I'm listening to Pete Yorn's musicforthemorningafter, finding it the appropriate mood for me right now...

This weekend was another show; afterwards, I went out with the rest of the cast to Manny Brown's (a bar on South Street) we all frequent. My director was my good friend Josh (who we'll call JT); he brought with him a friend of his, also named Josh. When the bars closed, JT suggested we all go back to the Armory, the national guard headquarters in Philadelphia. (JT and Josh are in the national guard.) The Armory is this old castle-looking building; we went in, a group of us actors, writers, and directors, as well as Josh. As I'm playing darts (very badly, I might add), JT informs me that Josh is interested. So... We start talking. Getting personal. And so on. He kisses me when no one is looking. We go off to be alone.

Well, before you know it, it's 7:30 Sunday morning (after losing that one hour, also), and I've got to get home. We exchange email. I guess I won't be seeing him again.

While my sexual dry spell broke, I still feel lonely; and maybe I deserve it, in a way, but that always seems the way, bouncing from one encounter to another, but never finding anyone who maybe would be intersted in something more.

So I'll sit and listen to music, like I always do, and dream of being something else...

Do any of us talk to each other?
Do any of us hear each other?