I went to the theatre today, spontaneously. I left my flat around 2ish with a heavy heart to go to the Post Office. I'm been feeling low recently and I didn't want to leave my room but when I did I didn't want to go back. I wanted an adventure. I wanted to drive until I ran out of road. Not for the first time I contemplated just disappearing, taking the ferry and driving on through Europe. I settled for spontaneity instead. I rang to RSC, confirmed they had tickets for tonight and drove down to Stratford Upon Avon where I saw Boris Gudonov.
I feel wonderful now, better than I have all week.
I love the theatre. It makes me feel…happy isn’t the right word, although I do feel happy after. Very happy. Theatre makes me feel satisfied, whole. Complete. It’s similar to when I come out of a good film at the cinema but with the theatre the feeling is more mellow, more rounded. Like a matured wine, I suppose. It’s different again with books. With books I feel higher. The same emotions as with theatre or film but I feel like I’m airborne, singing soprano.
Books lift me, theatre holds me.
All three make me want to write. To create worlds I can get lost in, worlds I can help others escape into by escaping into them myself.
They make me feel like I belong.
There's nothing else in my life that makes me feel like that. I think that's why I'm so reluctant to give up that part of myself, why I'm so eager to make them my whole life.