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Monday July 03, 2000, 01:03

my head is too heavy and i am having trouble keeping it on my neck. the air outside my apartment is cool. the air inside my apartment is hot and wet.

i danced all friday night. all night. i walked home tired and invigorated. well, i walked to the bus that was running at 5:30 in the morning because the trains weren't running because of construction. i left the club where the music was still thump thump thumping away, left the party with the large (large, like, muscles bigger than their heads, sweaty pecs and arms) men dancing with each other, similar men dancing with frail girls with white tanktops and little shorts and dresses. left the party with its share of raver kids with their visors and beads on their wrists and big pants. i must have been smiling when i left the club. my legs hurt and my ears were ringing, but it was fun and i felt alive.

what was it though? was it what i was looking for? the thing that will keep me here? my place? my niche? no. like the Phish show the next evening, a pretty picture was paiting. lights on the stage. more importantly, lights on the stage facing the audience, bathing the thousands watching in colored stripes of light, bathing the audience, and bringing them into the space, the space which was, before that point, inhabited only by the musicians. by shining the lights out, the audience was drawn in, and the entire venue became one big pulse of energy.

the sky lit up with the drunken dance of a thousand colored fireflies as a glowstick war erupted over our heads. stick and rings glowing neon red yellow green and blue were flunk up and around sailing through the air in a collective show of chaos and some such thing. group instinct dictated that the time was right, and where moments before the only lights in the sky came from the stage or the stars above (dare say, nature's own light show?) the sky was alive with a dancing rainbow.

as impressive as the concert lighting was, the glowing shower was more so, if only because it was created by community and sent back to community in the spirit of community.

the point? oh right, the point. getting to the point, i realize that what i am doing now is looking, trying to reclaim that past that, now one year gone, still lingers in my head and in my not so distant memories of my friends, my school, and the life that i had there. i was happy there. with the people there.

i've said a lot that i want to go off and meet new people. and that is exactly what i am doing. but, i must learn to be more discriminating. i've forgotten that there are a lot of different people in the world and that i won't like all of them. and even ones i like i might not end up bein friends with. and that's ok. but i can't forget that, or i'll end up with friends i don't like.

i miss like minded people, and mutual respect. i think that in depriving myself of theatre, which was my one outlet for creativity and one true inlet for friendships, that i've been denying myself the kind of human interaction that i've needed. not just the quantity of it, which i have been getting better at, but the quality of it. what's it like? who are they? what are they like? do you like them? do they like you? these are important questions that never seemed to come up in the past.

and they are so often on my mind now.

thinking more, moving back to new york will not reclaim any of my lost feelings of companionship. however, i might have more of a chance to find my niche, to reclaim a space as my very own. while the opportunity might be available here, i don't trust the city enough to let me in, and i don't see myself staying here long enough to make it worth my while to cultivate anything meaningful. in six month's time i might be gone.

he rode, i rolled. travelling down the pike lane. her hair, pastel blue. i turned to the right as i rolled and smiled. looked in her eyes. she smiled back. "i like your hair." it was as simple as that. she smile. "thanks."

and i rolled off.

we spoke tonight, simone and i. i said what we both knew. and it seemed so very easy to break up with her, given that we weren't going out. we knew that it was over, that it was ending, and that it had ended. it was done with no hard feelings and some lightheartedness as well. i hope. my intention was to not fuck this one up as i have so many in the past. i think i might have succeeded. time will tell.

time. seems like i am at the mercy of time these days. time is what is keeping me at my job and away from where i think i should be. time is what lies between now and the screaming of my alarm clock.

blasted modem. time is keeping me from high speed internet as well.

what exactly was that i saw out of the corner of my eye, passing up over the candle and out the window? a ghost of the theatre i used to do, haunting me back to the arts, perhaps.

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