It's a problem. It is a real problem. And I haven't added an entry to this in ages because I'm lazy and always think like...I don't even know what I think right now--lost it, because I'm here. You understand, right? I might try and elaborate later.

But right now...I need to have this down in words so I don't lose it--I'm here, I won't give up and leave the page. See, as we all know...the old saw, "It takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile," is a total lie. Smiling gets painful after awhile and you may take that literally and metaphorically. Frowning, typically, is easy and less energy-consuming. Now, I love Wicked, as, if you're here, you should know... (Actually finished reading it for the seventh time today; Oct. 30th)

There's a thing about Wicked--and I'm speaking musical-verse here so get the novel outta your head for a second. As Dianne Pilkington said (Current West End G(a)linda and my love.), you can really get into the show; searching for all the "clever little WOO references" or just sit back and be entertained by the spectacle of the songs and the lights and the intense moods--intense being extremities north and south; hilarious and heart-wrenching. Reading into Miss Pilky's words...there's a thing about Wicked. The first time I ever saw it was with her onstage, April 4th; a Saturday eve. I had no idea what it was, who was in it, or what to expect. No idea that I would walk away changed--no pun, I refuse. 'Course, I couldn't remember hardly anything!!
The few fuzzy, still images of show I could recall a day and a couple days after--could only be brought to mind because of the thought captions tagged to them. Example...

Fiyero: "-somethingaboutcorruptingpeople" (How I heard it.)
My Thoughts: "Nice pants."

So I could remember the line, "It seems that once again the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students has fallen to me!" because of the pants--at the time he spoke, I tagged a thought to it. Now you may be thinking--and if you're not, pay attention so you can think this--"What, so you didn't think hardly for the entire show? Dotty." No, no, no. I was zoned. See, from the very start, and I know this--I remember my shock as though I knew where it was all leading--right from the beginning lines of NOMTW, "Good news, she's dead / The Witch of the West is dead" I...well yes, I was stunned into a state of...so-not-there-ness. It seemed cruel, and, selfishly, I thought of my own life for most of the performance. I am ashamed. But as I was saying...

Returning from London, it was strange, it was inexplicable, but I Youtubed Wicked like crazy. Hm? Wasn't I not touched or whatever? Wasn't I not paying attention? Not consciously...or...unconsciously and... One of them. That I won't explain, just--continuing. I know what I'm saying and this is for me. From that, I discovered many wonderful things and people though I was very slow to realize it. At that time, in my English class, we were assigned to make a magazine--a topic of our interest. Fire Emblem was my obsession--but, well, hey, I'll do an article on Wicked. Explicitly I remember repeating to various people, "It won't become an obsession." lolololol

Wicked's effect on me was profound--it was life-changing, it was world-warping. So it was that, for example, I couldn't just casually listen to it while doing homework or something--it was too great for that. I'd be smacked with emotion and gut-wrenching-ness. ...That's what I wanted.
But what I feared was that...I wouldn't be. What if it wore off? What if "Gutes Tun" from the Die Hexen von Oz soundtrack which I ordered for 22Euros from Germany directly, stopped freezing my blood and sending chills up and down my spine; widen my eyes almost in fear of Willemijn's intensity and Elphaba's pain? I liked and loathed the fangirls...they were funny and outrageously dedicated--but I also chewed my lip on the worrying idea that they may not see Wicked as anything like I do. Yeah, sure, hundreds cry during it, okay--I don't cry. I won't rationalize, this is what I thought, and Now me won't critique Then me like that.
So, deep into my obsession, heart fluttering at the idea of Wicked, a total love-crush for the character G(a)linda fully developed and a complete script done over the course of nine hours plus ongoing editing... August and New York arrived.

Wicked. Wicked for the second time. I was terrified and exhilarated--nervous about being with my dad and sister. It was the Gershwin Theatre, Broadway. The stage where Kristin Chenoweth dipped Idina Menzel for a big stage kiss during technical difficulties. Where Wicked was born into the musical theatre community. Photos I'd mostly seen on BroadwaySecrets, those elitist douchebags I read every week without fail...but when I turned and saw it, saw the huge black mass of building and the overhang that screamed WICKED: THE UNTOLD STORY OF THE WITCHES OF OZ, hotdogs in my nostrils, trucks in my ear, my dad nudging my ribs like an idiot...
Oh, Oz.
I won't go into supreme detail...but I will say that Wicked...had its thing. My worries were all unfounded. I did not go catatonic and forget, I did not sit mindless and simply entertained; laughing at "Popular" and frowning at "INTG", I did not critique the cast like an a*****e the whole time.

The moment Glinda (Erin Mackey) rushed up to Elphaba (Jennifer Dinoia; u/s for Dee) in the attic for "Defying Gravity" my hands flew to my mouth; my heart froze and pulled, and pounded. I knew what was going to happen...oh, I knew it like I know that I love chapstick...and yet, I was begging for Glinda to not let go of that broom. "Together we're unlimited~"
My Thoughts: "You will be! Oh, you truly will be. Glinda--please--Erin, don't--improv, improv! Change Oz..."
But of course, they followed script. Some of the greatest moments of my life in that theatre. Even beyond being stunned and heartbroken and stifling my laughs so bloody hard I was in physical pain, I did manage to observe the cast's little ways. I could do a full review! And I'd have fun doing it. But that's for another time.

Wicked pulled through for me. September nineteenth, mom would see it on tour in Seattle. ...A...disappointment. I must be brief, this is going so far off. It was their voices. No belting, no shocks. Donna Vivino as Elphaba was an incredible actress--her faces during "Popular" still make me smile just recalling them (Which i can--vividly.). But...her voice...was...so...not impressive. Elphaba requires star power, mind-blowing, rafter-shacking belting. Donna didn't bring it. And the cast followed her. Everything else was ace--Chandra Lee Schwartz was also a BRILLIANT actress; Glinda and Galinda were just...oh, brill. We sat three rows back, center. I'll never forget seeing Glinda the Good descend in her bubble and walk towards me; all glitter and warmth and grace and beauty--so close I could almost touch her. And yet...maybe it was the proximity...it didn't do it for me.
Especially during WWoTE, first of all, I was having like, digestive cramps which were distracting and...I was thinking...negatively... That Wicked had lost it--it was the end--what effected me had worn out. During FG, I was drolly leaning back, fist on jaw, elbow on armrest, noting lamely that Donna sang higher than Chandra and that it was weird. At SD, I couldn't stand my family being around and was reserved and tight; got the leading ladies' signatures and was gone.

But it wasn't the end--not at all. My recording (Yes.) of Jennfier's NGD still scared the s**t out of me when I listened. I still indulged in analyzing Galinda's character and swooned with my mooning affections for her--collected my favorite show photos from all productions and still Youtube like a nutcase. Listening to "Till I Hear You Sing" from LND, follow-up to POTO, I experienced chills so intense, I had goosebumps for ten minutes following. Watching and listening to SJB singing at a Scott Alan cabaret his song, "Never Never Land" I went silent and felt...felt...I listened. I loved.

Today, I played "Till I Hear You Sing" and felt nothing. Maybe it was because my sister was beside me. Maybe I'd heard it too many times--but, but no. Maybe five-six, and the last it was still so profound.

On another tab, is SJB singing "Never Never Land"; the cabaret where Shoshana Bean introduced her. At 5:03 in, I stopped, and came here to write this. Because I didn't want to watch--I just wanted to listen and switch pages. Today I tried again to listen to Kerry Ellis' final "No Good Deed", the recording of which I finally managed to download. I got through it--but at its end, realized I'd spaced. She riffed on the third, "Fiyero" like crazy--way beyond Jennifer. Maybe it was because she was really just Kerry to me now, and not Elphaba at all. Now I'm playing SJB's solo album, "This Place I Know" and skip "Never Never Land" each time it rolls around. Before, I always skipped it because I felt it just lacked the emotion of when she sings it live and the recorded version just didn't do it justice. I skip it now because I'm scared it won't matter, it's a beautiful sound in the background and that would be all.

Not to say I've lost all capacity for being touched by the things Wicked brought me to love... I...just...

I am scared. That I've lost much. And I don't know when, and don't want to think on why. I may write more later.
In fact, during that play of "Till I Hear You Sing" earlier today, I did totally and completely realize what was happening and thought, "Hey, come on, force some shivers. They may become real." I didn't. "Ah, no, I don't want to. Too much energy." I hovered on the edge of trying; feeling like, with just a nudge, I'd be there; cold from exhilaration. Yeah, I could do it.
My thoughts. I think like that a lot... This is used as jokes only really...but say there's a cigarette addict and he says to his friend, "I can quit whenever I want." But they don't. They fully, truly, 100% believe that they can. "Fine, I will! ...Nah, I won't." Why don't they quit? "It feels good!"
Good enough that you can't?
It's denial, I think... That's a skill of mine, I think--knowing I'm lying to myself.
I don't really do anything about it, though, I think...

I sort of feel open enough that something may touch me--SJB and Dolly Parton are doing, "I Will Always Love You" right now. But it's just...nice. And I know it. I feel such an urge to type, "Please...let me be able to feel like I do when I wake tomorrow." But to whom would I be speaking?
So I-I won't. I will stop now. May be back.