Good evening friends. I've nothing really to write...but I feel a need to fill the void that exists because no one else is blogging. That's all right I guess. Okay...so I think the time has come to address my fat and complete lack of discipline. I know I'm not as fat as I once was. Not even as bad as I was at Flaming Gorge but I know the potential is there to get that bad again. The problem is I wake up in the morning convinced that this will be the day that I will do better. I will consume less calories...I will get on a treadmill...I will lift weights. At the end of the day...no such luck. This creates a dread feeling of hoplesness. I'll never be able to drop the excess pounds. The problem is I like eating. I really do. I always have. I remember even as a child, looking foreward to each meal. It didn't matter what it was. I think that if I took no pleasure in eating then it wouldn't be such a problem...but I do. I kind of enjoy working out as well though...that's the funny thing. I certainly don't hate it, but I've come along a little problem. I get myself all ready to go. I get dressed. I get my music...I go down to the weight room, and find that someone is already on the treadmill. I find this to also be incredibly discouraging. So now I don't even get ready. I don't do anything. I eat...I don't excercise, and I"m getting naked on stage in three months...okay five months, but still...could I lose the weight? yeah...I could...will I? Well that's the real question. I certainly won't if I don't get off my lazy ass and go do it. The other problem is that I can't set a schedule for it. Between work, and LVLT...I have no regular schedule whatsoever... I might get into a great routine...and then rehearsals will start. There it goes. That's what happened last time. I was actually doing all right with it until I got into the full Private Eyes swing of things. Oh it's all nutty. The real funny thing is it's probably incredibly uninteresting. This is why I should just keep a private blog that no one reads. NOt cause it's private...just boring. Oh well, it's something...none of you other shlubs has written anything for two days...so there.

It's an interesting dichotomy to hate my job so much, yet still feel so lucky to have it. I love that I make enough money to live on. Especially since I was trained since youth to believe that it would be impossible to do so without a college degree. Oh well. There are a lot of things I was trained to believe that I question now. Even that is misleading. I don't even really question it anymore...I just assume that there is a lot of bullshit out there. Unfortunately bullshit runs very deep and thick in this world. I was religiously trained from a very young age that I should feel guilt for so many things. I don't. I was taught to believe certain things that I just don't. I think the only commandment should be..."Thou shalt not commit physical, emotional, or mental pain on another human being." Even that one I would have broken...many times I'm afraid. But it's the only one that I can honestly feel bad about. I can't bear the thought of hurting someone. Although I do it. I hate it. I just wish we could all live happy, and peaceful, and rich, and under water. yeah...under water would be cool.

Never never never never never never never never never let FEAR be your motivator. No decision is a decision.

Ah love...everyone wants it...everyone craves it. What so few realize is that they already have it. Someone, somewhere, loves you...and quite often that person is much closer than you realize. Everyone is usually meloncholy at the close of a show. It's a natural part of the process. We mourn our loss...that's also part of the process. The meloncholy this time was heightened by greater loss. Oh well...he's not dead. We are all in too much of a hurry. We have grown up in a microwave, fast-food, drive-thru-instant breakfast, whirlwind, not enough time in the day sort of world. We push buttons instead of plows. But the speed of life has stolen it's quality. I refuse to let go of the quality. For those of you who want it all right now...too bad. Right now is the best part of right now...and not having whatever it is you think you need is also part of right now. There is no pain in the world so great that it should ruin tomorrow. There is no sorrow so full that it should steal all laughter. Our lives are made of the little stuff. The salty tears, the lost thoughts, the little smiles and glances and conversations. We are what we search for...not what we find. The joy is the journey itself...the destination is only the next stop to the next search. Whatever you want right now...is within your grasp...so grasp it...and if it slips grasp again...and again...and again. Forever. You are loved...the doors you may feel like closing...can't be closed. So leave them open and see who comes in...if they make you smile, even once, it was worth it. Never intentionally prevent life's moments.

Ah, to be a muse. To ignite that spark of creativity lying dormant in another soul. To hold the head of the artist in your hands...peer into his eyes, and breathe life. To be the soul that another breathes for. Creates for. Lives for. To hold in yourself the courage to inspire, the confidence to destroy, the beauty worthy of worship. None for me thanks.
Ah, to have a muse. To create for that one person or thing. To know that the power exists in the universe to make the universe whole...at least within your own aching soul. To see beauty enbodied. To close your eyes and taste life. To know that life is worth every breath you take...because another exists. No thank you. I'll pass.
You see, both are prisons of themselves. One to have power...one to release it. And the feelings empowered both by being and having a muse are beautiful and wonderful and wasted. We all have within us that spark, that universe, that power of God himself to create beauty. We hold our creations like diamonds. I wrote a song for another person once. It was a pretty good little tune. It meant the world at the time. She loved it, we got married. I no longer remember the song. I'm still however, very much in love. There is nothing better than to be self inspired...and if that doesn't workthen to be self-disciplined. You see...art is work. It's the work that offers the reward. To have inspiration thrust on us by a muse is false...is temporary. What happens when the newness of the muse wears off...and it will wear off. Then what has become of the muse. So neither to have...or to be...but to discover within ourselves...that is the source...the greatest power of all. I love all of you. My love is my muse. My pain is my muse. My anger is my muse...and these are all mine and mine alone.

We guess...we dance...we pretend...and we wake up and do it again. Our lives are so filled with meaning in the fruitlesness of it all. Everything is trivial...and that is so phenominally important. To see..to sing...to fight for nothing...and love the reward of nothing that it yields. We laugh...we cry...we hope...we die. We try not to die while dying. We try not to laugh while crying. Every second of every day we compose the notes of our life. The symphony of our soul. The hope of our dreams, the dreams of our days gone by to pennies per minute jobs that offer no reward other than the means to keep dreaming. So keep dreaming. You've earned it. Remember to remember. Obscure memories will always make you smile. Somethings are best left unsaid. Some places to hide are yours alone. You don't always have to invite another person to your sanctuary. There is no risk in entering. Rise above. Think above. There are no rules to be broken because all the rules are phrased poorly. THe shortest distance between points is not a straight line. It is...well...it's...well, it's for you to discover. I LOVE ALL OF YOU.

I sit and listen to music. I should be doing something a bit more active. My father always told my that I should work my mind so that I wouldn't have to break my body. My father works fifty hours a week with no overtime at very hard physical labor. He's a miner. Most of you probably didn't know that miner's existed anymore. They do. My father is a living testament to a dead age. He never wanted my body to feel like his does all the time. I got terrible grades in school and it frightened him. He couldn't figure it out. He knew I was smart enough to do the work. I would have long conversations with him on any topic I was currently studying. He thought I was too bored for school. Truth is I was too lazy. So he wanted me to not be lazy then...so I wouldn't have to work hard in the future. The future is now. I don't work hard. Kinda hard, sometimes. But not really. So I don't work my body, and as a result my body is fat. He was absolutely trim until he was forty-eight years old and age caught up with him. His body is broken. He is the smartest man I have ever met. I've met a lot of men. So now, I sit and listen to music. And I write. I should be on a treadmill. I should eat just a little less. I should watch my health. Instead I watch my internet. I get more enjoyment out of writing than almost anything. I've noticed a trend in myself. I surround myself with intelligent people. I've never really thought about it...but somehow I think it's not by accident. I find people much like myself. People more capable of greatness than they actually achieve. You all amaze me. Truly. We are not the rulers of the world we were told we would be. We are not the leaders of tomorrow. I think this is because we were never looking for leaders in the first place. We are intellectual hedonists. We masturbate our brains. But we ask...where is the real mind fuck? So trent hurt himself...to see if he could feel. Then Johnny copied him, but did it better, then died. I think that's so cliche. THere are other things to feel than pain. But then again I've always mainained that we like our pain. Pain isn't pain if we ask for it. I think we are searching for something. I think we are all searching for the same thing. I think I know what it is...but I'll not say yet. All I know is that we've been misled to believe that in order to find it...we must have pain. Oh well. We are a desensitised youth who're losing the youth part. So my friends...who by into the pop myth of cool cynisism...goodnight...continue to search. IF you feel you must bleed to see color...if you must hurt to feel...if you must ache to enjoy...or drink to ignore...then I say continue to bleed, hurt, ache and drink...even if it's not what you are looking for, it's still part of the search. But remember in the searching, to breathe, to listen, to have a moment of silencefor your own lost innocence, and this above all...have fun. I love all of you.

The best of both worlds. That's what I thought I had tonight. How could it go wrong...football and boobs. Monday Night Football at the world famous Olympic Garden. How was I to know that both would distract the other. I love boobs...I love football. Come to find out...not really both at the same time. It's a bad idea all together. I must say the Boobie Parade was one of the most surreal moments of my recent memory. The three of us laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. You see at half time they have 1 dollar lapdances. It's not really a lapdance though...more of just a nipple in the eye. For a dollar you get to become momentarily blind. This is fine I guess...except they have every single girl in the place parading topless...going from table to table poking men in the eye with their nipples for a buck. The men seemed to really like this. Halftime never seemed so long. It was the most unarousing bare breasted moment of my life. The game was great however...at least for me...when I wasn't distracted by beautiful naked women. My brain was at war with itself...nobody won. I lost money...I got a nipple in the eye. Good thing I wear glasses. Ha ha...guess I fooled her.

Last night I wrote a beautiful blog. I loved every word of it. As I attempted to publish my computer crashed...so there was no blog in the end. I'm sure this is a great metaphor for something, but I'm too tired to think of one...so I'll leave that too you. I truly want to write tonight...but I'm too tired. Show opened tonight. What can I say...my cast was great. I love them..I love you. I really do. Goodnight. I'll say more tomorrow.

So today (yesterday actually) was my brother's birthday. He's thirteen now. There are seventeen years between us. I have not been home to celebrate his birthday since he turned two. That's what that kind of birth spacing does to siblings. I also didn't call him today. I forgot. That's right. I forgot my own brother's birthday. I remebered while I was at work...he was at school. But when I got off work I had rehearsal. It's all I could think about. The show. So for the show I didn't call my brother. Not even a small phone call to let him know that I remebered. I couldn't because I didn't. I'll make this up to him, in whatever small way I can. He'll understand. Or at least he'll tell me he does. That doesn't really matter though. I don't understand. I only understand how I feel about it now. And how I feel is...yes guilt...yes dissapointment in myself...but ultimately...Goddammit we had a good rehearsal tonight. For the first time in the run...I saw some wonderful theatre, consistently happening before my eyes. Just a couple more and we'll be ready to open. I don't know when or how or why, but theatre truly has become my one true religion. For this I'll burn in hell...I'll miss my family...I'll forget birthday's and anniversaries, and god knows what else. I can't help it. I love what happened in that tiny little strip mall space that we call a theatre. One day...I'll make my peace with everyone. I owe a lot of apologies. Perhaps someday...until then...
I love all of you.

Ah finaly, a return to my wonderful blank page. I've been absent...as is bound to happen now and then, but I'm back. I was reading through T.J.'s blog and thought about something he wrote. He said he's afraid his life won't turn out the way he want's it too. I say to that...who's ever does? Even with the most meticulous planning I think we find ourselve asking...all thi time...how did I get here? How did this person end up in my life? How di this happen...and I say thank God for that. What would life be without the surprises? Everyone of you...is a surprise in my life. You all are unplanned. God bless you for that. Three years ago...I was getting ready to gather the resources to start a theatre group in Utah. Now I'm here. Life didn't turn out like I'd planned. Thank God for that. Now I'm here...yes I have plans. Grand ones...I will work toward them. Life will change. So go T.J. Go and find your own success. Because your success can only be yours. Your failures can only be yours as well. There is no standard of measurement. You'll never know when you get either. Success will never feel like it, and failure is never an option. As long as you are breathing and fighting for something you haven't failed. You are the only judge of succes and failure...and there will always be someone who disagree's with you on both counts. You'll do whatever you do.We all do. As for me...I'm an incredible success in some aspects and a miserable failure in others. In the end who cares. I'm breathing. You all mean the world to me. The theatre will survive without me...but not me without it....I love all of you.

Granted the search for perfection is an exercise in futility, but I'm a glutton for punishment. Goddammit I want to do perfect theatre. That's all. I look at production photos, from these small theatres all over the country and I ache to be part of something like that. I wish that I could dedicate all of my time to one thing. I wish I could wake up in the morning and go to the theatre and stay there untill I drop, then wake up and do it again the next day. I'm sure everyone has a motivating desire, but I swear to God mine is all consuming. I need to be there. I need to do better.

So another day closes on my life. Another day I'll never get back again. Some days that's okay. Today...all in all...no loss. Nothing super out of the ordinary today, but maybe that's okay too. In the end I will look back on many more ordinary days than extraordinary. I look back on the greatest moments in my life and very few of them come with fanfare. Most of them are simple, quiet, very ordinary moments that caused extraordinary feelings. There are times when things happen, that don't mean a thing, that mean everything. I think about my friends. All of you. There are a lot of you. There are more of you who don't read my blogs than do. However, read these or not...I know you. I miss you. I don't remember the moment that any of us first became friends. There is not a single one of you that stands out as a single great moment in my life, but knowing you are out there...knowing that you are doing...creating...living...and breathing...That brings greatness to all my moments. Achieve. Find. Discover. Uncover. Breathe for god's sake...just breathe. I think that all of us have something inside. Something that you don't show...because you are afraid of it. I'm pretty sure that it's your own greatness. I want to see it. I want your insides. Not for your sake, but for mine. All of you...every single one of you...are better than you believe. I know this. Stop not being great. Even if you don't...I LOVE ALL OF YOU.

Some nights I just can't write. I can see inside my mind the words, and on the screen they just aren't right. They just don't write. I've tried my fiction blog four times now...and tonight...it just remains empty. So instead, a thought on that. About three years ago, I went into my univers. A universe I created...a very dark place with people who worship me like God. Bad things happen there. This is a paramount Universe...based on the title of a short play that takes place there. Some days the people who live there shout at me...I can't contain them. Other days they whisper, and on some days...like today...I have to beg, even one of them to speak to me, and they don't. I think...no...I'm almost certain, that I'm afraid to visit some of the people who live there. I'm afraid to go to some of the places that are there already. Something I can't explain is...even though it's all in my head...it isn't really. This is a very real place...with very real people. Their stories surprise me. They frighten me...and fill me with joy. The people there have very dark secrets, and are sometimes reluctant to tell me. There are many doors to this universe. I think I have found many of them in my sleep. I have honestly dreamt of this place...and places in this place. I have been to the swamp, though only on the outside. I can't explain to you what this means, but it's not good. Tonight though...they are all quiet. I hope only sleeping, though I think not. I think Maddox is up to something bad. I think Dominique is afraid. I think Aaron is crying, and I think...well...Whatever is going on...they are all to preoccupied to let me come with them tonight...so tonight my fiction blog remains empty...and I think tonight...that will have to be okay.

You, me, and the rabbit. Tonight we're going to party like it's 1899. Complete with ice blocks and horse and buggies. Do you think they had toga parties in the old west? Do you think women ever flashed their tits? Do you think there were orgies in the wagon trains? Or masturbation? How did we get where we are? Does the past indicate the direction of the future...can we change it...I pray God we're not too late...but the rabbit doesn't care. He just wants to party. Orgy...with or without penetration?

I sit in front of my computer, smelling incense, listening to stolen music. I think of all of you. I read some of your words...those of you who write words. You all touch me. I sit at the hub of my own personal wheel. I think of all of the people who are meaningful in my life, and realize that a majority of them don't even know each other. They probably never will. In my heaven...you all do. We are all friends. We laugh...we work. We are all the same as we are now...only better. My heaven has bowling alleys. My heaven has beautiful warm lakes that you can swim in. My heaven has barbecue pits. My heaven has books, and playstation, and music. Mostly my heaven has all of you. Goodnight to you...

Today in the great U.S. state of Florida, a man was put to death. He killed an abortion doctor, and the doctor's bodyguard. Strapped to his death gurney he urged like minded individuals to do the same, and spoke of his reward in heaven. Outside the prison, Security was heightened with extra law enforcement officers and bomb-sniffing dogs. Outside of a few protesters, this entire event was largely met with apathy. Cameron Diaz broke her nose and you can't fucking get away from it.
I love all of you.

I used to write. Not a little blog now and then, but really write. A lot. Not so much anymore. There are a lot of things I used to do. I once wrote a character in a play who posed a theory...he surprised me when he said it. I don't know my own personal feelings on the topic, but he makes a good point. Whether this character is right or wrong...well...I think that is in the heart and mind of each individual to decide. He believes it. He said..."There is no such thing as love...just attention." He goes on to explain. Of course everyone who listens to his theory blows him off...no one listens...no one wants to hear such a terribly unromantic thing...I am not a romantic. I can have moments...but life slaps me far to hard in the face far too often, to really believe in "romance" Attention. Whose attention do we crave...why? Is love lost when the attention paid dissapears? Mrs. Loman..."Attention must be paid" Willy Loman was not loved any more or less than at any given time in his life...but the attention he craved had dissapeared. Erica and I are always at our worst when we don't pay enough attention. I do believe in love...but I think that romantic love is an overused term. I believe for the most part that romantic love truly is lust. Love takes time. A lot of time. Love at first sight is a crock. Hard on's at first sight...well that's another thing altogether now isn't it. I believe in familial love...only because the only way I could tolerate my family at all...is because I love them...and God knows I don't give any of them enough attention. They crave it though. They want my attention. I sometimes find that I would like theirs as well...hhhmmm. I love my friends. I love the attention they give me. I love that they would also like my attention. People make connections. Billions of little threads linking people. One to another. Six degrees of seperation indeed. You can't meet another person without that person changing the course of your life. What a wonderful world. A world of unmet potential. A world of perpetual everyday failures. What are we willing to sacrifice...what are we willing to gain? What is worth fighting for? And is it really? Beyond religion...beyond hope...beyond love...beyond life, and death and blood and songs...all we have is what we create of ourselves. In the end...alll we have is what we leave behind...because we leave behind everything. What are we creating? How many days go wasted into the void. When we look back...what have we destroyed? Everything is trivial...except attention, connection...love and creation...the rest is lost to time and circumstance...I crave attention from all of you.