Monday, July 16, 2007

The pain, oh the pain -- here it is

This is the worst part: I'm sitting outside of the movie theater because I can't figure out how to sit inside without too much pain -- I've tried moving around and even getting up to stretch, then taking off my shoes because my feet feel swollen, then even my socks because it feels too humid and stuffy in the theater, I hate this theater there's not enough room for my body in the seat but also it's just painful to sit in any theater, really. Then someone gets the person working there to tell me I can't eat and that's the last straw, no actually the last straw is the movie I can't deal with the way men’s bodies are displayed as almost-naked flesh for the director to work out his own desires I mean not work them out just give us some sort of endless pathologization/sublimation like these men are just displaying themselves in something that's supposed to feel authentic but it's just for the director’s kicks, some high-art in-joke but anyway I have to get outside, where I find myself looking at the ant infestation on the water fountain collection, literally hundreds or maybe thousands of ants crawling up I guess six metal fountains on the edge of what looks like a miniature sports field of some sort only too carefully manicured and in four of the water fountains there's pigeon shit in carefully delivered rows. I'm glad the pigeons won't get sick from the water they drink, but I'm not sure about everyone else.

Anyway, I think of eating while sitting on the toilet because the bathroom has a better cooling system, but then the same employee who told me not to eat in the theater follows me into the bathroom -- I'm guessing there's no rule prohibiting my eating in the privacy of a bathroom stall, but I feel strange and conspicuous anyway so I go outside. I'm sitting on the steps, but then there's so much burning around my neck and down my shoulders so I decide to stand up, but I don't want to eat standing up so then I'm sitting down and Chris comes out, he says oh you’re eating -- I was just checking to make sure you're okay.

Chris goes back inside, and then I find myself sitting on the steps crying a little because I'm not okay, I'm really not okay I mean I hate it that doing something so simple as a movie gives me so much discomfort, I mean it's really horrible I wish I could cry more I wish I'd stayed home. I mean that feeling from dancing is almost worth anything, in some ways it is everything but it's so difficult to also exist within this composition of pain, this me that doesn't feel like the same me dancing in collapse and release like anything is possible.

No comments: