The Judas Kiss

Thank God its no longer last week. And yet...couldn't time just not advance any furthur...?

I finally made a few chips in my very thick shell of writer's block. Very lame chips, but hey, its progress, right?

I also talked to Clément, my very best french friend in Paris. He's in the theatre troup that I was a part of and they are mounting a new show, "Nous, les Héros" or "We, the Heroes". He sent me a recording of the opening sequence, just hearing all their voices, ohh it made me so homesick for Paris. Especially since I've been feeling so detached and empty lately. I feel very far away, so its been so easy to reminisce (sp?) about gay old Paris. But of course the truth is I felt disengaged there as well, but there I had the excuse of being a foreigner and therefore a convenient excuse. Handy, right?
At least I felt alive. At least I cried and felt and loved and partied like a PERSON. I feel like I just dig my grave deeper every day now, I feel so muddled and frozen. Every thing I do I have to bargain with myself. Maybe I'm just crazy, but I feel so compromised. I don't know. That doesn't even make sense. The point is, talking to Clément was so nice. France picked up a few points today (it has been losing lots of points every day due to no word from Hervé - not his fault, I just blame the whole country).

Five hours of Tech rehearsal tonight and you know what I did? NOTHING. Didn't go onstage once, didn't even play the flute. It was BO-RING. I took a nap and finished The Judas Kiss by David Hare. Which was so not the most constructive thing for me to be reading. Great writing though. Lots of delicious Oscar Wilde witicisms, which are invented but very convincingly Wilde.
Also,
"In prison I had the chance to read the Christ story. Over and over. It seemed to me the greatest story I ever read. But it has one flaw. Christ is betrayed by Judas, who is almost a stranger. Judas is a man he doesn't know well. It would be artistically truer if he were betrayed by John. Because John is the man he loves most."
also,
"Ideally, I like to drink anise. My favorite anise is the second. I drink it not because it makes me sleep - nothing makes me sleep - but because at the moment I drink it I believe that I shall sleep. An illustration of the perfect usefulness of science. The potion necessary to make me sleep does not exist. But the potion that provides the illusion that I shall, does.
Belief is everything.
Faith is everything.
It is the same with love.
The vulgar error is to think that love is a kind of illusion. It is the fault of bad poets who encourage this mistake. 'I am completely enraptured,' lovers say, as if somehow they were being deceived. When the affair ends, they say, 'I have been stripped of my illusions' When they cease to love they say, "oh I see clearly now'.
The reverse is the truth. The everyday world is shrouded. We see it dimly. Only when we love do we see the true person. The truth of a person is only visible through love. Love is not the illusion. Life is."

Now there's a topic for debate.