Is This How This Thing Works?
I'm going to go ahead and put the announcement on here. It's something that I've been feeling for a long time but I was sort of scared to say in person. Of course I'm not really saying it in person, I'm typing it, and I'm a person. What was I saying? I can't remember, because I'm engaging in an activity that stimulates my frontal cortex, namely typing without stopping to catch a breath or think of the sentence, just typing, or writing if you will.
The reason I'm writing this blog is to announce that I'm leaving New York. I don't want there to be a lot of fanfare, Lord knows no one reads this thing anyway, or at least they don't admit to. Truth be told this blog hasn't been relevant in 10 years. Honest admission, it never was. However, i've been going back and reading old articles of mine and I was pretty damn good.
There's not some complicated answer why I'm leaving. I just don't get energized by the city anymore, the energy that you're supposed to get energized by lately feels like a crowd of people moving past me and I no longer have the stamina to stay with the beat constantly. New York makes me feel tired.
Maybe its the chrohn's disease and the constant feeling of feeling drained all the time. Right now my stomach is putting on a wierd clinic of some sort and i have no idea what it's doing. I wish there was medicine for it that didn't involve things my mom would despise and make a pained face about.
Maybe its the fact that I haven't had a real girlfriend since May 1997. In fact, I'm still in love with that girl from back then and I'd say yes to her in a second if she would have me, but that is just not happening.
Regardless, we all need someone to love who loves us and I just haven't found anyone out here who can or wants to do that for me. I tried explaining this to my girlfriend from 1996/1997 and she said I need to stop focusing on it so much, that there's other kinds of love.
I still love acting but never get a chance to audition anymore and performing in plays seems like a non paying gig - something that I can't possibly afford here - the most expensive city in the world.
Sometimes I feel like I'm caught in the jaws of a thresher. Just tilled constantly and constantly and thrown about. Of course I do have an idea what that feels like since I was in a car accident several years ago where I was thrown about a few times.
Dang. I can't remember where I was going before or if I had a focus or some kind of meaning to what I was saying. I guess I just wanted to write where my heart led and I'm letting it do all the talking right now but unfortunately it doesn't always know what it wants to say at a rate fast enough for it to keep up with my fingers.
These fingers that I wear down by constantly biting the nails. I never could get over that. I'm only thinking of it because I was working with this girl last weekend and she was skinny and desperate seeming (also?) and she liked the fact that I bit my nails because she did it too and in some small way it made her feel less alone.
I think i just hit something on the head. I do feel alone. Alone. It's not a good feeling. In fact it might be the worst feeling. My mom used to describe it as wanting to sit along in the backyard and go dig for worms to eat.
Now that makes me smile. I can still smile in the midst of crisis because...well i don't know why exactly or at least i can't sum up a good solution in a few seconds and as I've stated i have to keep typing until my thoughts and fingers stop and I don't want that to happen so I will continue.
This style of writing that I'm engaging in is something that I thought of years ago in one of my many unfinished books called "Outwards" that I am pretty sure is available to view on my first website - http://www.joshdudley.tripod.com . And the idea is to do pretty much what I'm doing now. If i have to pause to catch a breath or sigh or come back to it later then the writing is done. It's as if I have written all I can do in one breath. Naturally there will be wrongly spelled words and odd turns of the phrase.
I'm reminded now of a similar game I used to play with myself when I was very young. I would ride my bike with my eyes closed and ride towards a nearby ditch and attempt to open my eyes and stop myself at the very last minute before I went into the ditch itself.
You might think thats a crazy game to play or maybe you don't remember what it's like to be 8 years old.
I wish i did. So much ahead of me.
Of course they aren't all golden memories. Even back then I knew what sadness was. I lost my grandfather when I was 5 years old and this is a story i actually wrote about before. anyway. i didn't want my dad to see my cry so i didn't go to the funeral because I know i would have cried there and I wanted my dad to see me as tough because I thought my dad was tough and maybe then he would love me more.
I guess thats what life is really all about isn't it? Wanting someone to love us more.
Love is the engine that keeps us going. Or its the fuel.
It's everything. and now i don't know what to say anymore or whether I should stop.
My stomach feels odd right now. like its a moving living organism. I wish i could make it stop doing that. I wish Jesus would heal me. I've prayed for that so many times and I know hundreds of friends and family members have too.
I wrote this piece because I wanted you to know. I don't know who "you" are anymore. I guess I just wanted to find out who still cares. Who is still out there. Keeping in mind that people who are still out there and people who check facebook regularly to see the announcement and link that I will put up there are a smaller percentage than I would like to think.
I think I've said enough.
Being that I don't have anymore to say.
The End (for now)
The reason I'm writing this blog is to announce that I'm leaving New York. I don't want there to be a lot of fanfare, Lord knows no one reads this thing anyway, or at least they don't admit to. Truth be told this blog hasn't been relevant in 10 years. Honest admission, it never was. However, i've been going back and reading old articles of mine and I was pretty damn good.
There's not some complicated answer why I'm leaving. I just don't get energized by the city anymore, the energy that you're supposed to get energized by lately feels like a crowd of people moving past me and I no longer have the stamina to stay with the beat constantly. New York makes me feel tired.
Maybe its the chrohn's disease and the constant feeling of feeling drained all the time. Right now my stomach is putting on a wierd clinic of some sort and i have no idea what it's doing. I wish there was medicine for it that didn't involve things my mom would despise and make a pained face about.
Maybe its the fact that I haven't had a real girlfriend since May 1997. In fact, I'm still in love with that girl from back then and I'd say yes to her in a second if she would have me, but that is just not happening.
Regardless, we all need someone to love who loves us and I just haven't found anyone out here who can or wants to do that for me. I tried explaining this to my girlfriend from 1996/1997 and she said I need to stop focusing on it so much, that there's other kinds of love.
I still love acting but never get a chance to audition anymore and performing in plays seems like a non paying gig - something that I can't possibly afford here - the most expensive city in the world.
Sometimes I feel like I'm caught in the jaws of a thresher. Just tilled constantly and constantly and thrown about. Of course I do have an idea what that feels like since I was in a car accident several years ago where I was thrown about a few times.
Dang. I can't remember where I was going before or if I had a focus or some kind of meaning to what I was saying. I guess I just wanted to write where my heart led and I'm letting it do all the talking right now but unfortunately it doesn't always know what it wants to say at a rate fast enough for it to keep up with my fingers.
These fingers that I wear down by constantly biting the nails. I never could get over that. I'm only thinking of it because I was working with this girl last weekend and she was skinny and desperate seeming (also?) and she liked the fact that I bit my nails because she did it too and in some small way it made her feel less alone.
I think i just hit something on the head. I do feel alone. Alone. It's not a good feeling. In fact it might be the worst feeling. My mom used to describe it as wanting to sit along in the backyard and go dig for worms to eat.
Now that makes me smile. I can still smile in the midst of crisis because...well i don't know why exactly or at least i can't sum up a good solution in a few seconds and as I've stated i have to keep typing until my thoughts and fingers stop and I don't want that to happen so I will continue.
This style of writing that I'm engaging in is something that I thought of years ago in one of my many unfinished books called "Outwards" that I am pretty sure is available to view on my first website - http://www.joshdudley.tripod.com . And the idea is to do pretty much what I'm doing now. If i have to pause to catch a breath or sigh or come back to it later then the writing is done. It's as if I have written all I can do in one breath. Naturally there will be wrongly spelled words and odd turns of the phrase.
I'm reminded now of a similar game I used to play with myself when I was very young. I would ride my bike with my eyes closed and ride towards a nearby ditch and attempt to open my eyes and stop myself at the very last minute before I went into the ditch itself.
You might think thats a crazy game to play or maybe you don't remember what it's like to be 8 years old.
I wish i did. So much ahead of me.
Of course they aren't all golden memories. Even back then I knew what sadness was. I lost my grandfather when I was 5 years old and this is a story i actually wrote about before. anyway. i didn't want my dad to see my cry so i didn't go to the funeral because I know i would have cried there and I wanted my dad to see me as tough because I thought my dad was tough and maybe then he would love me more.
I guess thats what life is really all about isn't it? Wanting someone to love us more.
Love is the engine that keeps us going. Or its the fuel.
It's everything. and now i don't know what to say anymore or whether I should stop.
My stomach feels odd right now. like its a moving living organism. I wish i could make it stop doing that. I wish Jesus would heal me. I've prayed for that so many times and I know hundreds of friends and family members have too.
I wrote this piece because I wanted you to know. I don't know who "you" are anymore. I guess I just wanted to find out who still cares. Who is still out there. Keeping in mind that people who are still out there and people who check facebook regularly to see the announcement and link that I will put up there are a smaller percentage than I would like to think.
I think I've said enough.
Being that I don't have anymore to say.
The End (for now)
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