Last night I found my self in Night, watching Shawn and Rohana be the Old Man and Old Woman from 'The Chairs'. Amidst the chatter about how to further the techniques of acting and movement, I found myself with the strangely familar.

Of two people, together, alone on an island, in a tower, for slow, long, aged years.
Of adsurbism, circles and bondage.
Of love and repulsion, sickness and darling.
Of Waiting.

This is not right.
Given half the chance I'd put a knife in your back and walk away. Breathe our last breath and decide to let the future rush in without even the scent of you. I look at myself and wonder if I need patience and long-suffering, or if I just simply need to wake up to the coffee and keep walking.

I can do either, it's just the wondering wandering process that gnaws at me.
Hurry up and show me what to do.

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In the mean time, I love my job at the Yoga center. I come anytime, I leave anytime, I eat for however long, and do as much yoga as I want. I just wonder if I'm getting paid.

Ha, oh well.