so i've played so many roles, ive lost track of which one is the bottom of me. that makes no sense whatsoever. don't really know who i am of the group of mes. or know if i like all of them. being an artist or "artist" in new york forces you to become schizo. you can't say how you feel at work the way you do at rehearsal the way you do around the people at the bar or around the friends of that friend or at the movie theater. i think that applies to more than just the service industry. i get to fake nice and not crazy for 8 hours a day. around my coworkers and customers. dont let too much slip. sometimes i wonder how i end up in situations with normal people, considering i dont feel or always act like i am. i think the real me happens among few. likely, bear munk. sometimes charmin, sometimes mr. gory. sometimes my brother. sometimes ash math.
ever feel like or stop talking to wonder if the other person is really listening? it's funny how of all the people you talk to, only a few know who you really are. stop talking to notice how the other person is responding to your "conversation" that is really just an outspoken inner monologue.
i feel like this.
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