Eloquently Twisted

Yesterday, I did two comedy gigs, which was a first for me.
There is a lull after a gig, the day after, feels empty.
Two gigs, emptier still. I’m trying to fill the spaces of quiet with people or babble to stop me thinking about how drained I feel.

Now the adrenaline of trying new material and the spotlight in my face as ebbed away, I feel tired or dull. I certainly don’t feel funny, not that the night didn’t go well, it did.

I just feel spent, like I shot my load and I’m cradling balls I don’t have fighting sleep and feelings of melancholy. The work, it leads to more work which is fine but at this moment
I feel blunted, not sharp or useful, strange and waiting to do it all again. To do it all again and be better.

There are moments where I want someone to say, you’ve done great, you’ve made it, you’re brilliant you can stop now and let go. But like digging a hole it never feels done, things just get deeper and dirtier and sweatier. Sweatier isn’t a good word to use.

Today, I’m finding it hard to connect with people, maybe being alone on stage like that twice in a night is odd. Here, spend all this time alone, in front of different people who are laughing or judging you or one then the other, then go home and eat broth you microwaved for a little too long at the kitchen table.

I’ve not processed it, there are bits lingering in my mind, my heart, a heaviness that I guess I just need to look straight on and adjust. I love stand up but it feels so uphill at times. I don’t think I’m in any way hilarious and want to be instantly good at something which is difficult to be in anyway good at never mind have that instantly. But still the challenge keeps me there.

Caught up in all of this is my measuring my success by other people’s which happens and then getting worried about who exactly it is I’m trying to impress with all of this anyways?
The answer should be myself because that sounds very deep like I’ve found meaning in all this. I still want to impress other people, I still want other people to tell me that I did very well and they liked it. Even though when people say it, I want them to say it, I don’t believe it, like someone throwing pebbles at a window trying to get your attention but you refuse to look.

I’m hard on myself but to be honest I’m not hard enough. I’ll push this back in my mind today, it will be a dull purr of dissatisfaction then I’ll sit down and actually look at my material. There’s a temptation there to not, to say, this is good enough and walk away from it, then dust it off and bring it out for the next gig but that really isn’t enough. I need to work what I have, like drawing a rough outline of a sketch and then trying to fill in the finer details, then shading, shading, shading until it feels better or real.

Right now, if this is art, and yesterday someone said my comedy was pornography, I’m probably finger painting, I’m probably an excellent finger painter. But, no one is really impressed by it.

See, there it is again, impressed. This need I have to bloody prove myself. It’s stupid.
Urgh, I feel tired, physically and mentally spent. I’m sure in a day or so I’ll feel fine and all these words haven’t hit what it is that is bothering me.
Maybe it’s where do I go with this? Am I good enough to keep going?
This all sounds very self pitying but, It’s not really, I’m just searching for answers, I’m not giving up. I know my limits, I can’t push on today because that would be silly.
And I’m not funny today, I’m tired.

And it’s fine to be tired but I wouldn’t do it as a stage act.