With fewer distractions and responsibilities here in Boston, I realize this part of me oh too well.
Perhaps this is a feature of being alone. Sometimes I see beggars in Harvard and Porter squares wearing strange clothes, and they watch me with lots of intensity in their eyes. Their faces are oily and they hold Au Bon Pain paper cups and rattle them for change. They sit sometimes dazed, sometimes longingly. Intelligent people, I can tell. Just such need. And parts of me tell them telepathically that "I'm not very different from you, you know."
The difference between me and them is just a few more abandonments. That's all. Abandonment is when someone or a group of people decided your lack of value to them. Whatever funny or interesting thing you could offer up suddenly rings hollow and irrelevant.
Sometimes I scream silently that "I refuse to be taken for granted!" But people are fickle, and I'm no different. We all live a fragile existence.
I make little accomplishments here and there. I sang last night and had a bunch of random superficial conversations after the show. Talked to a few musicians then bantered with the Greek sales clerks in the late-night coffee shop nearby. "Are you a 24-hour coffee shop?" I asked, to which one guy said, "For you, I can keep the store open 24 hours." They were amused to guess that I am Japanese.
At a deeper level, the triumphs I gush over are reserved for the mouthpiece of my handsfree Voicestream cellphone. And AIM. Yet, this long-distance amusement can never replace a pair of eyes and the ability to see someone breathe, someone you love and care about.
I checked Berklee's site, and the songwriting workshop is now fully enrolled. I applied a good month ago, and the bill is supposed to arrive in the mail sometime this week. Not certain what will happen, or if they even took me into the program. But if I'm in, it's something I look forward to.
Posted by ruth at July 17, 2002 09:22 PM
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