October 31, 2007

Earliest moments of Halloween, the moon appropriately like a crookedly sliced pumpkin, orange and low over the mountains. VW rehearsal a thousand % improvement over last night, at least in terms of volume of lines remembered. In other ways, I think, too, Even when we are at full power, the play is going to be three hours long. What audience can endure that? We may be better or worse than I think we are. Right now there is no way to know. It is very late, and I have nothing to say, but I keep typing because I am too jazzed to go to bed.

Evening.
The degree of stress in my life now becomes measurable when it is relieved a little, and I can make comparison-- such as this morning, when I managed to write some in the café, and the tension of not writing relaxed for the moment. Sexual release goes through my body like a drug, as if I had been a clenched fist suddenly unclenched. I don’t know how the celibate keep from becoming murderers. I can’t live this way for very long. When I think of the lives I might have chosen which would have presented these conditions perpetually, I thank God for the choice actually made. People–and this includes me–do not understand the wide swathes of what is apparently nothing going on necessary for any creative work.