Just Do It

The reason I obsess over others is because I do not want to look at myself. I don’t want to spend time with myself and I don’t want to take the necessary steps to move myself forward. I long now for that moment when I am free of obsessive thoughts; when the only thing on my mind is the next moment. I have found myself in this position during VERY specific times in my life and they were always theatre related. Since I knew my name I have known what I wanted to be. I have spent too much energy avoiding it in fear of not living up to my own expectations of greatness. If I’m not guaranteed to be the best then I won’t do it. But this is a cop-out. It’s an excuse to not do the grueling work that is required to bring something into existence that deserves to exist because I am too afraid to fail. And because I am lazy. Part of existing is, after all, survival and to survive an entity must not only be strong it must have a passion that pushes it forward, a reason for wanting to engage in the challenges it will have to face to continue to be real. And some of those challenges will vest the entity. There is no way to always win. The secret is to continue after the failures. That is real success. And that is survival. Being able to exist despite imperfections. Failure after all isn’t certain death. Death is the state I’m in now: stagnent, paralyzed by my own pride. If I can’t be perfect than I won’t be at all. But it’s imperfections that allow for continued existence. Science calls it adaption and from adaption comes progress. I will not progress until I embrace my imperfections and unhide them. I have to reveal the real behind the image I project or I will kill myself with the slow, smothering effect of my own pride. I have looked at my life too often and too long and have not looked at all toward the sky. I own my responsibilities but not my pleasures, I accept my limitations but not compliments from friends. I have tortured myself. I have abused myself. I have abandoned myself and all for the horrible reason of deflection. If I deflect all this energy away through these useless and oppressive actions then I will not have to engage in the chore set to me; to write my play. I have an obligation to bring the stories in my head to life. There are many. They never stop and too often I have written them off. Now, write them down.

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