4.48

 

Theatre is just poetry but longer.

These days theatre isn't even longer,

its all so short now. Attention spans.

Who cares anyway. The form has been

experimented with so hard its unrecognisable.


I don't want the form to be experimented with anymore.

I'm not a good enough writer to have to go back to the original form. You know its going there anyway.


I want to be dead but I don't want to have to kill myself to get there.

No I don't. Why did I say that?


Everyone is sick of me anyway. I'm sick of having to clarify.

I'm sick of having to explain the things I say. I'm sick of

everyone worrying about me and I have to act like I'm not worried

myself. Likely, hopefully, they just don't really care and I'm assuming I matter more than I do. Imagine having to explain this to a family member.


Everything is boring and shit anyway. Who cares.

No point dressing it up in pretension and literary language.

Sit around getting pissed. Drunk or annoyed who cares.

Probably both. Both end the same way anyway feel

good for a bit and angry at myself afterwards.


I want to experiment with the form. Push things

forward into the avant garde but sadly I have no

ideas so I'll probably just dress up some crap that

would have been derivative in the 90s and then

off and be a school teacher for a few years before

I lapse into permanent unemployability.


Everything else is boring anyway. Its boring too but

at least I won't have to pretend I'm enjoying myself.

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