So, I figured out a few things after feeling like this month was a complete waste.
I expected that writing about all that stuff from my past would be cathartic, would help me to get past some thing that have happened even recently. But, honestly, it just dredged up a bunch of crappy memories and forced me to go into detail about them. So, that was a bust.
Honestly, I think it was the wrong venue. No one-man-show could hold all of that. I needed a novel...a memoir. Trying to stage something without being able to see it or know that people could portray all the emotions there...it's hard. It doesn't work. I would have needed pages and pages of stage direction just to get through it. But I skipped all that. I just let it speak for itself.
Do you know what it said?
*pthththththththtbbbbb* It blew a big raspberry at me. But it waited 29 days to do so.
So...maybe the right sentiment, but the wrong medium.
This is one of those projects they're going to publish after I die and it'll win a Tony or something...ugh.
And now I'm feeling chapped. No wonder, since I basically masturbated onto the page for a month. Blech. But it was a learning experience. I keep telling myself that. Maybe it'll stick.
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Places to visit in my Hometown.
2 days ago
3 comments:
Well, look at it this way: At some point, you felt like it was the right thing to do. Or you thought it would help you in some way. You listened to yourself and you tried it. It sounds like it didn't work out as planned, but that's OK, if you ask me. Who knows, maybe down the road you will find it did help you in some way or teach you something you can't recognize at the moment.
Offer still stands to edit... :-)
Thanks.
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