sometimes i feel like rapunzel. and all i have is a window and a computer through which i experience the world. only, i've locked myself inside the tower and not some evil witch.
and when i feel that way, like i'm trapped, i write. i write to free myself. i write to free my mind from the stories in my head. i write to reach out to the world around me. and i write because sometimes it's the only way i know how to live.
i know that sounds super depressing but it's not mean to be. it's just a truth. i mean, i only really write when something heavy is on my mind. i don't write when things are easy. i write when things are hard.
i write when i need to let down my hair and climb out of the tower.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Friday, September 23, 2011
37. the truth
here's the thing...i need a job doing what i love. i need to do more than survival jobs. i'm tired of just getting by. i want a career. not just a hobby. i'm discouraged that auditions aren't leading to anything right now. i know i should be happy that i keep getting final callbacks for shows, but seriously, can't i just get cast? can't the universe pick me this time?
sometimes when i write i get cryptic. i talk in circles. around things rather than about them.
but i'm sad that the universe keeps choosing other people over me. it makes me lose faith in myself, in this career, in my choices...
i should buck up, i guess, deal with it all. but. it's. hard.
that's all.
sometimes when i write i get cryptic. i talk in circles. around things rather than about them.
but i'm sad that the universe keeps choosing other people over me. it makes me lose faith in myself, in this career, in my choices...
i should buck up, i guess, deal with it all. but. it's. hard.
that's all.
36. funeral
I'm on my iPhone, so it's impossible for me to get into the groove of writing like I'd like to, but I'm on Long Island and my computer is in Manhattan, so I have no choice.
I went to a funeral today. Rob's uncle passed away last weekend unexpectedly and the service was today. Being the good boy that I am, I came out here to support him and his family. Nothing is worse than having to deal with unexpected death. That's something I had the pleasure of learning earlier this summer when my dog died. I was devastated. And I only had Russel for two years. So I can imagine the agony of losing a husband/father/favorite uncle/brother/friend. Clearly the grief is overwhelming and it's always good to be surrounded by love. So I came out to support my L.I. family. Naturally, it's what a gentleman would do.
Which is actually my first truly gentlemanly act in a while. It feels good to be getting my footing again after a long summer.
The thing about funerals that always gets to me is religion. Religion is such a tricky squirrel. And now, more than ever, I am so totally baffled by its mysteries. I've never really been all that religious. I went to church as a kid, but it seemed more of a social thing for my family than anything else. My brother and I went with mom. Dad stopped going pretty early on, which is strange since he's obviously the most religious person in my family. But the misanthrope in him kept him at home. Church for me was never really about God. It was about pagentry. Literally. It's where I got my first taste of theatre.
Eventually we stopped going. I was in middle school when that happened. I'm not sure why we stopped attending, exactly, but we did.
So the idea of God was never really impressed upon me growing up. Both of my parents have made mention of their spirituality every now and again, but it's such a personal relationship (and not one that I was ever really privy to) so that when I find myself in a place of worship for any reason, I am perplexed at this mass of people singing and chanting and proclaiming their love of God.
Now don't get me wrong. I understand the sociology and psychology of religion. And I have my moments where I realize there are voids in my life that could be filled by faith. But like all of the other holes in my life that need filling, I find that the social norms and the accepted ways of doing things are alien to me.
From time to time I meditate on the thought of God. The last time I did this was the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college. Being in the church today made me wonder if it's time I do a little more digging. Especially being where I'm at in my life right now. I've lost faith in what I thought to be true this summer and I fear the only way I can move forward is to figure out what I want to believe in. Either find something new or solidify what I already thought to be true and realize this past summer was just a test of faith.
It's funny, I remember writing something earlier this year about making this year a religious quest, but the art of being a gentleman was to be my new religion. But maybe I need to take stock in my personal relationship with the abstract of god. The Bible, no, but God, yes.
We'll see, I suppose. It's at least worth the thought...
I used to put my faith in the universe. You could call that God or fate. But I believed wholeheartedly that everything had a reason and all things worked out the way they were meant to be. Personal experiences even proved that my life was being taken care of. The road may have been winding, but I was always able to, in hindsight, see how the road got me from there to here.
This summer, however, when dreams were lost and pain took over, faith left too. I know I'm not "here" yet, and I'm still on the path from "there" but I feel like I've been "there" for too long now. I'm restless and unhappy and I've seen so many possible "heres" come and go that I've started giving up on waiting for the destination to present itself. I guess I just feel like I've been left in limbo and this is the longest I've been stuck here. And that is why I write of not knowing how to fill my days. I'm so used to being directed and guided. My life feels like this constant path that I occasionally make pit stops at, and I've been looking for a pit stop for the past few miles with no signs of one in sight...
But faith would tell me that there's one ahead. There's always one ahead. I just have to keep moving forward in its direction. That's the real answer. The one constant I keep coming to. I have to keep moving.
I went to a funeral today. Rob's uncle passed away last weekend unexpectedly and the service was today. Being the good boy that I am, I came out here to support him and his family. Nothing is worse than having to deal with unexpected death. That's something I had the pleasure of learning earlier this summer when my dog died. I was devastated. And I only had Russel for two years. So I can imagine the agony of losing a husband/father/favorite uncle/brother/friend. Clearly the grief is overwhelming and it's always good to be surrounded by love. So I came out to support my L.I. family. Naturally, it's what a gentleman would do.
Which is actually my first truly gentlemanly act in a while. It feels good to be getting my footing again after a long summer.
The thing about funerals that always gets to me is religion. Religion is such a tricky squirrel. And now, more than ever, I am so totally baffled by its mysteries. I've never really been all that religious. I went to church as a kid, but it seemed more of a social thing for my family than anything else. My brother and I went with mom. Dad stopped going pretty early on, which is strange since he's obviously the most religious person in my family. But the misanthrope in him kept him at home. Church for me was never really about God. It was about pagentry. Literally. It's where I got my first taste of theatre.
Eventually we stopped going. I was in middle school when that happened. I'm not sure why we stopped attending, exactly, but we did.
So the idea of God was never really impressed upon me growing up. Both of my parents have made mention of their spirituality every now and again, but it's such a personal relationship (and not one that I was ever really privy to) so that when I find myself in a place of worship for any reason, I am perplexed at this mass of people singing and chanting and proclaiming their love of God.
Now don't get me wrong. I understand the sociology and psychology of religion. And I have my moments where I realize there are voids in my life that could be filled by faith. But like all of the other holes in my life that need filling, I find that the social norms and the accepted ways of doing things are alien to me.
From time to time I meditate on the thought of God. The last time I did this was the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college. Being in the church today made me wonder if it's time I do a little more digging. Especially being where I'm at in my life right now. I've lost faith in what I thought to be true this summer and I fear the only way I can move forward is to figure out what I want to believe in. Either find something new or solidify what I already thought to be true and realize this past summer was just a test of faith.
It's funny, I remember writing something earlier this year about making this year a religious quest, but the art of being a gentleman was to be my new religion. But maybe I need to take stock in my personal relationship with the abstract of god. The Bible, no, but God, yes.
We'll see, I suppose. It's at least worth the thought...
I used to put my faith in the universe. You could call that God or fate. But I believed wholeheartedly that everything had a reason and all things worked out the way they were meant to be. Personal experiences even proved that my life was being taken care of. The road may have been winding, but I was always able to, in hindsight, see how the road got me from there to here.
This summer, however, when dreams were lost and pain took over, faith left too. I know I'm not "here" yet, and I'm still on the path from "there" but I feel like I've been "there" for too long now. I'm restless and unhappy and I've seen so many possible "heres" come and go that I've started giving up on waiting for the destination to present itself. I guess I just feel like I've been left in limbo and this is the longest I've been stuck here. And that is why I write of not knowing how to fill my days. I'm so used to being directed and guided. My life feels like this constant path that I occasionally make pit stops at, and I've been looking for a pit stop for the past few miles with no signs of one in sight...
But faith would tell me that there's one ahead. There's always one ahead. I just have to keep moving forward in its direction. That's the real answer. The one constant I keep coming to. I have to keep moving.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
35. midnight
why can't all life happen after midnight? this is when my brain comes alive. there's something about the stillness and the darkness and calm serenity of the sleeping city below me that activates the neurons in my brain. i write. i sing. i clean. i organize. it's almost 4:30 am and i'm happier now than i've been all day.
it's weird.
just a thought.
34. i keep coming back
weeeeelllllllllll.
it's official. i am a terrible blogger. terrible. this is a fact i've always known about myself, but i always seem to think there may be the chance that i'll change.
alas. i. have. not.
but i keep coming back. that's got to count for something, right?
right.
because when you set out on an epic journey of self discovery, you're going to have your ups and downs. clearly. but as long as you keep on trudging, you'll be fine.
i'm still trudging.
i've been really dramatic lately. really. ask rob, poor soul. he's the real gentleman here, having to deal with my sorry ass.
it's been a rough summer. and because it's been a rough summer, i shut down. completely. i resigned from the world for the first time in almost 6 years. the last time was back in college, and thankfully i had my best friends david and jennifer to pull me out. this time i had rob. and i'm not out of the woods yet, but i'm trying. which, as i've just figured out, stands for something.
i've also realized something else. i don't know how to live my life without being told what to do. seriously. i have no idea.
get this. i grew up at home. always had mom and dad and teachers and extra curricular activities tell me how to spend my time. then i went to college and had classes and work study and rehearsals and shows. i sort of broke down in the middle, but pulled things together senior year when i was super busy. then i graduated and started working professionally. i was lucky to work straight through for three years. first in NC. then in VA. then in Japan. those jobs kept me busy. and when i didn't fill up my days off, i just thought i was relaxing. it didn't bother me that i didn't really do much. unless i was traveling and site seeing, i'd sleep in and watch tv. play on the computer. maybe see someone or have dinner. but usually i'd just keep to myself and enjoy it. and then i moved to new york, where my life has been more my own than it's ever been because i haven't had a schedule to adhere to or places to be - and guess what. i started falling apart again. all this time on my hands, which i always thought was a gift, has in fact been killing me. when i work, it's always part time. my schedule is all over the map. auditions happen but it's up to me to go. no one is taking attendance. so if i decide not to go to an audition, there are no consequences other than not being seen (unless my agent sets up an audition. that's the only time i am held accountable). i have this entire life at my disposal - days and nights to do with as i please - and i'm doing nothing. it's overwhelming and stress inducing and i didn't realize this until just yesterday.
i need to figure out how to live my life. how to fill my days.
so maybe i should start with a schedule? in the movie about a boy, hugh grant talks about setting up his days in 30 minute increments. maybe i should do that. units of time. fill them up slowly. force myself to do the dishes. to do laundry. only play video games for an hour (and not 8). maybe i should start cooking dinner, and not just ordering in.
i have to take control. because i've completely lost it. i've let myself go and if i don't get it together, i'm a goner.
and i don't want to be a goner.
so here i go, again, stepping into tomorrow.
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