So Daul died, I know it's old news. I guess that's what law school does to you, it makes everything obsolete.
I saw Daul from time to time. We ran in different circles; she was a Next girl, I was a Wilhelmina girl. They did fashion, we did commercial. But ever so often, when our castings collide, we exchange the cursory glances at our all Asian casting. There are so few of us, I think maybe thirty in NYC. And I think at one point or another, we've all shared a polite elevator ride up in 4 Times Square.
She was ephemeral. She was beautiful. She was quirky. She was everything I wish I could be-- two inches taller and twenty pounds thinner.
She loved house and trance, that's probably the only thing we shared. That and the loneliness on set. Everyday new people, sometimes not nice, and all the waiting. The damn waiting.
I know how dark the industry can be, it's a black hole that gets you to do stupid relentlessness things. Those nagging feelings, those nagging friends. Those people who poke and pull at your face where you're simultaneously the most important and least important person in the room. The empty hotel rooms. The endless flights. Life feels like it's on pause.
So you go home with your high heels that hurt too much after a ten hour day in command. All you have left is that voice on the other end of the line who tell you they love you and you know they do, but they are too far for comfort and you are too far from home.
Daul, this one is for you. Here's to better days and better ways.
Lonely Girl (Gareth Emery Remix) ASOT 402
