I am not insane
I have to take on a secret identity so I may speak my mind freely. Nobody famous. Just working while female. Female while thinking. Thinking while breathing. Breathing while working. All done while not come unraveling.
This beats talking to myself inside my head. Really. You should try it sometimes.
- I am secretly obsessed with angels. As in, I believe in them. Or, I strongly wish they are/were real, even though I am not Christian. I envision them to be the angels in Wim Wender’s “Wings of Desire” (Der Himmel über Berlin). NOT the Nicolas Cage one. Oh, god, no.
- I am agnostic because I am too cowardly to make up my mind. I want to have my cake and eat it too.
- I am a classic insecure overachiever. Psychotic. A bit bi-polar.
- Laziness and fear of embarrassment are the two driving forces in my life.
- I played Lizzie Borden in a play when I was in graduate school. In fact, I played a few other homicidal characters, including Hamlet and one of the women in Unfinished Women Cry in No Man’s Land While a Bird Dies in a Gilded Cage who gets to wield an ICE PICK! (I was totally typecast, I suspected…)
- Being on stage was the only times when I felt completely free. I miss that feeling with a heartache, barely noticeable except during the night, when I am writing to nobody. Like now.
- I also played Billy the Kid (adapted from Michael Ondaatje’s book) and I had the best lines in my acting career:
After shooting Gregory
this is what happened
I’d shot him well and careful
made it explode under his heart
so it wouldn’t last long
was about to walk away
when this chicken paddles out to him
and as he was falling hops on his neck
digs the beak into his throat
straightens legs and heaves
Meanwhile he fell
still tugging at the vein
till it was 12 yards long
as if it held that body like a kite
a red and blue vein out
and the chicken walked away
Gregory’s last words being
get away from me yer stupid chicken
p.s. not insane. That is one of the songs by Sarah Bettens (who imo has the most electrifying voice ever)
p.p.p.s. I am a child of Ervin Goffman. (Actually, I often wonder what Ervin Goffman would say about Social Media. Think he’d have a ball pondering the Presentations of Selves on Facebook?) It is ironic that in this increasingly Schizophrenic world, our selves have to reside in so many different fragments in order to become whole, to stay sane.
You can find me nowadays most often on Instagram; I may have a slight IG addiction I will cop to that. Here are my tumblr with the URL that I LOVE and another tumblr dedicated to polka dots. And of course, I’ve dallied with Foursquare, StumbleUpon, Flickr, PicPlz, HuffPost, Posterous, yFrog and Twitpic — many of these have long been forgotten. What’s yFrog you ask? For the introverts amongst us, I’ve created a Facebook page “Introverts are not shy” as a rallying cry. To make sure I cover the entire Venn diagram, there’s also a Google+ page. Of course I keep multiple Facebook accounts. What do you mean you don’t? One cannot have too many pieces of Horcruxes.
I am addicted to talking to strangers on Twitter even though I am aware of the fact that most of the time I am just talking to a vast vacuum, like in the outer space. I am at peace with it. Incidentally, tweet @ me would be the best way to get in touch with me for we are
Ships that pass in the night, and speak each other in passing,
Only a signal shown and a distant voice in the darkness;
So on the ocean of life we pass and speak one another,
Only a look and a voice; then darkness again and a silence.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow