I never picture actually doing it, just that I'm the one who does it."


"After that, then I guess AIDS."


"I mean, yeah. Probably, you know?"



"I'm really sorry."

"Me too."

I was going to make a list of things I'm not I'm not sorry for. But I don't want to brag, I think.

Suffice it to say that certain days you get a lot of positive feedback.
And certain other days people really want you to feel shitty.
It's hard. It's tempting to trust the opinions of people you don't respect.

Every single detail of the last month laid bare: we all talk about generosity but no one really pracctices it. We're in a recession. We are worried about survival, or something. i was talking with JohnJoseph today about queer art and how it searches and explores the capacity of the individual, identity, and community. Capacity being, like, the ability to withstand something, the quantity within which you can live your lfe.

La JohnJoseph to me, tonight, in another encouraging pep-talk: "People without personalities are just jealous of people with personality disorders."

My art is about the capacity to have a feeling. How much of a feeling can you feel? I feel, I'm told, exceptionally. I feel big feelings. Sometimes more than one at the same time. I make room for cognitive dissonance.

This is on the list of things I'm not apologizing for.

1 comment:

Richert said...

this morning when read this i felt so far away from it. like i might be a person who doesn't really feel. like i might envy people with personality disorders.

then i had some coffee and conflict and went crazy and remembered that i'm 24 and very close to an edge. and that i think i'm going to get aids. maybe edges, plural.

and i felt very close to it all the sudden.

you don't need to bring dance clothes tonight... we're just gonna smoke and play with camera angles in my house ;-) maybe make a real dance... who knows...