It seems to be a cardinal rule: music-scenesters must admire and obsess over eccentric singer-songwriter Daniel Johnston. I won't begrudge anyone their cardinal rules; I'll just say that my experiences with his music haven't inspired me to dig deep into his body of work.

I have seen him perform live once, a couple of years ago at South by Southwest at a day show in a conference room packed with journalists. He had the shakes and nervously told racist jokes; he didn't seem well. I can barely remember his songs from that brief set now because I was so embarrassed and uncomfortable. It felt like we were all being patronizing, like letting an eight-year-old win at chess.

That's where I was coming from when I walked into DiverseWorks' theater Friday night to see Catastrophic Theatre's Life is Happy and Sad, a play based on a recorded message from Johnston to a friend in the early '80s. I wasn't sure if anything based on Johnston's life or music would resonate with me, but I was surprised to find that there's much to Johnston's life to which I could relate.

The Johnston portrayed in Life is riddled with an intense desire to create, but addled by fear and self-doubt, not to mention bipolar disorder. His words, spoken brilliantly and with perfect manic tension by Matt Brownlie, are the internal monologue that any creative person wrestles with as they sit down to create. Some of us hold it together better than Johnston in our daily lives, but on the inside we're often just as broken and lonely.

I cannot stress this enough: Brownlie's performance is breathtaking. I have long known him as a dynamic front man for one of my favorite Houston bands, Bring Back the Guns, an experience that not only gave him the musical knowledge to handle the singing and piano playing, but imbued him with a stage presence that other non-actors might not have (this is Brownlie's first acting gig). However, nothing but hard work could have prepared the guy for a nearly hour-long monologue that didn't once falter despite the fits and starts of a manic depressive subject.

By placing Johnston's vulnerable monologue -- in which he speaks about his and others' music, loneliness, and the inability to finish songs -- next to moments of success -- discussing his music with others, playing music with understanding souls -- the audience is taken on a ride of emotions. The lowest comes when Johnston's mother tells him that his songs have no worth. The highest is when he fronts a rock band, smoke machine billowing, his fears far from the stage.

Others that deserve a mention for the play's success include Catastrophic Theater's Jason Nodler, who adapted and directed the play; the members of Roky Moon & BOLT, who we all know can play an awesome rock song; and our friend Joe Mathlete, who has a joyful cameo.

Many other publications and people have expressed their admiration for the play, so I am just one more voice telling you this: there is one more week of performances (Wednesday through Saturday) and you had best be there. With the price tag of "pay what you can," there's no reason not to, especially that you think you don't particularly like Daniel Johnston's music. Trust me; it won't be an issue.

In fact, this play has made me want to listen to more of Johnston's songs. Really listen.

8 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday. DiverseWorks. Pay what you can; buy online here; also available at the door.