Today I went to see a stage reading of one American play. During the play something occurred. Not on stage, though. All of a sudden I have started to cry. Watching the play, tears pouring down my cheeks quietly.
I have realised it was not the play that made me cry this evening. The play was neither that bad nor that sad. My thoughts were elsewhere, I did not even follow the play as I should. Self pity sick? Nope. Becoming an EMO? Oh, c'mon! Speaking seriously now. Some things are turning slightly too bitter... and that is what has caused the tears.
I remember a great performance I have seen in Helsinki. Performer LOIS WEAVER (in her show called Tammy) asked her audience, if we have ever written a letter we have later decided not to send. I usually do not feel like talking about my private life and my troubles infront of theatre audience, yet in this case... Lois (well, Tammy) seemed really kind and warm. Or perhaps I just needed some odd comfort, heh. Yep, Tammy, I actually happen to have some letters I have never sent. Lois said she would give me her e-mail address later, should I send those couple of letters to her. That is theatre; she has never given me her address. Too bad.
So those letters have remained unsent. There is just too many letters never sent in my life. Good as well as bad things. People I miss and I am afraid to tell this to the people. Wishes. Observations. Feelings. Decisions. Things I am so afraid to utter: should I tell this or not at all? Will I fuck things up (no matter how fucked up they already are) if I utter this? Now again it seems I am facing some very hard decision... so hard, not a pleasant one in this case... totally suitable for a letter, perhaps...
What on Earth should I do?