The Threat of Panic

In Pertutti's. I know I haven't written in here in forever... It is all in the Vermeer.

Anyway, I am under an absolutely unbearable weight of anxiety and tension and sickness. My neck aches and the sky is always spinning with the tingling threat of over-oxygenation never far behind. So, maybe I should carry a brown paper bag with me... Maybe I should go buy a pack today.

Choir elections are going up (I mean "coming up") and they are only the edge of the anvil on my lungs... That and the two term papers and dreadful exams that are all looming on the horizon. (At least my nails are beautiful-- a Roman red!)

Speaking of which, BigSis leaves for Israel on Sunday.

Sola, perduta, abandonata in my head...

Die

You stupid dumb fuck... you don't even deserve this memory... worhtless piece of shit... you deserve this pain and more, worse than death and that is what yo'll have. Worthless moron cunt... And he was always right. Just die now. Die like they've always hoped you would. Die before any more of this. DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie DieDieDie

More of the Same

And once again, losing my mind and fighting the nausea and pounding head and all of this fucked up death wish.

And I never remember anything... Not anything anymore.

Dido & Aeneas

In the waiting foom and trying not to feel anything at all... I have to remember to go to Patelson's before that rehearsal tonight... They better have it.

****************************

Later... And at rehearsal for Dido and Aeneas and wondering which special contacts I should get.

Camille's

In Camille's and once again ashamed of the blurs of memory, but he let me cry on his shoulder and he didn't care that there might have been makeup and it reminds me of what a shit I have been crying over all along. And he hugged me so much and I can't believe I allowed that...

I am so stressed out, as usual, and the semester is completely falling apart work-wise. And then I'm worried about Clover running against me for President... God, what will I do? And everyone is going to be gone next year... They're all going to be gone...

God, I'm so tired...

But E-the-R and I are supposed to go to that Vampire club tonight. I have to remember to find out the info on that later.

And AIR7 told me that he became a vegetarian two weeks ago... What was I thinking?!?!

But God, I am so, so exhausted and sick and wish it were all somewhere else or that I didn't care about holding everything together by the threads I strip it down to (in the name of love!).

And God, everyone around here is so irritating. Why are people so damn annoying? (Far from the force of gravity). And the service here is SO bad. I have been here for twenty minutes and haven't even gotten a drink.

(Better to bleed than not to start...)

On Codeine

And living on stolen time in vocal repertoire. And my head is as broken and screaming as the bloody stitches on my hand, severing my thumb and turning back time. And my fingers look spit on with bubble gum.

And despite the three codeine's I took, my head still hurts... but I feel it softening my limbs. The muscles in my thighs melt away and now my thought seems too tired for thought itself and so I concentrate on the loop of each letter despite the stabbing knife against the back of my brain and a headache that makes my lips bleed.

And my heart hangs suspended even though codeine isn't supposed to speed it up.

Dream-o-Meter: Wooded Cabins

I just remembered a little fragment of another dream...

We were all staying at some hotel that was kind of like a group of cabins connected by a long and winding driveway but with woods in between. The dream was really long. The only two parts I remember were at once point I had gone into the city (I'm not sure where we were) and taken a taxi back-- not a yellow cab though. The driver stopped in the woods before we got to our cabin and he started a conversation and of course, as usual, I was friendly, but then he put his hands around my head and started touching me and I struggled out to run and grabbed my walled out of my bag but then realized that I didn't have my bag. I went back for it and the guy was really calm and pulled it out of my reach, so I ran away without it.

When I got home, I realized the Vermeer journal was in there with the stuff that I had written about ChoirMan, so I panicked. I remembered having to explain why I took a cab and not the bus.

In another part of the dream, there was some party everyone was getting ready for. I stumbled into the cabin before ours by mistake and that girl Rachel (who did GoldenFinch's makeup that time) was there doing someones makeup. And BH was there getting ready in the bathroom. Then I went into the back In the bedroom and some woman (I knew she was prestigious and WHO she was, but I didn't know here personally) said something like "I'm surprised your mom was invited." And I got pissed and said "She received a personal invitation from ----- herself!" But I don't remember whose party it was.

I just remember the cab driver being so calm...

Montauk

And I wonder how anyone could ever have not been in love with Blue... At "The End" with GoldenFinch. And the foam makes a watery lace edged with glittery amber and ivory... Stumbling pebbles lodged in their graves... baking in the sun for my pleasure... Their souls drying, leaving white parched bones.

Deception

One month early...

Anyway, in the cab on the way back from Dr. G. and with a twisted headache as bad as two years ago. And the spiced pink marble outside the window matches the faded ruddy rubbings on my hand (At the corner of Sutton Place and Sutton Square).

The weather is perfect Spring today and the sun beams in gentle colors and whispers with promise, promise, promise. But I know what is happening all too soon... The canvas is changing. The characters are all gone.

The End of the World

Back on The Circle Line in the beaming April heat with a headache that has been with me now through four Advil and five hours...

And we just got back from Rome on Monday (It's Wednesday today) and I have been thinking so much about Kosovo and the three boys trapped there and the never ending intrigues of the world that convinces me that history will forever repeat itself until one day our eccentricities and egotism will lead to the end of humanity altogether.

And that idea doesn't seem to frighten me anymore... There is only a bitter calm and a silent frustration at my own futility. And I can't wait to depart and stare into the baking diamond sketched water and wonder if I'm selfish for pleasure in the face of all of this...

I wonder why it is "Europe" that evokes this in me, and then I realize, again, that I am not European at all... Not in the way I think about the world.

And who knows where the time goes...