You don't know a thing about me...

I spent a few hours last night reading old LJ entries (circa 2006) for inspiration for a play I'm writing. It's about what happens backstage during a play, and what "types" of actors are commonly found.

But oh, those old entries. I am so glad I wrote them, but getting back in that headspace is depressing. And what's worse is that I often feel that way- still. Like I'm just outside of the circle I want to be in. But they're doing everything to keep me out ("they" being those people I'm writing about in my play). It's so frustrating because I see the stuff I want to do. I COULD do it. But I have so many limitations. I am not part of a group. It's just me. I don't have connections, because nobody wants to give me the time of day. Not even to spend an hour to come see my show! And what can I do about that? Nothing. I can't force people to support me.

I just wish I knew WHY. That's what I can't wrap my head around. What is it about me?

I want to write plays so bad. I want to see them performed.

I need to get out this mood.

mac concert

the world well lost

Sometimes, all it takes is a story.

I read The World Well Lost, and was impressed by it's subtle beauty and language. It had an effect on me that makes me want to write again. I wrote for a solid month (July) when I did a writing challenge. Sure, I wrote about 55,000 words...But most of them weren't right. I'm editing that story right now, sort of. Late for the Sky is so hard to write because I don't want to admit they're based on truth.

And I'm writing and journaling and whatever all my ideas. Everything that pops into my head is finding a home written down, whenever I can.

I just need to try again. I need to remember how it used to be.

Creativity is something that comes and goes. And it's been a year and a half since I've really had it within my grasp. I have a feeling something is going to change.
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Sometimes, it almost hits me.

A feeling. a certain kind of feeling. I can only compare it to when I was younger, and my best friend and I would climb to the highest part of a mountain near her home. We'd climb as high as we could and look out, toward the Bedford Basin. I could see a similiar, beautiful view from my bedroom...But outside...There was something powerful about watching the sun lower, and looking out at all those houses and lights and trees. And I remember thinking "Someday I will be great."

I don't feel great. I'm 23. I'm stuck, in a rut. Moving forwards, but so slowly I feel like I'm going backwards.
Everything seems just out of my reach because I made all the wrong choices in life. 

But this feeling...It lightens my heart and makes me feel excited. A picture, with certain lighting. A phrase. A scent. It brings me back to a time when I thought anything was possible. Before I knew of the limitations and the challenges. 

I need a change. I need something new, exciting. I need something to work towards and feel happy about. I need to find some new activities and I need to find a way to meet new people. It was easier, then. 
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 Today I cried for the first time i months.

I had a revelation of sorts. I realized that the people I wanted to be friends with never were my friends. I just tried so so so hard to be part of that inner circle. That group of theatre people. "actors." Children. Dreamers. I wanted to be like them. I wanted to do the things they did. Hell, I still wish I could.

But I missed out.

And here I am, stuck in limbo. Too old to have younger friends, too young to have adult friends. 

Where do I fit in?

I don't.

I work a 9-5 job, at a library. Constantly with books, constantly thinking and expanding my mind. Planning my novels and stories and poems. I then come home and hide with my two! kittens and a computer...Watching Glee and wishing it existed when I was in high school. Wishing I had that talent or that someone saw something special in me. But nobody ever really seems to. Everyone around me gets praise but I just disappear somewhere in the middle. 

Someday, somewhere, somehow...I hope I get my chance to shine. I hope that I can be happy and have beautiful, smart friends....But for now, I will listen to Fleetwood Mac and cry and plan my trip to Italy. 1 year.
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nothing else I can say

You Have a Serious Heart

You believe that love is not a mystery. Love is respect, nurturing, and affection. Love is not drama.

You love with your head before you love with your heart. It's not love if it doesn't make sense.

Your heart is not easily tricked or fooled. You only have feelings when it is the real thing.

Your love life is only a part of your whole life. Love has its place, but you don't obsess over it.


Writer's Block: Message in a bottle

What three items would you place in a time capsule to help future generations understand you?

1) A mp3 player full of Fleetwood Mac, Billy Joel, and Jackson Browne
2) A copy of my play Late for the Sky
3) The complete Gilmore Girls series

That says everything about my existence right there!