When I step into a “scene,” I rarely know what’s going on consciously. I play my part, knowing on a subconscious level what to do.
I usually see the “scene” years ahead of time and write my part according to my feelings at the time of knowing. My feelings aren’t necessarily the same at the time of happening. This usually guides me away from the other players, because I tend to not like them very much. I only like them just enough to stay in my role that has been agreed upon.
When I’m playing my part, I’m usually saying “commands” or acting them out, by say, moving something a certain way so that the light catches it just so, or something like that.
I’m sad about Marcus, because my whole role was to see him to his death. He never got better, he just went from alcohol to morphine and meth addiction. Had he taken genuine care of himself, he would not have died when he did. He would have lived much longer because he was a pretty healthy guy, in spite of the AIDS.
But no, my role was to enter in and facilitate the death dance. As soon as I came back into his life he began to physically deteriorate. Took 4 years, I mean he’s a tough guy, but still he went. I’m happy that he’s not in pain anymore. He truly was one of those people who are determined to make themselves miserable, so that they can escape with the oblivion of substance abuse.
It’s fucking hard to quit an addiction, but it is possible. I haven’t had a cigarette in over 16 years. Nicotine is one of the hardest substances to quit, but I know that it is possible. You just have to put up with a year of pain and insanity. It’s an adjustment. You may get rid of certain people in your life that are detrimental to your well-being. You will probably stop putting up with bullshit, because the quitting process forces you to deal with your own, and after that, there’s no reason to put up with anybody else’s.
That was perhaps the worst role of my entire life, and I’ve played some doozies. Watching someone deteriorate from AIDS into a walking skeleton is horrible and I don’t wish it on anybody. I wound up drinking again it was so awful. And I would get throw up drunk. I messed up their bathroom so many times it’s not funny.
I used to get those Carlo Rossi jugs of Sangria or Sweet Red and drink half in one night. Jesus I would get drunk! I’m one of those “I love you man” drunks so people didn’t get very annoyed with me. They’d only get pissed when I’d barf. Too fucking bad. I have to put up with your gross shit, you have to put up with mine! I wiped Marc’s ass, fer crissakes! Literally.
For about two years in to our Reconcilliation, Marc would constntly be bugged by me. He’d always say “Something’s different about you. I don’t like it.” Yeah Marc, it was my fucking attitude. I wasn’t a bitch anymore. I can be a bitch, sure, but only when I’m pushed. I’m just not a very angry person anymore. I let go of all that old shit a long time ago.
Anyway, since the flop house has been sold, I haven’t had too many role playing experiences, except when my mom’s ankle broke. That was preordained. I “carried” her through that one. I had been in her shoes in a series of dreams a long time ago.
