Decoding the Cryptic Writing

I am not going to post part 22 of "the abandoned theatre" yet because I am in a horrible mood. If you don't believe me look at my comments on http://midnightonthursday.blogspot.com/ that I posted today.

I can tell when I am depressed now. I write like that man... he must have been more depressed than I am now to have been writing that way all his life. Not that his scripts or compilations are terrible. They are quite the works. The tone of voice, however, makes me want to slap someone in the face with a cold salmon. Such disrespect, hatred, moaning, groaning, bitch please, you suck, all-knowing, repulsive tone is used that it makes ME want to go kick a baby. (I tried to use humor to lighten the load. But seriously, no babies or spawning fish.)

Now I am going to attempt to show you why I am depressed and cannot write part 22 of "the abandoned theatre". It is because I have no one to talk to. Or that is what they are making me do. They are making me talk to no one.

NO ONE BUT THEM. And guess who can't talk to me? THEM. I don't mean to be disrespectful toward them, but when you come downstairs in the morning and one of them starts to break down in front of you at 7:30 AM right before you have to work... how are you suppose to talk to them? And how can you talk to someone who tears up on a daily basis when you enter the room? And how are you suppose to listen to the other side complain about you and why you are what you are and how (a direct quote mind you)

"This is all your fault."

The instant I told them... it was all about how to make sure I really was, so we went to the man. The man said, after ONE session, 99.9% yes. Then it was tears from them.

They tell me they are tears about how hard my life is going to be from now on. They tell me it is all about how hard it is going to be on me. They don't ever think they are selfish. They don't ever consider that I have been taking this burden since the beginning. They don't ever consider how hard it was for me to tell them. Yes, I talked to them about it. Once. Then I was the selfish one. I was the horrible person. It was my fault.

WELL GOD DAMNIT IT IS MY FAULT.

There, are you happy? I could never say this to them. They already know it is my fault.

Now they don't want anyone to know. They warn me like I am some escaped convict on the loose after killing a number of cops and pregnant women. It is my choice, isn't it? I want to be who I am after years of passing for another and now I have been told to hold myself back for them.

I want to talk.
I I I I I.
Me Me Me Me Me Me.

Who's fault is this?

MINE. I am a selfish bastard because GUESS WHAT?

THIS ENTIRE MESS IS ABOUT ME. I want to talk to someone.

So they tell me to talk to the man. Unfortunatly the man costs me money and time (and only once a week! ONCE A WEEK FOR maybe 45 minutes!!!) How I am I suppose to deal with this?

I want to talk.
I am selfish and I want to talk.
I want to move on.
I want to live.
I want to be outside with my friends.
I want to live on campus and start a relationship.
I want to read books and study dead writers.
I want to start a club and go to anime boston in a costume and totally geek out.
I want to be able to talk to my friends.
I want everyone to talk to me.
I want to talk to my friends and ask them how they are doing.
I want to go to england and the rest of europe, with everyone.
I want to listen to any kind of music I want in my Jeep Wrangler and sing horribly and off-key whithout knowing half the words with my friends.
I want to go to the ocean.
I want to go to THAT place.
The place we were baptised and had our high school slime washed away.
I want to see the old men watch me walk into the water with all my cloths on.
I want to float in the frozen waters for as long as I want.
I want to travel to the past and be myself, before there was myself.
I want to journey to Ancient Greece, Egypt, Rome, Britian, India, China, Japan, South Africa, Brazil, Mexico,
I want to boogie board on Hawaiian waves.
I want someone there beside me.
I want someone to listen to my selfish self talk senselessly into the night about selfish things.
I don't want to make people cry when they see me.
I don't want people to break down everytime I try to talk to them.
I don't want to be silent.

All of these things I must keep to myself because I am NOT allowed to talk to anyone.

But they didn't say anything about writing anything that anyone could just happen to read by chance and understand why I don't want to write part 22 of "the abandoned theatre" at this time because I am a depressed and selfish, yet unique, individual who respects the theatre and its actors.