I sometimes feel myself slipping away, a case of mental detachment from the shell shock of life, constantly being barraged by the slings and arrows of this so called outrageous fortune.
And my out is nowhere to be found, still. I’m constantly being asked by others what’s my status? Have I heard any news? Have I made a decision?
Part of what weighs on my decision is because of the kind of person I am, I will always force myself into uncomfortable situations that stretch my limits, sometimes to the breaking point, sometimes causing me to spiral down like a meteorite losing the war with gravity and plummeting into the atmosphere, making one final flash, one existential cry before it is exhausted, atomized, forgotten. So it’s not like going to do this somewhere else will really help.
This is where I am: this dusty, careworn stage set in Oklahoma, sepia tones creeping in around the procenium arch giving an aire of indistinctiveness, the background fading to a blank, stark-white cyclorama, the characters losing their depth as the blocking on the deck begins to resemble bas-relief. The show has grown old, and nobody comes to fill the house anymore.
And there I stand, center stage, watching as the world around me flakes and peels away like rotting skin on bone, waiting for the scene to change. And, watching myself from front-row center, I see how the degradation and de-evolution of the scene is beginning to affect me… no, infect me, as though the rot in this image were slowly beginning to take me over, until I am nothing more than the faded image on a cardboard cutout, an idiot with a smile on my face, blissfully unaware that I have succumbed to the duldrums of my home city, letting this slow lancor absorb me like a cocoon of confusion and half-sleep.
And so, I have made a decision, but before I can announce that, I have to wait for others to make their decisions. And so I continue to be a pyre, the burning man, waiting for my chance to escape the flames, lose this diseased backdrop, and finally, truly… run and hide.
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