Mar 11 2009
city, part II
hings have taken a turn, for me. But I expected that.
I mean things generally do, I have a very sensitive personality – I wonder why that doesn’t happen. Just because I’m on vacation, it doesn’t mean I can take a vacation from myself.
Things got sort of rocky there for a second, during the play. 6 hours long, and brutal. About father-daughter relationships, and marriages that failed and abortions, and the agony of life.
HOW CAN I BE MORE LIKE AN ATOM? It was a good point. I bet O’Neil had the same thinking I had, life must be so easy to be an amoeba.
And definitely that too, the part about LIFE. LIIIIIIIIIIIIII(phe) – it is essentially one long LIE with a sniffle of anguish at the end.
Ouch.
I cried during the play, not only about this actress that was just absolutely tormented, who I’ve known actually, who I used to hang out with when she was dating my uncle. I also cried because, of course I related on some level, and I missed my Dad oddly, but there were some other things.
It was a lot of emotions, all compartmentalized into those 6 hours – observing a character’s life over the span of 30 years. How fascinating.
After the play, I was still crying. I gave my uncle a really nice big hug, after standing and watching so many of his fans come up and congratulate him. What an achievement – adapting a 350-page play and re-writing the entire thing. Entirely amazing.
I cried into his shoulder in gratification. I’m not sure he appreciated that. But we’ve always had a strange relationship.
STRANGE interlude (name of the play).
So, we didn’t talk until much later that night. And it was nice. I like crying in shared ideologies. I hope you thought it was nice too.
It was just soooo many things! The play, and my Dad being sick, and my ex contacting me while I was on vacation, and missing this complete asshole from the week before…I mean, I really did just break down.
But I really needed a friend, so thank you. Really.
Walking around the city was amazing last night. Being in the Tribune building, even if for a moment. Younger dreams realized. Being a newspaper journalist in Chicago, in that beautiful building. The plan. I mean, not possible (the paper part) but so great to be there.
I have a few hours to myself while you go to class. I think I’m going to go and explore some more.
