Quarter Past Three

There's no Dab sitting on my chest. At least none of the old ones. But the insomnia seems to be back, and it's winning. New worries, new anxieties, but few ways to block or re-route them so I can get some sleep.

Last night, I was up till 4 a.m. and woke up at 8:30. It's 3:15 a.m. and we're looking at a double-feature. Been reading for one and a half hours; maybe part of the problem is too many books? I've got three at the moment: "The Art of Happiness", "Infinite Jest", and "The Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defense." Actually, I've four if I'm counting the Psychology textbook on loan from Ryan. Oddly enough, the entire chapter on dreams goes into fascinating detail about the various stages of sleep, the Event Horizon of consciousness and unconsciousness, and yet fails to mention basic remedies, ideas, or solutions to insomnia, instead listing a brief definition while skimming some of the mythological superstitions surrounding the subject in art, history and poetry.

Damn schools; what are they teaching kids these days? No self-regulating form of behavior? No corrective measures against a severely debilitating, mentally unsound, physically damaging psychological hindrance? Nah. How 'bout a painting that looks like a 17th century Emo rendition of a demon sitting on a woman's chest, laughing? Great. Just great. This is why I prefer the performing arts.

I think I'm in a Kafka mood too on account of seeing Synecdoche, New York, the new Charlie Kaufman film starring Philip Seymour Hoffman and Diane Wiest. Interesting beyond a doubt, provoking in it's ability to ignite abstract meaning in it's overtly metaphorical imagery, and breathtakingly grand in scope. It does, however, leave you feeling as if you just stepped into a person's very disturbing, very private dream. I couldn't shake the feeling halfway through the film that I had fallen asleep, and was watching instead a vivid hallucination sparked by my own lack of rest.

Anyway, I'd highly recommend the film. I'm sure some actors and directors (and writers, especially) will be hailing this movie as one of the epic hallmarks of the cinema, which is like saying Surrealism is the deepest and therefore truest genre of art.

F*ck. I need sleep. I have auditions and filming tomorrow.

-Wednesday, November 12th, 2008