We've Ditched the Ditch

Well it has arrived; somehow some generously sadistic people have given us the breaks to start with this terrible thing. I have already been warned to be optimistic, by many that I care to listen to. And I think that it is good advise should I take it. But that’s the question, and at this early stage, the light could become all too much, the face has only began to creak in the dawn of this thing. Don’t trust the sun; five o’clock is a better time for mistakes. There is less illumination and a better sense of seedy righteousness. I digress, but I feel blessed to this week. It is true; we have been smashed jovially in the face with good fortune. Now we are the possession of a good and fine, foolhardily and altogether trusting crew, god help them. Not only that, but through a friend with a kind and open heart (whose name I shall not mention as I do not want to cause him any difficulty, dealing with us will be enough) has allowed us the use of a space to rehearse. There is nothing like the swill of piss and stepfeet of broken glass to kick the theatre into you. Hell, I might even start to sleep there.
So it is ready, apparently, and even at these early infant stages we have been accused of stealing. The goddamn insult! Before we were even ready to steal. The trick is to wait to the end and get the head right into the vice, and then go for it. Nobody wants a tail. But this has, thankfully (light a cigarette) removed our doings with the fame factory, a production line of filthy promises to young girls. It sounds horrific, almost wrong, and believe me, it is.
I will not go into the naming and devouring of our cast just yet. Those morsels can be slipped out within the coming weeks. But I will say that we have the crew of strong voices, fine bodies and talent to kill an ox. I am excited; I believe that they can do powerful things, if the right techniques are applied. And my faith is in Daniel too. There is something beautiful in the man’s desperate sickness towards theatre, and it is an illness I intend to nurture.
Already we begin the bull run into our next production, why, I am not sure. But the general gist of the talk has been that the only way to make it, and to do it well with gamble, will be to run regardless of the despotic and obvious truth that surrounds us. Maybe through blind determination and stubborn grit can we succeed and sit in the sun with our feet on the grass. This is a fantasy, but I see it, and I know we can reach the high pinnacle of success that is plastic garden furniture shaded in a fine tapioca (and I will accept no other).
So it simply stands to state this fact, the production stubbornly refuses to die, and it forces us to feed it from an already sore tit. I was not made for this, but I do not resent it. Behind all these terrible prospects, is the possibility that what we are attempting to do, may actually succeed. If it is possible, I’m not sure, but of one thing I am: Halden Theatre is a phoenix, because despite my attempts with gasoline, it continues to rise upward to better planes. The royal bastard!