As my days grow longer (the sun comes up earlier and stays up later), I grow more and more tired of all the different things that struggle with. I grow tired and impatient of the difficulties in living with and interacting with humans. I cannot put away the childish things that I have grow up in as easily as I would like.
I wonder if ever else than coming here would I have found myself in the position of wanting to walk out on myself. I am not entirely sure that my back is going straighten without a crack or a hitch. All part of getting older, I suppose. I can't climb back into the skin I shed.
I don't need a mountain moved. I just need what it would take to do that.
This is going to be a long three weeks between performances I have to help with, the sun stealing my sleep, my own anxieties. They all say I'm doing fine. I'm a liar. Still, I just wish that I could say it's alright, but I can't make it right.
Sunday, May 10, 2009