I am not turning my phone on today.
And I didn't want you to worry.
Aside from necessary email for work or school, I am not reaching out to anyone today. I am going to have one day where I don't rely on anyone for anything (outside, again, from work or school).
Anyway I wanted you to know.
It seems a small and stupid step, but it's one I feel I should take, to prove to myself that I can do a day...and therefore maybe two days and therefore maybe a week, a month, a year...all on my own.
Don't get me wrong...I need you. Just not today.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Trumpet
The first time I tried on a wedding gown was for a commercial.
The first time I wore a wedding ring was on stage.
In the entirety of my lifetime, I have spent countless hours dedicated to the pursuit of analyzing and presenting the accomplishments of other people to broader audiences.
I excelled in school, studying the texts and accolades of others.
When I wrote, I wrote the life stories of others--where they were going and what they were doing.
When I danced, it was to others' music--with movements choreographed by various teachers.
When I sang, the songs were compositions of masters, conducted by learned musicians.
And when I've acted, I've always taken the stage as someone else...in an effort to bring light to someone else's story and someone else's vision.
But whatever became of my vision? Where is my music? Where is my song? Where is my story?
Where is my purpose?
Surely, I was not put here merely to give light to other people's dreams. Surely I am allowed some of my own? Surely, I too, am deserving of a story, dance, a song?
The next time I wear a wedding dress, I want it to be my own. The ring, my own. No longer the instrument, let me be the masterpiece on the page.
The first time I wore a wedding ring was on stage.
In the entirety of my lifetime, I have spent countless hours dedicated to the pursuit of analyzing and presenting the accomplishments of other people to broader audiences.
I excelled in school, studying the texts and accolades of others.
When I wrote, I wrote the life stories of others--where they were going and what they were doing.
When I danced, it was to others' music--with movements choreographed by various teachers.
When I sang, the songs were compositions of masters, conducted by learned musicians.
And when I've acted, I've always taken the stage as someone else...in an effort to bring light to someone else's story and someone else's vision.
But whatever became of my vision? Where is my music? Where is my song? Where is my story?
Where is my purpose?
Surely, I was not put here merely to give light to other people's dreams. Surely I am allowed some of my own? Surely, I too, am deserving of a story, dance, a song?
The next time I wear a wedding dress, I want it to be my own. The ring, my own. No longer the instrument, let me be the masterpiece on the page.
Mostly for me:
Depression comes from living in the past: anxiety from living for the future.
The only peace you will ever know comes from living for today.
The only peace you will ever know comes from living for today.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
DAMNIT
Why can't I get it right?
WHAT is WRONG WITH ME?
As I write, friends of mine are getting engaged, getting married, having a baby, having a second baby. At this very moment, most of my friends own a home. Most of them have a steady job. Those who don't are nailing down another dream.
Sure, my path is different than everyone else's...but damnit! It seems like I am always behind! My friends started their periods before me. They had their first kisses before me. They had their first loves before me. They had their first cars before me. Most of them lost their virginity before me. They got married before me. They are having kids before me...
The only thing I ever did first is grow boobs.
Forgive me if I find that a dubious achievement.
I'm going to the dry cleaners.
WHAT is WRONG WITH ME?
As I write, friends of mine are getting engaged, getting married, having a baby, having a second baby. At this very moment, most of my friends own a home. Most of them have a steady job. Those who don't are nailing down another dream.
Sure, my path is different than everyone else's...but damnit! It seems like I am always behind! My friends started their periods before me. They had their first kisses before me. They had their first loves before me. They had their first cars before me. Most of them lost their virginity before me. They got married before me. They are having kids before me...
The only thing I ever did first is grow boobs.
Forgive me if I find that a dubious achievement.
I'm going to the dry cleaners.
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