Tick, tick, tick.

I realize it's been a while, but hopefully, like old friends we can pick up where we left off - which was sometime back in late summer with me apologizing for being less available and hoping to get back to writing.

I have been writing, but in a more private way and more importantly, I've been reading, traveling, taking in shows, teaching improv, performing, writing songs for a show I've had simmering for a while, and thinking about where I am, where I want to be, and where to keep pushing and where to just accept my lot (I am having great difficulty in this area, as I am profoundly confounded when having to quit things - I get hives, nausea and insomnia when faced with quitting anything.) I see it only as failure - never as freedom the way others can.

I recently heard the song Love the One You're With and became very nearly angry with the defeatist message of the lyrics...if you can't be with the one you love...throw in the towel and pretend? My, what a lot of actors we all are? Oscars all around!

What a sad and unsatisfying way to approach life - especially in a song. Reality may require it, but in a song? Fucking fight for whatever you want. In personal terms I apply the song not necessarily (well not at the moment) to my most significant relationship with another person, but rather to the one I have with myself.

I wish I had the guts to fight this way in reality - but I certainly would put up a fight in my artistic endeavors - the one place where the world can become your oyster. Where the ending can twist. New relationships forged. Out of reach achievements awarded, and the self you'd hope to become is the self that is on display. I'd never celebrate the disappointments in my life with a song - especially one with such a preachy tone - as if it's helpful to anyone.

Lately I've been dealing with the fact that in getting older, you lose that range of potential that was once bestowed on a person simply because of time, which is fading fast and furious. There are major life altering decisions and sacrifices to make and time is the evil reason for forcing it all to climax. It means evaluating everything in life. Everyday choices. And it's exhausting. And frustrating. But tick, tick, tick goes the clock and more time passes and nothing really changes and you have to decide - or at least decide to try, and then it just gets you back to a place where you lose sight of why you're in it to begin with and simply have a goal and all the romance fades because there is no more just "being" it's all time, and responsibility, and opportunity, and keeping up with the Joneses and the tick, tick, tick only gets louder and louder.

But then, it's 10:47 and you have a project that's due, a proposal to overnight, a dishwasher to empty and the mundaneness begins to seep in, which leads to madness. Am I doomed to be disappointed because I always thought I'd be a certain way (dare I say it...special?) - or will that eventually drive me to where I've dreampt? God help me that I feel something along the lines of the latter because this is suffocating. And manifests itself uncandidly as bitterness, which I am happy to quit.